While Doozey ponders whether he should go outside to confirm the last kill, Utar comes to Raist and helps the elf back up. The orc adds a little pep to his companion's step. Biscuit is also there giving the wizard some additional support. (Raist recovers 17 HP.)
It is then Doozey's turn to do some healing, this time on the move. (Biscuit recovers 7 HP; Doozey gains 5 temp HP.)
Utar turns on his magical radar once more but gets no immediate pings for Jeralla. The group continues to move up the slope and towards the external ledge beyond.
Already outside, Neya has left Ruse behind, somewhere between herself and the rest of CRAP. Neya has used her time wisely, already having climbed up the cliff wall to reach the forested top of the geographic area. Up there, she uses her own intuition to try to sense where magic might feel strongest around her. Once she thinks she has spotted it, she focus her sight in that direction. In the distance (several hundred feet away), a heavily armored knight strides atop an elegant ethereal horse. He also seems to be looking for something or someone.
(@Drache: Tactical Mind die not needed here as your original ability check was not a fail. The magical point you were able to intuitively focus on was the ethereal horse.)
As Biscuit eventually came to a stop to get his bearings and scan the surroundings, Doozey grunts in pain and held a hand over his chest where orcish blades nearly completely sundered his armor. "Easy boy, easy! Don't be forgetting ya got an injured passenger here." He grouses with a faint hint of mirth to his voice, before then taking a moment to treat his injuries. Though it would be a far cry from more potent miracles, the salves and water down potion of healing wouldn't at least eased the pain.
Just in time too, for with little in the way of warning except save some excited "Boofs!", Biscuit start bounding up the cliff side like a mountain lion or a goat, easily reaching the top with Doozey on board well ahead of the others. Whether by wariness or happenstance, the duo never get too close to Ruse on the way up to the top. But once there, Doozey hesitated for just a moment before dismounting from Biscuit, stride close to the edge, and then offer Ruse a hand up.
That is of course, unless Neya beat him to the punch or a very different idea in mind. "Any luck?" He called back over his shoulder as Biscuit paced nearby.
Sahnd Krulek is an experienced leader. He has learned how to keep his emotional reactions and physical giveaways in check. You have no hope, at this moment, of reading any of his thoughts on his face.
Slowly but surely, all of CRAP and the Gray Patriots' leadership meet up top. Doozey and Biscuit (and Neya) were, perhaps, the only ones who didn't follow the "slowly" portion of that reunion, which afforded the halfling an extra moment to focus on his healing. (Doozey recovers 14 HP.)
"No," Sahnd Krulek replies. "And I fear we won't have any luck. Not today, at least." He looks over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes. "Once the fight broke out, we saw Jeralla vanishing from sight before reappearing just a few feet away. Then, you saw her teleport away from the thick of battle. Between teleportation and invisibility, I am thinking our chances of pinpointing her exact location right at this moment are narrow. Who knows how long she can keep that going..."
As if punctuating Krulek's conclusion, Utar mentally notes that his person-finding spell has yet to ping his target's location.
"But, alas..." Krulek continues. "As far as I can tell, we did quite a bit trimming to her crew." Ruse interrupts at this point, confirming: "We killed them all, and the orcs."Krulek nods. "Right, so we either will never see Jeralla again, or it will take her quite some time to collect enough followers again to move into our turf once more." He looks down from his ethereal horse, seemingly staring at the ground. "Come, Ruse. It is time for us to gather our own crew and depart." He extends a hand to the large woman and pulls her up onto the same mount. They begin to turn around so they can dash back down the cliff via the winding path on the west point and, presumably, reunite with their crew. "Our alliance failed at its primary goal, but it proved fruitful nonetheless. Let us now walk our separate ways."
Knowing he hasn't much left in the tank for further conflict, Utar sighs as he raises the issue of the Patriot's blockage of Phlan again.
"What happens next though? Presumably the poor of Phlan continue to be squeezed. Those least able to defend themselves continue the bear the brunt of this, while those able to weather the storm continue to do so and who knows how long for. Maybe a change of tactics is due?"
"If I recall correctly. The conflict between the two factions that exacerbated the issue. One of them is effectively neutralized. Still, cold comfort for the people."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Doozey can only but look away nodding at Krulek's reply having expected no different, yet hoped for otherwise all the same. But following Krulek's assessment, Doozey's head remained bowed as a nugget of guilt nod at his conscious. If he had but called out sooner, or perhaps better yet, abandon the fight to search for himself, maybe then things could've been different? Yet, upon looking towards the rest of CRAP a newfound since of shame left him bowing his head and clenching his jaw.
