Barty's "Tyranny In Phlan" (DDEX1-10)

Carl waits to see what the Lord Regent suggests, looking to have a short rest whenever it is feasible.  He's glad to be away from Spernik's body.  He waits to hear how they could be of use, volunteering his help whenever he can be useful.  

"Shouldn't we bring these people," he adds, gesturing to those who were captive along with the Lord Regent, "to the Laughing Goblin so we can take them all out?"

"You are correct," The Lord Regent says. "Our priority right now should be getting as many civilians outside of Phlan as we can. There will be another day to take back what is ours. It will do us no good to take on a dragon with no plan."

He speaks with confidence, the steady voice of a man used to making decisions that affect tens of thousands. He looks over to the body of Aleyd, and adds, "And Aleyd is coming with us. Not only should her body be given to her family, Wylan Burral is a cleric of Tymora who lives in Mulmaster. If Phlan is ever to rid itself of the Maimed Virulence, it needs a symbol - and I have no intention of allowing death to give Aleyd leave from her duties. She is one of the most dedicated knights in my command. If you can aid our escape from the town, I will take Aleyd's body to Mulmaster and plead for her return from death."

Auriel reaches for his holy symbol. "I pray that Lady Luck will hear your plea, my Lord. I do not know which entity chose to grant such a blessing to one as unworthy as Spernik, but Aleyd would be far more deserving of it."

As he speaks, a faint glow of divine energy gathers briefly around his hand as he draws upon it to mend his own wounds.

Since the Lord Regent has already organized the group of captives, there is little left to arrange. Auriel looks around, searching for a way to build a makeshift bier to carry Aleyd's body. He would offer to help carry her, but feeling he would be better used protecting the captives in case they encounter danger on their way to the Laughing Goblin, he instead moves to the front of the group.

All that remains now is to traverse the city, meet the rest of the survivors and Glevith, to make it out of Phlan.

"Ready when you give the order, Lord Regent."

(ooc: Auriel heals himself for 10 HPs with Lay on Hands)

OOC: Each character has earned 250 XP for freeing the Lord Regent and the prisoners.

The rescued prisoners wander behind you and the Lord Regent as you lead the exodus from the Stojanow Gate. The streets of Phlan are increasingly more unrecognizable. The merchant stalls you saw mere hours ago are overturned, doors to shops and homes busted down. The Lord Regent keeps his gaze steadily forward, his jaw set. There are still the sounds of fighting in certain streets, but the city is otherwise quiet enough that you are able to move through alleys and narrow streets where necessary to avoid the source of the sounds.

When at last you turn the final corner into Scholar's Square, you can see the Cracked Crown ahead, the tavern standing like a beacon, the only structure nearby with glowing lamplight coming through its windows.

Hildigrim moves in tandem with the others, slinking from shadow to shadow with an arrow at the ready before him. He isn't about to let someone or something catch them off guard. The Lord Regent, Phlan, and the Moonsea are at stake.

In the back of his mind, the Watcher reviews the previous half hour, trying to organize what they learned from Spernik.

The Cult of the Dragon did not act blindly. The attack was timed for when the nobility had gathered. The strike was deliberate, not opportunistic.

The corruption runs deep. The followers of Bane within the Black Fist are not fringe sympathizers — they are organized, coordinated, and capable of acting from within.

Spernik was a facilitator, not a mastermind. The true architects remain unseen. Perhaps Severin, Spernik's resurrector?

The dragon was not his to command. He enabled the timing, not the attack itself. The creature acts on a will beyond him.

The Lord Regent was meant to die. His survival is an error in the Cult’s design — one they do not yet realize.

That thought lingers. A flaw in the plan: An opportunity.

And somewhere beneath all of it, one question refuses to settle: What's next? Spernik said Phlan — the Moonsea — is "just a taste."

The weight of Spernick's severed head jostles as the halfling moves along. Perhaps there will be time to burn it in the Cracked Crown. Perhaps he will toss it into the Moonsea. He isn't squeamish about the head, but he is ready to be done with it.

(ooc: Oops, it was the Cracked Crown instead of the Laughing Goblin!)

Auriel walks in silence with the rest of the group, not wanting to look around at the state the city is in, yet unable to ignore it. He is relieved to find that, contrary to his expectations, they encounter no trouble on their way to meet Glevith and the rest of the refugees. But that does not mean he feels at ease.

When the familiar shape of the Cracked Crown comes into view, he quickens his pace, moving ahead of the Lord Regent and his people to make sure everything is secure.

