Valen somehow smiles amidst the tension at Kuori, "Telling the impending horde to shove it and go away. I like the attitude, just not the timing."

Instead of the explosion of rage Kuori's words might have provoked, there is only a long and deep silence. When Raidok eventually speaks, his voice remains monotone but there is a heaviness to it, a weariness. He addresses you directly, "you are thrice right and but once wrong, little Kuori." He pauses, burning green eyes fixed on you. "Right in that we are not whom we were. Right in that we are abominations. Right in that our souls are now likely tainted so deeply that only the burning depths awaits us," he intones, shoulders slumped. "But," he adds, posture visibly hardening, "you are wrong in that we have no business here. We have business with the Emperor, business with his court, business with his subjects and business with this city."

Turning to Dahme'dre he nods, acknowledging your words. "Your word is taken, your vow recorded," he says with ritualistic intonations. "You and yours may depart in peace, and the dead shall not trouble you within Thar while your bargain holds." He indicates behind him with the skeletal remains of a rotting arm and the ranks of dead part like a groaning, hideous sea, "go, and think no more of this city and its fate." 

Aio, from where you soar at rooftop height, you can spot a path westward toward the lights of the Wall's End tavern, beyond which the city's curtain wall looms as a greater darkness against the backdrop of the clouded night sky. 

(( Erdan, could you roll an arcana check as part of your next post and Dahme'dre, could you roll a history check. Otherwise, proceed as you would. ))

Aio dove down toward the group and called to them.

"Follow!" She said loudly as she neared the group. 

The Aarakocra took to the sky once more and flew in the direction of the Wall's End tavern to the West.

"Will you only target those who worship Thratos? For they believe that your condition is just and right. Leave the other citizens alone, or I shall put an end to you, even if I must tear everyone of you into a million pieces with only my bare hands." She lays down her sword within reach, picks up the oars again, but does not yet start rowing. 

Dahme'dre considers the past and its reflection in the future. (History: (3)24)

Erdan will sigh at the rejection. He wishes he were stronger, so he wouldn't have to bow to monsters like this. But he knows that this battle would be meaningless. They are at a severe disadvantage and would not be able to stop them.

His fathers words echo in his head. Do what good you can, but don't be a fool. You can't help the people if you are dead. He smiles sadly at the wisdom and hypocrisy in those words. 

He will genuinely smile at Kuori's words, and hope that they get through to it. But, he will quietly say "Let us go, we can't do anything more here." 

Erdan feels out with his innate arcane abilities. 16

Dahme'dre leans closer to Kuori, her eyes glow a fiery red. fear? fury? Her words are calm. "Lets not stay here. He shows himself as the head of a monster, when he is more like the hand. This monster has had its head cut from its shoulders already. If they swarm the city, no thought or passion will guide their strikes. Only hunger."

The hordes of dead stare at the party impassively, slack jaws and blank eyes gaping as the dialogue within the party plays out. Raidok makes no move to respond to Kuori's question, which in its own way is answer enough. 

Dahme'dre, something about the now discarded coin and Raidok's words nags at your memory. You mentally turn the two over and over in your mind, worrying at the problem from different angles. Finally, a half-remembered passage from a historical tome you perused in your roof floats up into your mind's eye. It spoke of Lashmael Ardama II, the only Maratorian Emperor ever to be violently deposed before infirmity. The details of the coup against him are a closely guarded secret, even hundreds of years since his fall but portraits of him survive and one of them was depicted in your history book. It occurs to you that, barring the scarred lines upon it, the face you briefly saw on the enchanted coin would have been a perfect match for that image. 

"Wait." Dahme'dre stays Kuori from the oars.

The glow in Dahme'dre's eyes fades to a more natural pale blue as she thinks over the events. There's something here she's missing she seeks Guidance, but the puzzle remains... Mysterious.

She calls out to Raidok, "The 'arcane locus' (focus?) your coin, it was of an ancient minting. It boar the visage of Lashmael Ardama II, failed emperor of the times before the broken lands. Why is that significant?"