"Our alliance failed at its primary goal, but it proved fruitful nonetheless. Let us now walk our separate ways."
At those words both Doozey and Biscuit share a look, then sigh as well before the former turned to meet Krulek's eyes. "They have the right of it. Once word gets out -- and it will get out, even without us saying anything -- that Jerella and her gang is out of the picture, even if temporarily so, it's just gonna embolden them nobles to start hiring bounty hunters to come after ya. All of'em hoping whatever happened involved your crew and left the patriots crippled enough for hunters to finish the job. And while yer probably still confident of being able to handle it, a war of attrition ain't one yer winning. Not with how you've been going at it."Doozey holds up his hands in surrender. "Just genuinely give it some thought later, if not now, is all I'm saying."He sighs again. "Either way, a deal was a deal. We still need to stick around to see what we can find to help us track down Jerella later... if'n ya don't mind? Other than that though, we part ways, yeah?" Doozey said while looking to the party. However, Biscuit stayed on alert watching for any signs of a weapon being drawn by Krulek.
(OOC: Put a persuasion check in spoiler for if further influencing Krulek is possible. Mostly in the direction of at least considering other options, if not to convince him not to raise too much a stink on us lingering in the area for final business. Otherwise, feel free to ignore it.)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
DM's Screen:
20 (13)
For a moment, all that can be heard are collective sighs and Raist's wheezing.
Utar breaks up the silence, unconvinced by Krulek's conclusion to the story. Before the man can answer, Neya steals the explanation from his lips, so he simply nods along for an extra moment. He then finally responds while looking at Utar but pointing at Neya: "Your friend has the right of it. The Iron Route is simply too small for two commanding groups of salvagers,"he says, knowing that CRAP will disagree with the label he has given his own group at this moment. "The Gray Patriots have been claiming a portion of Phlan nobility's cornucopia for quite some time now. They have so much that we can get ours and the city still strides just fine. The moment the squeeze on the Iron Route gets too tight, the noble houses clutch their pearls and let the masses starve instead of sharing from their horn-of-plenty. Greed is the villain here, and mine is but a speckle compared to that of the nobles."
Doozey is next to speak up. Krulek seems mostly unmoved. "Your concern for my group's wellness continues to amuse me. You saw for yourselves how well the Gray Patriots can defend its interests. Ruse alone can make minced meat of any group of cocky run-of-the-mill mercenaries. And a war of attrition is what guerrilla tactics are made for, Mr. Mastiff Rider. We'll be fine; we'll claim ours from the teat of the nobleman and they will feel the pain, but not one so great that they need to squeeze the populace of Phlan. You ensured that by scaring Jeralla away, at least for now. So, pat yourselves on the back and go back to town to claim your reward. Heck, ask for double the payment since you banished a cruel and dangerous warband too." He pauses as if indicating that he is done, but then adds one concessions: "You are welcome to rummage around Jeralla's abandoned camp before you go, by my camp is out of question."
The corner of Doozey's eyes began twitching over some of Krulek's rebuttal. But before long, the halfling had to let it all go in a defeated sigh. "Fair enough, Mr. Krulek. A shame we couldn't dissuade you and yours away from the course, but such is the way of things I s'pose, fer now. So, we won't keep you and yours any longer... least that sniper of yers playing overwatch start suspect'n we won't be parting so peacefully as hoped." He said, his voice calm and confident, and words chosen carefully to act as a subtle warning to the rest of CRAP against kindling hostility on false pretenses. As Doozey very much doubted the archer he'd spotted standing alongside Krulek earlier had suddenly scampered off or was relegated to play messenger while Krulek went to retrieve Ruse.
"But, if'n yer ever change yer mind 'bout anything we've suggested, maybe reach out to us? Can't promise to be in a position to help later, but if someone's gotta claim a bounty on you after ya fake yer death, might as well be us."He snorts and shakes his head. Biscuit "Boofs" in agreement and happily started wagging his tail. He too paused as if that was the end of his spiel. Yet before completely turning away to address the party, a thought occurs to him. "Actually Krulek, just... one last thing. Did any of the shipments you robbed involve strange or suspicious cargo? Like an excessive amount of, uhh, dragon related paraphernalia by any chance?"