He approaches the front door and takes a careful look inside, checking the state of the tavern. If nothing seems amiss, he signals the others to come forward before stepping inside, expecting to find Glevith, Aya, Imizael, and the rest waiting within.

Inside of the Cracked Crown, Glevith stands at the impromptu war table with two women in leather armor, one a halfling and the other a grey-skinned half-elf. They appear to be in their final preparation stages, with satchels and weapons undergoing final checks for contents and proper fit.

As you enter, all three of them look genuinely shocked, their gaze passing you to the scene in the plaza beyond the doorway. "I thought you said they would be bringing a few people with us," the half-elf hisses, gesturing behind her to Aya, Imizael, and the others that had journeyed here from the Laughing Goblin. "Not half of the sodding town! They're going to find us for sure!"

"She's right. The lizards are already starting to prowl the sewers," the halfling woman says. "It will be nigh impossible for this many people to move through the sewers undetected."

Glevith sighs. "Linsa and Trunkey are right. I wasn't expecting you to bring more than those who have already arrived. I trust their advice," he says.

Carl gives a heavy sigh, saying "How can we help, to get everyone away?  A distraction?  A rear guard?"  He looks to Hildigrim and the Lord Regent, cracking his knuckles, readying himself for what may come next.  "Do we have to leave immediately?  Or do I have an hour or so to rest before we head on..."

“Rest while you can,” Hildigrim says to Carl.

Stepping forward, the halfling gives Glevith a brief nod before turning to the two unfamiliar faces. He adjusts his spectacles.

“Watcher Hildigrim Goodbody,” he introduces himself.

“Leaving anyone behind is unacceptable. We have enough capable hands — we can split into smaller groups and stagger departures.”

His gaze returns to Glevith.

“Spernik is dead,” he says evenly, “but he was not the one giving orders.” A slight pause. “Do you know the name Severin?”

"Finding more survivors should be a matter of rejoicing," Auriel adds after Hildigrim, "after the dragon and its minions have killed so many. If this poses a problem, then we find a better plan."

He pauses.

"If we split them into two groups, I can stay behind until the first has had time to escape. What other options are there?" he asks, giving Glevith, the half-elf, and the halfling a pointed look — one that clearly indicates he expects solutions, not complaints. 

Carl sits on the floor with his back against the wall, despite all of the stress, he closes his eyes.  Troubled images flit across his vision, but he tries to get in a short rest before they proceed further…

“Leaving anyone behind is unacceptable. We have enough capable hands — we can split into smaller groups and stagger departures.” (Persuasion: 22)

"If we split them into two groups, I can stay behind until the first has had time to escape. What other options are there?"

Glevith looks to Linsa and Trunkey. "Thoughts? Whatever you decide, I'll follow to the letter," he says. The pair share a look, and Linsa scoffs at Trunkey. "Don't," she starts, seeing something in the halfling's eyes. "Linsa, they're right. We have to at least try," Trunkey pleads.

The half-elf rolls her eyes. "Of course your gooey sense of duty would lead you to that sentiment," she says. She chews on her bottom lip for a long while, looking out of the open doors to the plaza. Her eyes snap back to the conversation. "We should be well compensated for the risk and trouble," she says to Glevith. He holds his hands out with a bemused expression, silently telling her to continue. Taking this as agreement, she turns back to the party. "You want us to bring this whole damn town out and risk our necks when we could just sally off ourselves? We'll need two gold pieces a head."

"Do we have to leave immediately?  Or do I have an hour or so to rest before we head on..."

"Final preparations are being made," Glevith answers. "But it's going to take more time than I'm comfortable with if your companions are able to convince mine to bring all of these people along, so...take a breather. I wouldn't get your hopes up, though. They don't call her Dark Linsa for nothing."

“Spernik is dead,” he says evenly, “but he was not the one giving orders.” A slight pause. “Do you know the name Severin?”

"Not a name I'm familiar with," Glevith says after some thought. "Doesn't surprise me though. There has to be some big players involved to get a dragon on their side."

Hildigrim isn't surprised when a fee is named. And he doesn't blame them. But he also isn't the one who should pay.

He turns to Ector Brahms. "Lord Regent, I know Phlan's treasury is in question at this time, but can assurances be made to repay these good folks for the service of ushering your people to safety?"

The Eladrin exhales slowly, shaking his head. "The devotion people of this material plane place in coin never ceases to amaze me."