"Death to tyrants, I suppose?" Valen muses, eager to continue rowing out of the forsaken city.

"I will not abandon this city forever, but it seems that for now we must leave." Kuori stands up and points an accusatory finger at Raidok. "May the eternal vengeance of Aesthara be visited upon you, should you do more harm than you must!" She then sits down and begins rowing away. "Where shall we go now?" A tear slides down her cheek, then drips onto her sword.

((Travelling abroad for a few days so post formatting may not be up to par. Sorry all!))

The powerful strokes of Kyoto's oars propel the boat forward through the watching ranks of the watching undead. There is no answer to Dahme'dres shouted question, but you believe you see the posture of the risen watch captain shift subtly at the mention of the Emperor's name, his eyes seeming to burn brighter for a heartbeat before the racing boat takes you beyond sight.

((50 Experience each friends, for surving that encounter. By my calculations that takes you all to level 2! Level your characters up at your earliest convenience.))

After six minutes of rowing through the night, following Aios lead, you begin to see the lights of a tall building up ahead. It is an oft-repaired, patched and jury-rigged structure, patches, additions and entire new wings constructed around it and upon it from all manner of salvaged materials. At its waterline, a crude jetty can be seen jutting out into the water, lit by twin flickering torches. 

As the boat meets the structure Dahme'dre steps out onto the dock. She looks down at the muck that has accumulated on her hem with a frown. She flicks her wrist toward her feet as though brushing away some light dust and her dress is suddenly cleaned, she is now accompanied by a pleasant aroma, like freshly brewed Tay Leaves, masking the still foul stink of the putrid lake around the party. (Prestidigitation)

(Finally it's not just Mage Hand and Thaumaturgy anymore.)

"Lets pay a visit inside shall we? We can send our message back to Valzu, and let him know the fate of his boats."

Dahme'dre considers again if sending her new friend alone to deliver a message is wise...

Quote from BDaddLy >>

As Dahme'dre boards the craft she looks over the odd pair on the dock. Halfling's are usually true to their word... but they also had an affinity for... cunning activities... She's wary of the prospect of sending Aio alone to collect any potential reward. (Insight: (3)17)

(Tay leaves: https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/d-d-beyond-general/play-by-post/12007-the-glory-of-the-coliseum-rp?comment=917)

Erdan will follow Dahme'dre. 

"Yes. I think we could all use a drink as well. After you, Broody." 

Erdan will keep an eye out as they go, they've been ambushed too many times in the last 24 hours. 

perception 21

(Tay leaves: https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/d-d-beyond-general/play-by-post/12007-the-glory-of-the-coliseum-rp?comment=917)

As your boat brushes against the dock, a figure in well mended leathers emerges to watch you dock, a rapier and dagger hanging loosely at her waist. Above, a pair of heavy crossbows held by calloused hands can be seen emerging from upper storey windows. They do not track the party precisely, but it's clear they could be brought to bear in a heartbeat.

The woman smiles tightly, "Welcome to the Walls End,  the last revel in a sinking world." 

"Thank you. It's nice to see a friendly face. It's been quite the journey getting here." Dahme'dre greets the woman warmly. Her eyes showing no fearful or anxious glow, only a soft blue.  "No time for revelry I'm afraid. The world is sinking. We're here to bail."

Dahme'dre extends a hand as she approaches.  "I'm Dahme'dre, these are my companions." She introduces the party and continues,  "We were sent here on our way to the gate by your friend Valzu. He would like a message from you now that we've arrived." After a brief pause she adds "Oh also, it appears a war with the undead is upon us..."

"Hello dear! Don't mind her, she's exaggerating. The war with the undead isn't upon us!" Erdan will laugh as he steps up beside Dahme'dre. "They are still gathering their forces. I would say, at best, it's forthcoming. But I digress. We've had a long day; which way to the revelry!"

Aio circled above the group, waiting to decide if it was safe to land or not. 

We need to leave this place. And warn everyone. What else can we do?

"The war is here already, and we are cowards who run away. We must not dither, lest our courage catches our tails."