Carl sees a particularly bleak situation when he takes to the skies. Several bodies lie still in death around the plaza outside of the Laughing Goblin, caught up in the ettin's poisonous breath. Those who did not flee for the safety of the Laughing Goblin are long gone from the plaza by now, but distant screams and shouts continue to echo from across the town, where the situation looks even worse. The rolling, poisonous fog still keeps the Black Fist and any other of Phlan's protectors from charging toward the castle, where the shadow of the dragon can barely be seen through the fog still perched on the castle, its wings and claws creating a mesmerizing pattern through the cloud.
With that entire section of the town seeming lost, the Laughing Goblin suddenly has become a fortress. It becomes quickly apparent to Hex and Hildigrim that while they had been battling the ettin, Aleyd had convinced a swath of the panicking populace to enter the inn's common room, and a flurry of worried conversation greets them. Auriel, finding no key on the robed man (but a plethora of coins, gems, and valuable small art pieces in his pockets) that is dragged into the Laughing Goblin, is easily able to smash the lock on the wagon cage, adding even more figures to the growing shelter: A halfling couple with their three daughters, a badly beaten dwarf woman, three clearly inebriated human gentlemen, and an elf woman likely nearing or entering her third century. The elf has long, pale blonde hair and radiant green eyes, and seems out of place among the survivors with the air of nobility about her. All look equally shaken up as they're escorted into the Laughing Goblin, where Aleyd has set about finding the healthiest individuals.
"Start barricading the doors and windows. Use chairs, boards, anything you can find," she barks out. "Lay the wounded out on tables first, then use any spare tables for barricades."
A choked sob comes from the shattered remains of the inn's front window, where Fat Mar lies dead. Imizael, typically so reserved if not condescending toward her server, now seems devastated, crying quietly as she covers his broken body with a blanket and sits beside him.
For Hex:
You recognize the elf as Aya Glenmiir, who you once questioned in her shop about a missing book.
The chaos and panic still echoing outside cut the halfling’s analysis short. Hildigrim ducks in after the last of the rescued prisoners, slipping into the relative dimness of the Laughing Goblin.
His sharp gaze snags almost immediately on the elf woman — too incongruous by half, standing out among the others — but he does not linger on her alone. Instead, he sweeps his eyes across the weary faces of the captives.
“From where were you taken?” he asks, tone brisk, skirting the edge of impatience. “Each of you — one by one, if you please.” The gesture of his ink-stained hand makes it plain he expects answers from them all, not just the elf.
In the back of his mind, a separate ledger of questions is already forming, intended for the unconscious wizard once he wakes. But even as he speaks, his ears remain pricked for the shouts and clash outside, his muscles twitching with the urge to bolt for the door again.
The city is still aflame with danger. And though his first duty here may be to listen, every nerve in his small body screams that there are still innocents who need saving.
Carl returns to the Laughing Goblin, landing and then walking up to the door, knocking. “It’s me, Carl, please, let me in! I’ve got news from above.” He hurries in and his eyes go wide with the number of people in here, the wounds everyone is tending to, then he turns to see the body of Fat Mar. His fists clench and his face turns red, anger coursing through him. After a few moments, he gathers himself, he sees Hildigrim, Hex and Auriel. He walks over to them.
"That foul dragon still is sittin on the castle, flappin its wings and letting the noxious fumes spread among the streets. Horrible destruction out there. The poison gas is keeping the Black Fist at bay, no one can charge up to the castle. They would find a swift death there, I'm sure. How does one even attack such a thing?" Carl's face is wrinkled up in a contortion of sadness and anger, he looks around the room, trying to calm his mind.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
As Hex ties up the robed man, she hears Imizael's cries and her fears are confirmed. Fat Mar was dead. Her heart drops and her hands begin to shake but she steels her focus as she tightens the final knot on the rope. Now was not the time to be emotional, she needed to focus on helping the survivors.
Before she goes to follow Aleyd's orders, she pulls the robed man to a corner of the inn, out of the way from everyone else but still in sight so that he can't easily escape. Then she spots the elf and pauses. It takes her a moment to remember where she had met her before but when she does, she approaches her cautiously. "Aya? Not sure you remember me, but I was a part of the group that helped find a missing book of yours a little while ago. Are you alright, not injured or anything?"
