Burr stepped forward leaning on the Bloodspear and nodded to Tobias and the others, "  You've men captured......if its proof you need of our....my......good will, let me.....us....deliver them back to you."

Giles pulls up his hand to his mouth, blowing out two whistle blows, then he sees Zefla suddenly appear from the shadows.  Giles gives a broad smile to Tobias, but it is clear that the whistles were partly directed toward the woman who is wobbling down the street in sorrow.  He hopes to stop her, so that she can hear his words as well.  "Emil, you say your son is Emil ma'am?  What is your name, by chance?  What if we .... what if we tried to rescue your son?"  He stops for a second and turns as the shadows grow closer and he hears the dimmed sound of movement, saying to the magical area of darkness produced by his spell, "Please, hold up your shadows my lads, we may have some use of the spell before it fails.  Zefla, you are sneaky enough without the help of my spell.  We may have a rescue mission to complete..."

He stops and turns briefly toward the woman, to see if she stopped walking away and listened to what he had to say, but then fully turns back to Tobias.  "You are right in your assessment.  Urwin does have his confidence in us.  And the inn is behind us.  We are looking for a partner to join forces with."  He looks to the other guards, the other supporters of Tobias and he snaps his fingers, holding them over his head.  "Look to me.  You are supporting a good man.  These are crazy times.  We need to lend him our support, eh?  This is war, my fellows!  In war, there are casualties!  We can't design a perfect mission without risk, when we say yes, we acknowledge that risk for the greater good.  This young man, Emil, he knew that risk, and he paid the price.  Well, my hope is that he is still alive.  That we can retrieve him.  But to do so, we need to know that we have an ally in you.  That you are together with us.  If we hold out our hand to stop the enemy, we need to know that you will crash your fist into them, that together we can crush this evil, lawless rebellion bringing the pincer in from the east and the west, what say you!  Are you with us?  Please, for all that is still right, still holy, still good, please tell me that you are with us!"  Giles has started to pace, smashing his hand into his fist at opportune times, making pincer motions, trying to whip the guards up into a state that will fight, that will join their cause...

Soren steps forward slowly, the owl perched upon his shoulder.  "Aye, Tobias Grunfeld, our pack mate speaks true.  It is not wolves or other beasts of the forest you should guard against, unless perhaps they are werewolves, but instead against Vampire Spawn and infernal cultists and mist-worshippers.  And renegade guards who looted the Baron's own manor before it burned, and the town ever since, even just now, having made the Cathedral their den."

He pauses.  "I am Soren Thornpaw and this is Nettle, my owl.  As Zefla tells you, we can fight.  Have fought, more than even my priestly friend has recounted.  The woman... she mourned her cub, Emil?  Yet she spoke of Emil being taken but not yet slain.  To be killed at dusk.  Taken by who, Tobias?  Who did you send him out into town to scout?  We are to report back to the Blue Water Inn before dark, but perhaps we can mount a rescue."

As the woman storms off down the street, weeping and cursing Tobias, Giles’ whistle and words fall upon deaf ears.  She does not turn back.  Her grief and rage are too fresh.  Her dirty cloak flares as she disappears around the corner, still muttering her son's name between sobs.

But while she cannot be reached, others can.  Zefla steps forward from the shadows, her size belied by the fire in her eyes.  Tobias and his nearby guards—rough men and women with haunted expressions—look at her, then Burr, then Soren.  The owl on Soren’s shoulder flutters its wings slightly, and one of the guards mutters, “A... sane druid?” under his breath, half in awe.

The guards shift, uncertain.  But when Giles raises his voice, some straighten.  His words strike chords.  One of the younger guards, barely more than a boy himself, clenches a fist.  Another, an older woman with a crossbow strapped to her back, nods faintly, and claps a supportive hand on Tobias' back.  The guards do not roar or cheer, but there is a tightening to their posture.  

Tobias listens, arms crossed, his face hard but thoughtful.  At length, he nods once.  “Inside,” he says, voice low.  “We should talk.”

He leads them into the nearby barracks—a modest stone building with thick shutters and iron-banded doors.  Inside, the air is close and smells of sweat, old bread, and oil.  A common room has been cleared and repurposed as a crude command post.  Bedrolls and cots are shoved to the sides, replaced with crates of spears, swords, and bandages.  On a central table rest maps—some official, others quickly scrawled and pinned over with markings.  Colored chalk circles mark areas of importance.  Near the far wall, two men in patched leather armor look up as the party enters.  One is broad-shouldered with a wrapped hand; the other carries the map-marker's chalk-stained fingertips and squints as if sleep-deprived.  Officers, or confidants of Tobias.