Krulek smirks at Doozey's remark about his covert archer. His eyes dart to a bush far behind CRAP. Anyone with a passive perception score higher than a 13 sees the Covert Archer trying to hide behind a bush during these last bits of the conversation. He is not doing a particularly good job this time around.
After Doozey changes his message to that of perhaps assisting a fake-death in the future, Krulek replies with the same smirk that never left his face since the earlier remark: "And how would I contact you? You have still not identified yourselves either by personal names or whatever your group might call itself." He points to Utar: "That one is a Tormite, that is plain to see." Then, he points to Raist: "Part of the elf's livery indicates an allegiance to Mantor's Library." Back to Doozey: "I am willing to wager that you are the only mastiff rider in Phlan." He then frowns as he looks at Neya: "But this one... I have no idea how to place her." Referencing the party as a whole: "It would be much easier if you introduced yourselves."
Whether the group does or not, Krulek is about ready to return to his camp after giving CRAP a minute to reply. He has already moved away some when Doozey asks his parting question, eliciting some recognition in the former Black Fist knight's face: "Nothing too strange, no, but since you mentioned dragons... well... we did notice some of the coins had been minted with a dragon's profile in the heads side instead of the Lord Regent's face. I hear coins in Waterdeep are called dragons, so I simply guessed they was minted there and found their way to Phlan's noble houses."
After that, Krulek and Ruse leave, heading back to camp via the winding path on the cliff's western side. The covert archer scampers down the cliff again, moving deftly down to the King's crown and then farther down.
If noone is particular quick to finally make proper introduction, then Doozey's own response is a smirk. "Well, with but one exception, sounds to me like you have plenty enough to go on in figuring out that particular answer. So, why spoil yer fun? ... Besides, I'm sure whatever spy or gate guard ya got in yer pocket back in Phlan can fill ya in later. And if not, well... Nothing a Sending -- a literal divine magic from the Tormite couldn't fix later, if'n you'd be amicable to it." Doozey assured the man despite knowing it would be cold comfort. But at least it would further signal that party could be trusted to be at least somewhat discrete if ever any future dealings came about...
Regardless, upon receiving an answer to his query, Doozey's brow furrowed as he rubbed his chin. "That's... Something to look into... many thanks, Mr. Krulek." He said even if by that point the man and Ruse were well on their way. Either way, Doozey watched them go, and once it appeared the group were out of immediate danger, he let out a sigh of relief. "I wanna agree, and we certainly aughta. But, I'd been genuine about searching the dragon cult side of the area. Both for any belonging of Jerella we might be able to use as some kind of focus for divination, and just snatching up some of the spoils while we can 'fore the Greys get any ideas of doing the same. Like that dragon helmet, fer instance."Said Doozey. And if none weren't in disagreement, both he and Biscuit would be the first to scarper back down the cliffside like mountain goats, trusting the party to catch up safely in due time.
Krulek only smirks at Doozey's response, already half-turning to move away.
Raist then confers with the rest of the group on next steps. Neya has a plan in mind but Doozey reminds them that there might still be strategic boons or battle spoils to be collected down the cliff. The halfling and his mastiff give the group some time to agree but soon begin to descend the cliffside just as easily as they climbed it up moments ago.
Doozey and Biscuit (and anyone following) have already been to Jeralla's camp, but the heat of the battle made it difficult to pay close attention to its layout and details. A circle of tents is pitched around a blazing cook fire. The bodies of reptilian humanoids and orcs lay about the camp; their sharpened weapons, blood, and the hot ash by the fire, adding up to a grisly scene. There is an abandoned cooking pot as well. On the north end of the camp, a large covered wagon is parked next to a pair of oxen. The creatures are the only ones left alive in the camp. They have calmed down relative to their demeanor during the fight, but the smell of blood in the air still makes them a bit anxious. On the south end of the camp, there is an opened wooden cage near the cliff’s edge. This is where Jeralla kept her now deceased owlbear.
(OOC: How would the party like to go about investigating the camp?)
Utar watches the Grey Patriots depart, standing stoically, almost as though he where hewn from the same rock as the large statue which dominates this part of the coast. Once they are out of sight, the Orc lets out a long sigh, buckling at the waist before taking several very long, deep breaths.