He turns to Linsa. "Can't you see these people fled with little more than the clothes on their backs? Do you truly expect them to carry that much gold?"

A brief pause. "Be reasonable. If coin matters so much to you, then at least ask for a more reasonable price."

"Can't you see these people fled with little more than the clothes on their backs?" Linsa mocks Auriel in a high-pitched voice. "Look, our chances of success drop drastically if we add that many people to the list. If you're asking us to put our necks on the line, then we're going to get paid for it."

Glevith shrugs. "She has a point. I'm very confident in our odds if we can keep it to a dozen or so. With hundreds...that's a lot of room for error."

When the Lord Regent walks in with Aleyd's body, Hildigrim's question is interrupted by a wail of despair. Cassyt is among the crowd inside of the Cracked Crown, having apparently avoided capture by the Tears of Virulence in her flight from the Stojanow Gate. Ector Brahms somberly lays her body to the side, where Cassyt sinks to her knees beside the fallen knight, brushing her blood-crusted hair out of her face and straightening her crumpled uniform.

"Heart-warming, but pointless," Trunkey points out unhelpfully.

The Lord Regent returns to answer Hildigrim. "I cannot in good conscience provide a timeline, but of course if we are to retake Phlan, and its treasury, suitable arrangements can be made," he says, but Dark Linsa is already shaking her head. "No. Nuh uh. If we're risking our necks, we're getting paid for it today," she says.

Carl goes to a corner amid the haggling over coin and lives, plops down, head tilted forward and starts to rest.  Explosions could be happening all around him, but the dwarf pays no mind to them, soft snores escaping his protuberant nose.  ((Short rest taken.))

"No, you look, you coin-grubber," Auriel hisses, jabbing a finger into Linsa's chest.

"You know what will make everyone's chances of success drop drastically? Time. The time those hundreds spend out there waiting for us to lead them out of the city."

His finger presses in again, sharper this time.

"How long do you want to waste bargaining for your precious gold, hm? How long before they start getting nervous and draw unwanted attention? And how do you think they'll react when they learn they're not going anywhere until they pay what you’re demanding?”

He pauses, fixing her with a cold, contemptuous stare.

"I'll ask one last time. Lower your price. And be quick about it."

"It's fine," Hildigrim says, trying to cool the situation.

He looks at Linsa. "How many will you escort for free? Count me among them. I will go, learn the route, then return to escort the next group."

The Watcher turns to Auriel, looking resolved. "As you said, we don't have time. We need to get everyone out as quickly as possible, and if they won't help, we'll do the best we can."

Turning again to the three Welcomers, the halfling says, "And the Lord Regent will go with the first group as well, of course."

Auriel Intimidation: 7

"You misunderstand your place here," Linsa states once Auriel and Hildigrim have each spoken, taking a step forward. "You are standing in our tavern. You found us because Glevith let word reach you. We are the ones who know the route through the sewers, and we will divulge it to you if we are compensated for it. Without us, you and your bleeding hearts will be stuck in this town until the dragon and its cronies finally close in on you."

Glevith and Trunkey look on, Glevith leaning against the wall with a slightly concerned look, and Trunkey to the side with her arms crossed, the posture of both making it clear they have no intention of intervening. The bulky Turmish man that had prevented your entrance the first time you came to the Cracked Crown stands up from across the bar, noticing the tension, and starts walking over.

"Let me be perfectly clear. Just because you walk in here with the Lord Regent and a bunch of refugees doesn't mean you run this town. Nobody does. It's lost. And you'll either pay us two gold pieces per head, before we show you through the sewers, or you don't come with us. Your choice."

The Lord Regent mutters beneath his breath, then pulls Auriel and Hildigrim to the side. "If you have the money on hand, then pay them. We need to get these people out of Phlan and we need to get Aleyd's body out safely. If that comes at a cost, then the treasury I mentioned can be returned to your pockets instead of theirs," he says.

Auriel exhales sharply, muttering something under his breath in Elvish. He turns to Linsa and slams his coin purse against her chest.

"Here. Take your damned gold and choke on it."

Nodding once to Hildigrim and the Lord Regent, he turns and strides out of the tavern.

Outside, he begins addressing the gathered refugees, doing his best to steady them and keep panic at bay. Then, reluctantly, he explains the situation — that they will need to gather whatever coin they have among them to meet the remaining price demanded for their escape.

(ooc: Auriel's purse contains 100g)