He shuts the door firmly behind them and waves the group closer, voice low.

“I thank you for what you said out there,” Tobias begins, nodding toward Giles in particular.  “You didn’t have to do that.  And it helped more than you know.”

Then he looks to Soren and answers his question plainly.  “We aren't the only ones marshalling forces in Vallaki.  There is a sizeable group, under the command of Gregor Draznin.  He used to command the late Baron's jails, reporting to Izek.  Now, he's gathered a small army of former guards, criminals and thugs.  They've been looting the western half of the city since the Baron fell and building up a war chest for themselves."

"Emil and the others were heading toward the Candle Lane district.  That’s just this side of St. Andral’s, and I’d heard rumors that’s where the opposition was pushing next.  I needed eyes out there.  They weren’t trained soldiers, no. But they were willing, and brave.  Braver than I had a right to ask.”  His voice tightens at that.  “I had told them to just watch and come back.  Instead, they got caught, or maybe even initiated a fight.  I don't know.”

He nods to one of the maps.  “If they were taken prisoner, they were likely brought to St. Andral’s.  That place used to be holy ground.  Now, Gregor's turned it into a fort.  I’ve heard they’ve barricaded the front, posted snipers in the bell tower, and are using the crypts for their own storage and jail.  I won’t lie to you—walking in through the front would be bloody.”

He looks each of them in the eye now.  “But I’m not just trying to win a street brawl here.  I’m trying to build something better.  I’ve been gathering volunteers—not looters, not thugs.  Tradesmen, smiths, a few old soldiers, even a couple of seamstresses.  People who want peace.  A real peace.  A guard that protects, not extorts.”

He gestures toward the table, the men, the weapons.  “But they don’t believe in themselves yet.  They’re scared.  Outnumbered, three to one by the Gregor's guards and their new recruits.  The only thing keeping them standing is the idea that we’re different.  That we can win.  If I let strangers clean up our mess, if I let someone else rescue Emil, they’ll won't believe we could have done it.  Not really.”  He pauses.  “So.  If you plan to fight your way in, then I’m coming with you.  Me and some of mine.  I know the risks.  I know it could be a trap.  But if my boys see me walking back through that door with Emil and the others at my side—alive—then it changes everything.”

His expression softens a touch.

“But... If you have another way in—magic, stealth, trickery—I won’t stand in your way.  If you can get those lads out without drawing blood or setting fire to the whole street, I’ll be grateful.  Just… make sure we are part of the fight when it matters most.  Let my guards have their victory too.”  He pauses, and adds more quietly, “They deserve to feel like heroes.”

The room is still for a moment.  One of the officers in the corner, having listened to all this, clears his throat.  “We don’t have much time till dusk.”

Giles nods to Tobias and smiles, he picks up his dagger and puts it away as they walk in.  He stands and listens to him intently, then starts to look at the drawings and diagrams, assessing those in the room and the will of the surrounding supporters of Tobias.  Giles is no strategist, but he can read people, and he was pleased that he could help with fortifying the will of the supporters of Tobias, garner their support for him.  He looks up to Soren, Zefla and Burr, leaning in on their assessment of the strategy, but willing to think outside of the box for a solution for Emil.  

“My magic will help to keep us hidden if we move swiftly, the majority of us.”  Giles casually reaches out to Zefla, giving her the Blessing of the Trickster.  “So perhaps we can approach stealthily and then if we are discovered, you could be waiting near by, in a place of cover, and if we need you, we can call you in.  Or, when you see all hell break loose, come running in for support.  Do you have any ideas of how we should approach this?”  He looks to his companions for opinions and strategies.  

Soren glances out a window and shifts his stance, feeling claustrophobic and shut in within the stuffy barracks chamber.

"As your lieutenant points out, Tobias Grunfeld, only scant light remains to us.  We four, with others in our pack, have been in more than one bloody battle since the sun rose.  Let us do what needs to be done at the Cathedral.  Perhaps Zefla or Nettle can scout ahead.  We decide whether we take them on, eye to eye, or find a stealthier way in to free the prisoners.  Yet as you imply, we are one pack.  Both by necessity and choice.  We do this together."