Auriel follows the group of captives into the Laughing Goblin with quick, steady steps, but his mind is a haze. He takes in the scene at once: refugees whispering in panic, Aleyd barking orders as she struggles to impose order, Imizael weeping over Fat Mar’s lifeless body. Carl’s report of what he has seen from above only deepens the dread hanging over the room.
The paladin has no words—none to ease the grief and panic around him, and none to answer Carl. They have survived the first onslaught, yes … but what now? Should they attempt to reach Valjevo Castle, or should they flee the city, leading as many souls as they can to safety? And how could they manage either with the poison fog choking the streets? One thing is certain: they cannot remain in the inn forever. The Maimed Virulence surely has more servants than the those they've defeated. How long before they find their way to the Laughing Goblin to finish what they started?
With these thoughts in mind, Auriel strides toward the corner where Hex has dragged the robed man. His blue and silver eyes sweep briefly over the rescued, lingering a heartbeat on the elf whose noble bearing sets her apart, then past Aleyd, Hildigrim, Hex, and Carl until he reaches the prisoner. Though Hex has already bound the man securely, Auriel crouches in front of him, stripping him of all he carries. Coins, gems, small pieces of art. So he has been looting as well as abducting people...? Having recognized him as a priest, whose spells are not so unlike his own, Auriel in particular takes his holy symbol before tying a blindfold across his eyes. Only when he is certain the man cannot gesture, cannot see, and cannot call upon his holy symbol does he wake him up. (ooc: If healing is needed to do this, he'll use a single point of Lay on Hands)
When the priest stirs, Auriel adresses him coldy. "Choose your next words carefully, priest. You are surrounded by the very people you tried to kill." He pauses,"What orders were you given? How many of you have attacked the city? And what is your purpose in Valjevo Castle?"
“From where were you taken?” he asks, tone brisk, skirting the edge of impatience. “Each of you — one by one, if you please.”
"W-we run the bakery a few blocksaway," thehalfling man answers Hildigrim first. His wife, clearly terrified, interjects, "I saw those things coming off a boat in the harbor right before they started raiding the neighborhood...they looked like goblins or something, but big, and...redskin..." She shivers at the memory, seeming to disappear into it until one of the younger women shakes her out of it.
"Hobgoblins," the dwarven woman explains. She is badly beaten, with one eye swollen shut and her lips split in several places, but for how well she seems to be ignoring the bruises, they may as well be painted on. "I was actually headin' here for a drink afore they tried to take me. I put a hurtin' on 'em too afore theydid," she says. "Ye did good work. They ain't so tough when they don't got the numbers."
The last to answer are the three inebriated men. "Uh...we work at the docks," one of them stammers. "Buncha things came out the sewers right after that big shadow passed over."
"That foul dragon still is sittin on the castle, flappin its wings and letting the noxious fumes spread among the streets. Horrible destruction out there. The poison gas is keeping the Black Fist at bay, no one can charge up to the castle. They would find a swift death there, I'm sure. How does one even attack such a thing?"
"One does not," Aleyd says to Carl. "We'd need an army for that, one that Phlan does not have. For now, we need to help those we can before we even think about how to strike back. Help barricade that door."
"Aya? Not sure you remember me, but I was a part of the group that helped find a missing book of yours a little while ago. Are you alright, not injured or anything?"
Ava looks up at Hex's approach, clearly nervous. "Ah, yes," Aya says to Hex with a smile. "Were you ever able to track down The Weave: A Collection of Impractical Observations? I'm afraid the Library has been quite reluctant to lend me anything quite so valuable again, ever since that incident." She laughs nervously, her eyes anxiously darting between Hex and the windows being barricaded at the other end of the common room, and her demeanor shifts away from the temporary distraction back to the fear of her current situation.
"I'm fine, just a bit shaken up. But do you know who that was? That was Vorgansharax, a true dragon--and not a young one, at that. Our lives are forfeit if we remain here any longer! You've got to get everyone out!"
"Choose your next words carefully, priest. You are surrounded by the very people you tried to kill." He pauses,"What orders were you given? How many of you have attacked the city? And what is your purpose in Valjevo Castle?"