"Don't know about the rest of you, but ah, I had nothing in the tank if that interaction went sideways."
His breathing under control, Utar rights himself and points towards the oxen and the cart. "We should look over the spoils while we have the chance, we could even look to use the cult's own transport against them. A camp this size must have had plenty of supplies, we could even take some back to Phlan."
"That [wheeze] sounds [wheeze] agreeable [wheeze] and depending on [wheeze] amount we may need [wheeze] the cart." He chuckles and looks for an easier way down
Now that things had calm down, and Doozey and Biscuit could stop and truly survey the scene, the terrible sights before them was one even the stalwart halfling had to take a moment to close his eyes and recenter himself least he start to fill overwhelmed by it all. But there was no escaping the smell of it, which was at once disheartening and disgusting, but also strangely tantalizing in a way...
Doozey eyes snapped open at a sudden "Boof" from Biscuit, and after frantic search for danger, his eyes eventually fell on the worried expression of the Mastiff. "... I'll be alright, Brother. Honest. Why don't you, uhh, try to find that helmet that one Orc. The dragony looking one and meet me by the Oxen after. Okay."Biscuit immediately "Boofs!" in excitement a few times before tearing off to start hi search near the cave entrance.
Meanwhile, Doozey cautiously approaches the Oxen if his charm yet held together; but if not, then begrudgingly he wove another preemptively before calling out to the pair, asking but this all the same: "You two alright over there. None of the scalies or the tusked ones harmed you, did they?"
-Persuasion: 21. (if needed. And if animal handling is +4 instead. But the goal is to show care and further calm them down to the point that he could give them a few comforting pats before moving on to look into the wagon)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
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Neya keeps up her pursuit of Jeralla. She tries to sense a trace of her magic to get a sense of where she went once she get to the top of the cliff.
Arcana: 29 (Tactical Mind: 5
Extended Signature
While Doozey ponders whether he should go outside to confirm the last kill, Utar comes to Raist and helps the elf back up. The orc adds a little pep to his companion's step. Biscuit is also there giving the wizard some additional support. (Raist recovers 17 HP.)
It is then Doozey's turn to do some healing, this time on the move. (Biscuit recovers 7 HP; Doozey gains 5 temp HP.)
Utar turns on his magical radar once more but gets no immediate pings for Jeralla. The group continues to move up the slope and towards the external ledge beyond.
Already outside, Neya has left Ruse behind, somewhere between herself and the rest of CRAP. Neya has used her time wisely, already having climbed up the cliff wall to reach the forested top of the geographic area. Up there, she uses her own intuition to try to sense where magic might feel strongest around her. Once she thinks she has spotted it, she focus her sight in that direction. In the distance (several hundred feet away), a heavily armored knight strides atop an elegant ethereal horse. He also seems to be looking for something or someone.
(@Drache: Tactical Mind die not needed here as your original ability check was not a fail. The magical point you were able to intuitively focus on was the ethereal horse.)
Krulek begins to bring his ethereal mount around, rushing toward Neya.
Raist, Biscuit, Utar, and Doozey are now on the ledge, some 20ft below the top level where Neya is.
Ruse is scaling the wall, just 5ft below the top.
As Biscuit eventually came to a stop to get his bearings and scan the surroundings, Doozey grunts in pain and held a hand over his chest where orcish blades nearly completely sundered his armor. "Easy boy, easy! Don't be forgetting ya got an injured passenger here." He grouses with a faint hint of mirth to his voice, before then taking a moment to treat his injuries. Though it would be a far cry from more potent miracles, the salves and water down potion of healing wouldn't at least eased the pain.
Just in time too, for with little in the way of warning except save some excited "Boofs!", Biscuit start bounding up the cliff side like a mountain lion or a goat, easily reaching the top with Doozey on board well ahead of the others. Whether by wariness or happenstance, the duo never get too close to Ruse on the way up to the top. But once there, Doozey hesitated for just a moment before dismounting from Biscuit, stride close to the edge, and then offer Ruse a hand up.
That is of course, unless Neya beat him to the punch or a very different idea in mind. "Any luck?" He called back over his shoulder as Biscuit paced nearby.
-Doozey Battle Medic on self, restoring 14 HP.
-Biscuit will Double time it up the cliff.
.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Neya analyzes Krulek's demeanor as he approaches on his steed.
Insight: 9
Extended Signature
@Neya (insight):
Sahnd Krulek is an experienced leader. He has learned how to keep his emotional reactions and physical giveaways in check. You have no hope, at this moment, of reading any of his thoughts on his face.
Slowly but surely, all of CRAP and the Gray Patriots' leadership meet up top. Doozey and Biscuit (and Neya) were, perhaps, the only ones who didn't follow the "slowly" portion of that reunion, which afforded the halfling an extra moment to focus on his healing. (Doozey recovers 14 HP.)
"No," Sahnd Krulek replies. "And I fear we won't have any luck. Not today, at least." He looks over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes. "Once the fight broke out, we saw Jeralla vanishing from sight before reappearing just a few feet away. Then, you saw her teleport away from the thick of battle. Between teleportation and invisibility, I am thinking our chances of pinpointing her exact location right at this moment are narrow. Who knows how long she can keep that going..."
As if punctuating Krulek's conclusion, Utar mentally notes that his person-finding spell has yet to ping his target's location.
"But, alas..." Krulek continues. "As far as I can tell, we did quite a bit trimming to her crew." Ruse interrupts at this point, confirming: "We killed them all, and the orcs." Krulek nods. "Right, so we either will never see Jeralla again, or it will take her quite some time to collect enough followers again to move into our turf once more." He looks down from his ethereal horse, seemingly staring at the ground. "Come, Ruse. It is time for us to gather our own crew and depart." He extends a hand to the large woman and pulls her up onto the same mount. They begin to turn around so they can dash back down the cliff via the winding path on the west point and, presumably, reunite with their crew. "Our alliance failed at its primary goal, but it proved fruitful nonetheless. Let us now walk our separate ways."
Raist stands silently (well wheezing) watching the rider and his companions
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Knowing he hasn't much left in the tank for further conflict, Utar sighs as he raises the issue of the Patriot's blockage of Phlan again.
"What happens next though? Presumably the poor of Phlan continue to be squeezed. Those least able to defend themselves continue the bear the brunt of this, while those able to weather the storm continue to do so and who knows how long for. Maybe a change of tactics is due?"
"If I recall correctly. The conflict between the two factions that exacerbated the issue. One of them is effectively neutralized. Still, cold comfort for the people."
Extended Signature
Doozey can only but look away nodding at Krulek's reply having expected no different, yet hoped for otherwise all the same. But following Krulek's assessment, Doozey's head remained bowed as a nugget of guilt nod at his conscious. If he had but called out sooner, or perhaps better yet, abandon the fight to search for himself, maybe then things could've been different? Yet, upon looking towards the rest of CRAP a newfound since of shame left him bowing his head and clenching his jaw.
"Our alliance failed at its primary goal, but it proved fruitful nonetheless. Let us now walk our separate ways."
At those words both Doozey and Biscuit share a look, then sigh as well before the former turned to meet Krulek's eyes. "They have the right of it. Once word gets out -- and it will get out, even without us saying anything -- that Jerella and her gang is out of the picture, even if temporarily so, it's just gonna embolden them nobles to start hiring bounty hunters to come after ya. All of'em hoping whatever happened involved your crew and left the patriots crippled enough for hunters to finish the job. And while yer probably still confident of being able to handle it, a war of attrition ain't one yer winning. Not with how you've been going at it." Doozey holds up his hands in surrender. "Just genuinely give it some thought later, if not now, is all I'm saying." He sighs again. "Either way, a deal was a deal. We still need to stick around to see what we can find to help us track down Jerella later... if'n ya don't mind? Other than that though, we part ways, yeah?" Doozey said while looking to the party. However, Biscuit stayed on alert watching for any signs of a weapon being drawn by Krulek.
(OOC: Put a persuasion check in spoiler for if further influencing Krulek is possible. Mostly in the direction of at least considering other options, if not to convince him not to raise too much a stink on us lingering in the area for final business. Otherwise, feel free to ignore it.)
Persuasion: 16.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
DM's Screen:
20 (13)
For a moment, all that can be heard are collective sighs and Raist's wheezing.
Utar breaks up the silence, unconvinced by Krulek's conclusion to the story. Before the man can answer, Neya steals the explanation from his lips, so he simply nods along for an extra moment. He then finally responds while looking at Utar but pointing at Neya: "Your friend has the right of it. The Iron Route is simply too small for two commanding groups of salvagers," he says, knowing that CRAP will disagree with the label he has given his own group at this moment. "The Gray Patriots have been claiming a portion of Phlan nobility's cornucopia for quite some time now. They have so much that we can get ours and the city still strides just fine. The moment the squeeze on the Iron Route gets too tight, the noble houses clutch their pearls and let the masses starve instead of sharing from their horn-of-plenty. Greed is the villain here, and mine is but a speckle compared to that of the nobles."
Doozey is next to speak up. Krulek seems mostly unmoved. "Your concern for my group's wellness continues to amuse me. You saw for yourselves how well the Gray Patriots can defend its interests. Ruse alone can make minced meat of any group of cocky run-of-the-mill mercenaries. And a war of attrition is what guerrilla tactics are made for, Mr. Mastiff Rider. We'll be fine; we'll claim ours from the teat of the nobleman and they will feel the pain, but not one so great that they need to squeeze the populace of Phlan. You ensured that by scaring Jeralla away, at least for now. So, pat yourselves on the back and go back to town to claim your reward. Heck, ask for double the payment since you banished a cruel and dangerous warband too." He pauses as if indicating that he is done, but then adds one concessions: "You are welcome to rummage around Jeralla's abandoned camp before you go, by my camp is out of question."
The corner of Doozey's eyes began twitching over some of Krulek's rebuttal. But before long, the halfling had to let it all go in a defeated sigh. "Fair enough, Mr. Krulek. A shame we couldn't dissuade you and yours away from the course, but such is the way of things I s'pose, fer now. So, we won't keep you and yours any longer... least that sniper of yers playing overwatch start suspect'n we won't be parting so peacefully as hoped." He said, his voice calm and confident, and words chosen carefully to act as a subtle warning to the rest of CRAP against kindling hostility on false pretenses. As Doozey very much doubted the archer he'd spotted standing alongside Krulek earlier had suddenly scampered off or was relegated to play messenger while Krulek went to retrieve Ruse.
"But, if'n yer ever change yer mind 'bout anything we've suggested, maybe reach out to us? Can't promise to be in a position to help later, but if someone's gotta claim a bounty on you after ya fake yer death, might as well be us." He snorts and shakes his head. Biscuit "Boofs" in agreement and happily started wagging his tail. He too paused as if that was the end of his spiel. Yet before completely turning away to address the party, a thought occurs to him. "Actually Krulek, just... one last thing. Did any of the shipments you robbed involve strange or suspicious cargo? Like an excessive amount of, uhh, dragon related paraphernalia by any chance?"
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Krulek smirks at Doozey's remark about his covert archer. His eyes dart to a bush far behind CRAP. Anyone with a passive perception score higher than a 13 sees the Covert Archer trying to hide behind a bush during these last bits of the conversation. He is not doing a particularly good job this time around.
After Doozey changes his message to that of perhaps assisting a fake-death in the future, Krulek replies with the same smirk that never left his face since the earlier remark: "And how would I contact you? You have still not identified yourselves either by personal names or whatever your group might call itself." He points to Utar: "That one is a Tormite, that is plain to see." Then, he points to Raist: "Part of the elf's livery indicates an allegiance to Mantor's Library." Back to Doozey: "I am willing to wager that you are the only mastiff rider in Phlan." He then frowns as he looks at Neya: "But this one... I have no idea how to place her." Referencing the party as a whole: "It would be much easier if you introduced yourselves."
Whether the group does or not, Krulek is about ready to return to his camp after giving CRAP a minute to reply. He has already moved away some when Doozey asks his parting question, eliciting some recognition in the former Black Fist knight's face: "Nothing too strange, no, but since you mentioned dragons... well... we did notice some of the coins had been minted with a dragon's profile in the heads side instead of the Lord Regent's face. I hear coins in Waterdeep are called dragons, so I simply guessed they was minted there and found their way to Phlan's noble houses."
After that, Krulek and Ruse leave, heading back to camp via the winding path on the cliff's western side. The covert archer scampers down the cliff again, moving deftly down to the King's crown and then farther down.
[Wheeze] so now [wheeze] what? Raist moves to the cliffside and overlooks the camps. Despite the wheezing he still moves gracefully
Laissez les bons temps rouler
"Return, report, and evaluate. At least that's my vote."
Extended Signature
If noone is particular quick to finally make proper introduction, then Doozey's own response is a smirk. "Well, with but one exception, sounds to me like you have plenty enough to go on in figuring out that particular answer. So, why spoil yer fun? ... Besides, I'm sure whatever spy or gate guard ya got in yer pocket back in Phlan can fill ya in later. And if not, well... Nothing a Sending -- a literal divine magic from the Tormite couldn't fix later, if'n you'd be amicable to it." Doozey assured the man despite knowing it would be cold comfort. But at least it would further signal that party could be trusted to be at least somewhat discrete if ever any future dealings came about...
Regardless, upon receiving an answer to his query, Doozey's brow furrowed as he rubbed his chin. "That's... Something to look into... many thanks, Mr. Krulek." He said even if by that point the man and Ruse were well on their way. Either way, Doozey watched them go, and once it appeared the group were out of immediate danger, he let out a sigh of relief. "I wanna agree, and we certainly aughta. But, I'd been genuine about searching the dragon cult side of the area. Both for any belonging of Jerella we might be able to use as some kind of focus for divination, and just snatching up some of the spoils while we can 'fore the Greys get any ideas of doing the same. Like that dragon helmet, fer instance." Said Doozey. And if none weren't in disagreement, both he and Biscuit would be the first to scarper back down the cliffside like mountain goats, trusting the party to catch up safely in due time.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Krulek only smirks at Doozey's response, already half-turning to move away.
Raist then confers with the rest of the group on next steps. Neya has a plan in mind but Doozey reminds them that there might still be strategic boons or battle spoils to be collected down the cliff. The halfling and his mastiff give the group some time to agree but soon begin to descend the cliffside just as easily as they climbed it up moments ago.
Doozey and Biscuit (and anyone following) have already been to Jeralla's camp, but the heat of the battle made it difficult to pay close attention to its layout and details. A circle of tents is pitched around a blazing cook fire. The bodies of reptilian humanoids and orcs lay about the camp; their sharpened weapons, blood, and the hot ash by the fire, adding up to a grisly scene. There is an abandoned cooking pot as well. On the north end of the camp, a large covered wagon is parked next to a pair of oxen. The creatures are the only ones left alive in the camp. They have calmed down relative to their demeanor during the fight, but the smell of blood in the air still makes them a bit anxious. On the south end of the camp, there is an opened wooden cage near the cliff’s edge. This is where Jeralla kept her now deceased owlbear.
(OOC: How would the party like to go about investigating the camp?)
Utar watches the Grey Patriots depart, standing stoically, almost as though he where hewn from the same rock as the large statue which dominates this part of the coast. Once they are out of sight, the Orc lets out a long sigh, buckling at the waist before taking several very long, deep breaths.
"Don't know about the rest of you, but ah, I had nothing in the tank if that interaction went sideways."
His breathing under control, Utar rights himself and points towards the oxen and the cart. "We should look over the spoils while we have the chance, we could even look to use the cult's own transport against them. A camp this size must have had plenty of supplies, we could even take some back to Phlan."
"That [wheeze] sounds [wheeze] agreeable [wheeze] and depending on [wheeze] amount we may need [wheeze] the cart." He chuckles and looks for an easier way down
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Now that things had calm down, and Doozey and Biscuit could stop and truly survey the scene, the terrible sights before them was one even the stalwart halfling had to take a moment to close his eyes and recenter himself least he start to fill overwhelmed by it all. But there was no escaping the smell of it, which was at once disheartening and disgusting, but also strangely tantalizing in a way...
Doozey eyes snapped open at a sudden "Boof" from Biscuit, and after frantic search for danger, his eyes eventually fell on the worried expression of the Mastiff. "... I'll be alright, Brother. Honest. Why don't you, uhh, try to find that helmet that one Orc. The dragony looking one and meet me by the Oxen after. Okay." Biscuit immediately "Boofs!" in excitement a few times before tearing off to start hi search near the cave entrance.
Meanwhile, Doozey cautiously approaches the Oxen if his charm yet held together; but if not, then begrudgingly he wove another preemptively before calling out to the pair, asking but this all the same: "You two alright over there. None of the scalies or the tusked ones harmed you, did they?"
-Persuasion: 21. (if needed. And if animal handling is +4 instead. But the goal is to show care and further calm them down to the point that he could give them a few comforting pats before moving on to look into the wagon)
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.