Tobias nods along politely as Soren speaks of the pack, then casts a quick eye to Giles, Burr and Zefla to confirm they understand what the hell he is talking about.  

He grabs a paper sketch of the layout of St. Andral's, with barricades and watch towers marked on it.  "I had one of the locals mark from memory where he saw Gregor's fortifications.  He also told me that there were men with crossbows around the perimeter and up in the belltower."

Burr looked up at the remark about the light, " Perhaps at first light.....there will be dead at our doors this evening.  Tobias, are your peoples buildings secure enough?"

" If Soren believes there is time to scout on our way to the Inn then lets do so immediately and we'll see you on the morrow."

Soren lays a hand on his warrior friend's shoulder.

"I do not think we can wait, Burr.  We were told the rabid... ah, the renegade guards will slay this Emil and the other captives at dusk.  The sun is nearly set.  If Tobias Grunfeld is to unify his pack by returning the taken ones safely, we must not only scout, but also act.  All of us together.  Right now."

To the entire group, including Tobias, he asks:  "When we visited the Cathedral, prior to its desecration by Vampire Spawn, the mists crept along the graveyard, trying to encroach but seemingly held back, likely by the holy relic, the now stolen Bones of Saint Andral, which Father Lucien kept sanctified there.  I mislike the mists - they seem to me a thing of Strahd - yet if they still linger, might they provide cover for our approach."

Burr looked at Soren confused for a moment, " Dusk? But....bah, I am too tired to think."

" If Tobias' folk are delayed until after dark they will all die and the town is lost.", he whispered.

Louder, " Let me go to the gate. Keep their eyes on me while you and Tobias sneak in and rescue. I will challenge this Gregor one on one."

He turned and left, glancing at the sky again........if they couldn't get this sorted in under an hour everyone was going to die........

Without delaying for further chit-chat, Burr leaves and begins making his way toward St. Andral's.  The church is less than 10 minutes away... its spire is visible looming above the tiled rooftops.  The fog is indeed thick today... it could be useful for concealment.

[There is still ample time for Giles' spell as you have used about 30 minutes of the spell's 1 hour time.  And Giles' controls who is concealed or not concealed.  The area of effect is 30' radius, centered on Giles.  So anyone who wishes to receive the +10 stealth bonus must remain close to the cleric.]

Seeing Burr make off in haste, Tobias glances at the others and then begins grabbing supplies and making orders.  He brings four volunteer guards with him, leaving the map-making lieutenant in charge of the post until he returns.  Tobias and his four guards are armed with spears and light crossbows, and Tobias also has a longsword on his hip.  As they move out to follow Burr, Tobias looks to his four followers.  "Watch each other’s backs.  Don’t be reckless.  But don’t you hesitate, either.  We’re going to bring our brothers home—dead or alive—and remind this town that not all the steel has rusted.”

[What will be the approach?  It sounds like Burr is planning to walk up to the front door and holler for Gregor to come out and fight?  What are the others doing?   And what will you ask the guards to do?]

Giles looks up at Burr, used to his style by this point.  “Burr, that could go very poorly if they just decide to grab you en masse.  But it would definitely be a distraction..". He turns to Zefla.  "To me, the key is getting the lookouts that are perched up high.  If someone could sneak up that staircase to the west, to the top of that tower and take out their lookout, that would be huge.  I feel that we have the force from Tobias nearby, we sneak in while Burr is distracting them, made our way down to the crypts.  Where would that be, do the stairs from the tower go down as well?  Burr, you can call in Tobias if you need to, and we may call in your help once we have secured Emil.  If all remains quiet, we'll just bring him out along with the other prisoners and meet up with you.  If it all goes to hell, we'll fight our way out, likely exiting to the west."  

He pauses, looking at the map and then everyone else.  "Anyone else know how to get down to the crypts and the jail?  Any other thoughts on how to do this?  I don't have much magic left, we need to do this as quickly and cleanly as possible, in and out."  Giles looks around for any last minute suggestions, planning.

((Before they leave, Giles has given Zefla the Blessing of the Trickster.))

Soren's face grows long at Giles' mention of remaining magic powers.

"I have some of Silvanus' primal energy left to me, though whether I will recover it once used after tonight seems doubtful with Morgantha of the Windmill lying in wait for my dreams.  Nonetheless, Tobias, warn your men.  I know wolves have ever been the enemy of Vallaki, and that is fair enough.  You eat wolves and wolves eat you.  Nature is of Silvanus, red in tooth and claw.  Yet tonight, it may come to pass that wolves will fight by our side and against Gregor and his men.  Wolves, not werewolves.  They are my friends and our allies.  Be aware, and do not slay them yourselves."