The robed man stirs, quickly gaining awareness of his surroundings. Seeing Auriel awaken him, Aleyd walks over to stand over the man, adding further weight and authority to Auriel's words. Despite his situation, he wears a confident grin as he responds. "Vorgansharax demands tribute. We, as his loyal subjects, were to collect wealth and slaves to be brought before him. I know not our full number, but know that your resistance is futile. The Maimed Virulence now rules Phlan by right of conquest."
To Auriel's last question, he gloats, "Our master learned of a secret conference in Valjevo Castle today, attended by the Lord Regent, the masters of each of Phlan's four guilds, and the head of each of Phlan's noble houses. Now, they are slain, and not a soul in this town lives with a claim to to the Cinnabar Throne!" His cackle is cut short as Aleyd delivers a potent, gauntleted backhand to the man, rocking his head back off of the floorboards. Despite his bravado, he looks quite dazed now as Auriel notices Aleyd's hand trembling as she moves it to her temple, looking devastated.
Hex overhears Aleyd's remark to Carl and now, it would seem Aya is of the same mind as the knight. There was no way they would be able to defeat the dragon, not in their current state at least. "You know about that dragon? Is there anything you can tell us?" She looks towards the growing crowd in the inn with worry. "I want to get everyone out as well but I have no idea how we're going to do that." Her eyes land on Aleyd just in time to catch her sudden backhand to the cultist. "Actually, hold that thought. You should talk to Knight Aleyd instead of just me. If we work together, we might be able to come up with a plan."
Auriel himself feels the urge to strike the man as he gloats over what they've done to the city and its people, but he is cut short when Aleyd does it instead—and with tremendous strength. As his eyes shift to the Black Fist, he sees how deeply the revelation has shaken her. Choosing his words carefully, he speaks to her rather than the prisoner.
"But there must be a protocol for situations like this one. There is always a successor to the throne in cases where the line—or even the council as a whole—has been broken. And there may yet be survivors: the next in the chain of command for the guilds, or heirs to the noble houses. They cannot all have fallen."
He turns his gaze back to the man. "How can you be certain they are all slain? You were not in the castle—you were in the streets, looting and kidnapping. You have no way of knowing what became of those inside." Then, with a steady glance toward Aleyd, he adds, "I imagine the Lord Protector is not surrounded by fools or cowards. They would defend him—and the others as well. Someone could yet live."
Regardless of what truth lies in the prisoner's words, Auriel adds. "And what of Phlan's allies? I have not known this city long, but we secured the help of the Quivering Forest. Surely there are others who would answer Phlan's call?"
Carl sees a particularly bleak situation when he takes to the skies. Several bodies lie still in death around the plaza outside of the Laughing Goblin, caught up in the ettin's poisonous breath. Those who did not flee for the safety of the Laughing Goblin are long gone from the plaza by now, but distant screams and shouts continue to echo from across the town, where the situation looks even worse. The rolling, poisonous fog still keeps the Black Fist and any other of Phlan's protectors from charging toward the castle, where the shadow of the dragon can barely be seen through the fog still perched on the castle, its wings and claws creating a mesmerizing pattern through the cloud.
With that entire section of the town seeming lost, the Laughing Goblin suddenly has become a fortress. It becomes quickly apparent to Hex and Hildigrim that while they had been battling the ettin, Aleyd had convinced a swath of the panicking populace to enter the inn's common room, and a flurry of worried conversation greets them. Auriel, finding no key on the robed man (but a plethora of coins, gems, and valuable small art pieces in his pockets) that is dragged into the Laughing Goblin, is easily able to smash the lock on the wagon cage, adding even more figures to the growing shelter: A halfling couple with their three daughters, a badly beaten dwarf woman, three clearly inebriated human gentlemen, and an elf woman likely nearing or entering her third century. The elf has long, pale blonde hair and radiant green eyes, and seems out of place among the survivors with the air of nobility about her. All look equally shaken up as they're escorted into the Laughing Goblin, where Aleyd has set about finding the healthiest individuals.
"Start barricading the doors and windows. Use chairs, boards, anything you can find," she barks out. "Lay the wounded out on tables first, then use any spare tables for barricades."
A choked sob comes from the shattered remains of the inn's front window, where Fat Mar lies dead. Imizael, typically so reserved if not condescending toward her server, now seems devastated, crying quietly as she covers his broken body with a blanket and sits beside him.