"As for the best way to the crypts, or up to the bell tower..."  The druid closes his eyes, murmuring for Silvanus' Guidance.  He attempts to recall the layout from the night that he spent at the Cathedral previously to escape Morgantha's dream-depredation.  Father Lucien had shown him where the Bones of Saint Andral had been interred before their theft.  Was that where the crypts were?  Soren tries to remember, yet finds his thoughts muddied.

Soren's History plus Guidance:  5 + 3 = 8

(If he is able, once the group nears the Cathedral, Soren taps Burr on the shoulder, granting him Silvanus' Guidance for his apparent upcoming challenge hurled at the renegade guard Gregor, or for Initiative in any combat that may ensue.)

Also, once within a few hundred feet of the Cathedral, Nettle takes wing and circles the structure at a distance in the afternoon gloom, using her 60' flight speed and 120' darkvision to try for a scouting report of where the sentries and archers may be posted, and any other sights or activity.

Nettle's Perception with Keen Hearing and Sight:  17

Burr took Sorens blessing and moved around to the original entrance to the church before approaching it slowly with the Blood spear raised high above his head, he stood there staring at the doors for several minutes counting out the time his friends would need to get into position before slowly walking towards the doors. He bit down hard on his inner cheek letting blood flow into his mouth and down his cheek as the ancient war chieftains spirit rose within him.

" Gregor!!", he roared.

" Burr Fiendbreaker challenges you to single combat for the glory of leading these men! Will you face me, coward? Or hide in your stolen chapel like the weakling you are?"

Intimidation- 19+ 3 Guidance.

The thought of dusk weighs heavily on Zefla's mind.  Even if they were able to get back to the Inn after dusk with no fiend in sight - would they still not be let in?  Would they have to spend the night on their own?  Well, they could stay with Tobias and their men if need be.  It was something.

As a plan starts to form, she turns to Giles, "Between both of your magics, I should be a shadow amongst the foes.  I would be happy to head up to the Belltower and take out those adversaries as you and Soren and whomever go with you head towards the crypts.  The faster we do this the better.  I'll meet you at the base of the tower unless things go sideways."

Under pass without trace and advantage:
Stealth: 27 + 10 = 37

If Zefla can pause Burr from calling Gregor out, she'll suggest scouting out the place first, figure out where the boy and other prisoners are held, "Give me 15 minutes to check the area out so we can just grab them and run.  Burr... how do you want us to let you know we have succeeded and to leave the confrontation?"

( Burr will defer to Zeflas timing. Signal can be Nettle.)

If it comes to a signal, Soren agrees and is happy to have Nettle provide one.  Perhaps a certain pattern of hoots, delivered from cover or darkness once the owl's own scouting is done, so as not to endanger her by making her an obvious target for ranged attackers from the Cathedral.

Giles communicates his plans (see OOC) and makes himself ready for the stealth approach and the attack.  He cinches up his boots, hoping that he can stay quiet and this can be a quick, snatch and grab operation, more stealth and speed than swords and spilled blood…

Before transforming into a spider and crawling to a nook in the shoulder of Zefla's cloak, Soren affectionately butts foreheads with Nettle before sending the little owl off temporarily into a quiet little woodland plane of her own (pocket dimension).  He nods with grim determination to his halfling friend.

"I will not be able to see well while I am a spider, so let me know what you notice.  If you need me to help fight, whisper and I can change back to my half-elven form.  For now, my attacks and perception are hampered by the hags' curse, but I can summon wolves again, or my radiant moonbeam or a spiky growth at a choke point.  Or heal and protect you.  Do not hesitate to let me know, though I cannot reply or cast these spells while I am a spider."

Quietly to the group, he whispers, "I can bring Nettle back to signal the rest of you if we cannot return directly here.  Two hoots in quick succession with a long gap between signifies that we have dealt with the archers in the tower.  Three means we have Emil and the other captives.  Four means we need you to attack full out, and five means run away as if all the wolf packs of Neverwinter Wood were baying at your heels."

With that, if there is nothing else, Soren shimmers in green, dappled light and transforms into a tiny arachnid, crawling onto the outside of Zefla's cloak.