For Hex:
You recognize the elf as Aya Glenmiir, who you once questioned in her shop about a missing book.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
The chaos and panic still echoing outside cut the halfling’s analysis short. Hildigrim ducks in after the last of the rescued prisoners, slipping into the relative dimness of the Laughing Goblin.
His sharp gaze snags almost immediately on the elf woman — too incongruous by half, standing out among the others — but he does not linger on her alone. Instead, he sweeps his eyes across the weary faces of the captives.
“From where were you taken?” he asks, tone brisk, skirting the edge of impatience. “Each of you — one by one, if you please.” The gesture of his ink-stained hand makes it plain he expects answers from them all, not just the elf.
In the back of his mind, a separate ledger of questions is already forming, intended for the unconscious wizard once he wakes. But even as he speaks, his ears remain pricked for the shouts and clash outside, his muscles twitching with the urge to bolt for the door again.
The city is still aflame with danger. And though his first duty here may be to listen, every nerve in his small body screams that there are still innocents who need saving.
Carl returns to the Laughing Goblin, landing and then walking up to the door, knocking. “It’s me, Carl, please, let me in! I’ve got news from above.” He hurries in and his eyes go wide with the number of people in here, the wounds everyone is tending to, then he turns to see the body of Fat Mar. His fists clench and his face turns red, anger coursing through him. After a few moments, he gathers himself, he sees Hildigrim, Hex and Auriel. He walks over to them.
"That foul dragon still is sittin on the castle, flappin its wings and letting the noxious fumes spread among the streets. Horrible destruction out there. The poison gas is keeping the Black Fist at bay, no one can charge up to the castle. They would find a swift death there, I'm sure. How does one even attack such a thing?" Carl's face is wrinkled up in a contortion of sadness and anger, he looks around the room, trying to calm his mind.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
As Hex ties up the robed man, she hears Imizael's cries and her fears are confirmed. Fat Mar was dead. Her heart drops and her hands begin to shake but she steels her focus as she tightens the final knot on the rope. Now was not the time to be emotional, she needed to focus on helping the survivors.
Before she goes to follow Aleyd's orders, she pulls the robed man to a corner of the inn, out of the way from everyone else but still in sight so that he can't easily escape. Then she spots the elf and pauses. It takes her a moment to remember where she had met her before but when she does, she approaches her cautiously. "Aya? Not sure you remember me, but I was a part of the group that helped find a missing book of yours a little while ago. Are you alright, not injured or anything?"
Auriel follows the group of captives into the Laughing Goblin with quick, steady steps, but his mind is a haze. He takes in the scene at once: refugees whispering in panic, Aleyd barking orders as she struggles to impose order, Imizael weeping over Fat Mar’s lifeless body. Carl’s report of what he has seen from above only deepens the dread hanging over the room.
The paladin has no words—none to ease the grief and panic around him, and none to answer Carl. They have survived the first onslaught, yes … but what now? Should they attempt to reach Valjevo Castle, or should they flee the city, leading as many souls as they can to safety? And how could they manage either with the poison fog choking the streets? One thing is certain: they cannot remain in the inn forever. The Maimed Virulence surely has more servants than the those they've defeated. How long before they find their way to the Laughing Goblin to finish what they started?
With these thoughts in mind, Auriel strides toward the corner where Hex has dragged the robed man. His blue and silver eyes sweep briefly over the rescued, lingering a heartbeat on the elf whose noble bearing sets her apart, then past Aleyd, Hildigrim, Hex, and Carl until he reaches the prisoner. Though Hex has already bound the man securely, Auriel crouches in front of him, stripping him of all he carries. Coins, gems, small pieces of art. So he has been looting as well as abducting people...? Having recognized him as a priest, whose spells are not so unlike his own, Auriel in particular takes his holy symbol before tying a blindfold across his eyes. Only when he is certain the man cannot gesture, cannot see, and cannot call upon his holy symbol does he wake him up. (ooc: If healing is needed to do this, he'll use a single point of Lay on Hands)
When the priest stirs, Auriel adresses him coldy. "Choose your next words carefully, priest. You are surrounded by the very people you tried to kill." He pauses, "What orders were you given? How many of you have attacked the city? And what is your purpose in Valjevo Castle?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
"W-we run the bakery a few blocks away," the halfling man answers Hildigrim first. His wife, clearly terrified, interjects, "I saw those things coming off a boat in the harbor right before they started raiding the neighborhood...they looked like goblins or something, but big, and...red skin..." She shivers at the memory, seeming to disappear into it until one of the younger women shakes her out of it.
"Hobgoblins," the dwarven woman explains. She is badly beaten, with one eye swollen shut and her lips split in several places, but for how well she seems to be ignoring the bruises, they may as well be painted on. "I was actually headin' here for a drink afore they tried to take me. I put a hurtin' on 'em too afore they did," she says. "Ye did good work. They ain't so tough when they don't got the numbers."
The last to answer are the three inebriated men. "Uh...we work at the docks," one of them stammers. "Buncha things came out the sewers right after that big shadow passed over."
"One does not," Aleyd says to Carl. "We'd need an army for that, one that Phlan does not have. For now, we need to help those we can before we even think about how to strike back. Help barricade that door."
Ava looks up at Hex's approach, clearly nervous. "Ah, yes," Aya says to Hex with a smile. "Were you ever able to track down The Weave: A Collection of Impractical Observations? I'm afraid the Library has been quite reluctant to lend me anything quite so valuable again, ever since that incident." She laughs nervously, her eyes anxiously darting between Hex and the windows being barricaded at the other end of the common room, and her demeanor shifts away from the temporary distraction back to the fear of her current situation.
"I'm fine, just a bit shaken up. But do you know who that was? That was Vorgansharax, a true dragon--and not a young one, at that. Our lives are forfeit if we remain here any longer! You've got to get everyone out!"
The robed man stirs, quickly gaining awareness of his surroundings. Seeing Auriel awaken him, Aleyd walks over to stand over the man, adding further weight and authority to Auriel's words. Despite his situation, he wears a confident grin as he responds. "Vorgansharax demands tribute. We, as his loyal subjects, were to collect wealth and slaves to be brought before him. I know not our full number, but know that your resistance is futile. The Maimed Virulence now rules Phlan by right of conquest."
To Auriel's last question, he gloats, "Our master learned of a secret conference in Valjevo Castle today, attended by the Lord Regent, the masters of each of Phlan's four guilds, and the head of each of Phlan's noble houses. Now, they are slain, and not a soul in this town lives with a claim to to the Cinnabar Throne!" His cackle is cut short as Aleyd delivers a potent, gauntleted backhand to the man, rocking his head back off of the floorboards. Despite his bravado, he looks quite dazed now as Auriel notices Aleyd's hand trembling as she moves it to her temple, looking devastated.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
Hex overhears Aleyd's remark to Carl and now, it would seem Aya is of the same mind as the knight. There was no way they would be able to defeat the dragon, not in their current state at least. "You know about that dragon? Is there anything you can tell us?" She looks towards the growing crowd in the inn with worry. "I want to get everyone out as well but I have no idea how we're going to do that." Her eyes land on Aleyd just in time to catch her sudden backhand to the cultist. "Actually, hold that thought. You should talk to Knight Aleyd instead of just me. If we work together, we might be able to come up with a plan."
Auriel himself feels the urge to strike the man as he gloats over what they've done to the city and its people, but he is cut short when Aleyd does it instead—and with tremendous strength. As his eyes shift to the Black Fist, he sees how deeply the revelation has shaken her. Choosing his words carefully, he speaks to her rather than the prisoner.
"But there must be a protocol for situations like this one. There is always a successor to the throne in cases where the line—or even the council as a whole—has been broken. And there may yet be survivors: the next in the chain of command for the guilds, or heirs to the noble houses. They cannot all have fallen."
He turns his gaze back to the man. "How can you be certain they are all slain? You were not in the castle—you were in the streets, looting and kidnapping. You have no way of knowing what became of those inside." Then, with a steady glance toward Aleyd, he adds, "I imagine the Lord Protector is not surrounded by fools or cowards. They would defend him—and the others as well. Someone could yet live."
Regardless of what truth lies in the prisoner's words, Auriel adds. "And what of Phlan's allies? I have not known this city long, but we secured the help of the Quivering Forest. Surely there are others who would answer Phlan's call?"
(ooc: can I have an insight check on the man?)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra