"I'll do it," Neya nods and takes the rope and starts binding Farvnik.

Sleight of hand: 13

(Tactical mind, if needed: 3)

She then produces a potion of healing to perk him up.

"Heh... Ehh... True as that may be, Villie, I... Mmn..." Boozey trailed for moment scratching his head in thought. But then with a tired groan and a dismissive wave of the hand, he adds, "Ya know what? Fair enough. If nothing else, better in our hands then Claugy's men -- a-at least, fer now. But, only the lockbox stuff. But, the rest has to stay, least it weigh us down or give the wrong impression later once we're on the move." The halfling relented, if only to a point. For it didn't matter if the rest could be stuffed into the bag of holding, as that space might very well be soon reserved for more important commodities.

Boozey once again took stock of his own injuries, and after a moment's hesitation, opted to use a bit more salve and bandages from his quickly diminishing supply of healer's kits to further reinforce his previous treatment. "Look alive, Raist. Looks like sleeping beauty is waking." He notes, signaling the wizard to be ready with counter spells, while the halfling in the meantime stood nearby, looking to gauge the cultist initial reaction to waking up captured.

- Spending 3 more hit die/kit uses to restore 24 Hp to Boozey.

.

(OOC: Rolling the potion dice for Farvnik here, assuming @Drache opted for a vial of the common variety: 7.)

Villonah turns to look at Doozey. "Oh, it doesn't sit well with me either, but I guess I am trying to be realistic here. If we need resources to save people, we could put these to good use. But..." she waves to gesture towards the commoners saved from the streets. "...if we don't need it all, then we can instead use the coin in making sure these folks have a life afterwards." She raises both hands. "Either way, we gotta make sure there is an afterwards first."

While this conversation goes on, Neya uses some rope to tie Farvnik up. She uses one of the knots learned in her training, correcting herself in the process to ensure a tighter fit. She then raises a vial to indicate she is ready to start questioning the cultist. The halfling ranger takes the signal and speeds up his first-aid-administration, focusing back on his own wounds next. (Doozey recovers 24 HP.)

Neya administers the potion. Farvnik begins to come back into his own mind: "What? I... Arhhg....my head.... Where? Wait.... you, you didn't kill me? You pathetic weaklings!" He then begins to laugh mockingly at the group, presumably for showing mercy. His laugh is marred with strains of pain. 

Farvnik spits some blood on the ground. “It is just a matter of time before you all fall into the service of the new ruler of Phlan!”

"Are you talking about that dragon? It's been a while, but, is that Claugiyliamatar?" Neya asks, thrusting her thumb in the general direction towards the castle.

Though Doozey would nod along in agreement, his expression still carried a hint of lingering misgivings over the idea of taking any of the misbegotten goods and coin. Be all that as it may however, he wouldn't take back his suggestion to take the lockboxes with them, if only to put it to good use later down the line.

Eventually, Farvnik's ranting does break through to the halfling ranger, who after tightening one last bandage would make his way over to glare at the elf. "Either that, or she got herself one hell'uva look-alike consort." He chimed in without looking away from Farvnik. "Regardless, what's make'n ya so confident Phlan and its people is gonna fall into her service? We kicked yer ass well enough, and the city's defender aren't like to buckle that is from this 'little' attack, dragon or no." He asks, hoping to goad Farvnik a little into revealing something more.

-Persuasion: 13. (if needed)

"How dare you!" Farvnik snaps at Neya. "That is master Claugiyliamatar, Old Gnawbones herself, the Devourer of Men! She is a green dragon of incredible size and power who now rules Phlan by right of conquest. You owe her your unbendable servitude!" 

Then, the mention of the word "consort" pulls Farvnik's attention over to Doozey. Annoyed at first, the elf spellcaster (the enemy one, not Raist) then clings to another word in the halfling's goading statement: "defenders". At that word, he begins laughing evilly, before revealing: "Defenders? What defenders? We had learned there was a secret conference in Valjevo Castle attended by the Lord Regent, the masters of the town’s four major guilds, and the head of each noble house. You saw what happended to the castle, did you not? Your defenders are all slain and no one in the town now lives with a claim to the Cinnabar Throne!"

You all then hear the sounds of a moving set of armor. Aleyd appears next to Farvnik and delivers a potent, gauntleted backhand to the elf, nearly forcing him into unconsciousness again. She says no words in the moment, but her facial expression betrays a mix of anger and devastation at the news just revealed.

Still knelt with Imizael, Utar nods. "I cannot say what Mar would have us do, but I do know he died showing us his courage. He leapt into battle, thinking not of himself but of this place, his friends and you."

After a pause, Utar adds, "Perhaps if you would allow, I might perform a ritual? It would hold his body as it currently is, decay would not take hold and while he would not live, undeath would not be able to claim him."

If Imizael allows it, cast gentle repose as a ritual.

Imizael allows a few more tears to move down her face before nodding to Utar: "Yes... Yes..." Her emotions continue to pour over, her crying intensifies, and she holds one of Mar's hands tightly as Utar begins to perform his respectful ritual.

(OOC: Performing this ritual takes some 10 minutes, so I'll wait a bit more to see if others react to my previous post.)

Despite half expecting the worse given Captain Aleyd's prior warning of 'something' going down in the castle, Doozey's eyes still went a little wide in alarm. As he stood there for a moment quietly fighting to regain his composure, Aleyd's sudden attack has the ranger hopping a step back and biscuit letting out a 'Boof!?'. Doozey starts to say something to her, but seeing her expression in the wake of her action leaves him hesitant.

After a moment or two, he goes over to grab Favnik by the collar and steady the elf, and waited until he got at least some of his bearings back. "... It seems my compatriot here doesn't care too much fer lies, and frankly neither do I. 'cause how by the ninez would she have even known about this so called secret conference?" He scoffs. "Or is the next thing you gonna tell us House Sokol sold everyone out? Or was it maybe some fist higher up? I think we can agree that old Gnawbones is many things, but she ain't fool hardy enough to gamble her life when security both inside and out would've been heightened now would she?" He asks, again trying to goad the elf into revealing just a little more...

Meanwhile, Biscuit stands a little more on guard and poised to interecede the next time Aleyd has another outburst at the prisoner.

Persuasion: 19. (if needed. I would've guidance myself as well, but couldn't figure out a good way to work it in this time.)

"Quite frankly, that dragon actually saved us the trouble. Someone in a nearby forest views her as quite the problem and asked us to remove her, permanently. Locating her was one of our major hurdles."

Farvnik spits some blood on the ground before responding to Doozey: "Lies?! Hahahaha. Go on and tell yourself whatever it is you need to. Plenty of information going around if you know whom to ask. Plenty of willing tongues to spill the tea for the right price." He pauses for a second bout of red-tinged expectoration. "But spare me your questions. I do not know who those citizens might be. All I can say on that front is that I and the rest of my cultists got into town aboard ships. I do not know the arrangement, but we were docked for days while other allied ships arrived. No one ever searched or inventoried our vessel as would be expected from the dockmaster." 

Aleyd is fuming silently now, just a few steps away. Biscuit moves to be able to easily intercept her if needed.

When Neya suggests that the dragon might have done them a favor similarly to how a mouse might do when leaving its burrow to encounter an expectant cat, Farvnik's attitude become more defiant: "HAHAHA! Go on and try if you so wish for death. Claugiyliamatar has allied with the Cult of the Dragon in exchange for the town of Phlan, which now belongs to her. There is nothing you can do except serve or die!" He then resumes his triumphant laugh.  

As grating as Farvnik's remarks were becoming, the halfling only crossed his arms and continued to play things cool. To the best of his abilities, in any event. "... What is your name, elf?" Doozey finally asks of Farvnik, waits a beat for an answer, then regardless of what it is or tied to, carries on by placing a hand on the fanatical mage's shoulder. Even if the man tries to move to shrug him off, Doozey is persistent, and would hold him in place while Biscuit growls a warning.

"For what little it might be worth to you, I do thank you for your advice and cooperation, *insert name if given*. Just one more question, if you don't mind. Answer this, and then as far as I'm concerned, there's little reason to keep you bound." The moment anyone tries to raise their voice or move to reject the notion, the werebadger already has a hand/paw up in a halting gesture and side-eyes those he can in a single look with a 'Please, just trust me'.

Persuasion: 18. (for NPC allies, if needed)^

Following that, if no one intercedes he gives Farvnik his full attention, "Just where were you lot intending to take the people you were gathering up? The obvious answer is probably your mistress, but like... where exactly? I mean, I get that things are in, uhh, disarray as it is, and victory z'all but hers. But like, even with her smashing the leadership there's bound to be plenty enough of pockets of resistance to deal with for a few hours if even that. And I doubt she'd take too kindly to her new 'possessions' getting stolen away by suicidal heroes, or some such, right?" 

With that said, once Doozey had his answer, he look to the others and asks if they have anything more they'd wish to ask as well, patiently wait to see what came of them(if any are posed), and then with a final smile to Farvnik, he pats him once on the shoulder before suddenly trying to rip out the man's throat with the other claw. 

(OOC: If another persuasion check is necessary for Favnik or Farvnik, feel free to roll on my behalf DM)

"Why Phlan? From what we've heard of the city's history, it has been invaded, destroyed and rebuilt many times in the past. What makes this incursion so special?"

Pride exudes from his words as the prisoner replies to Doozey's next question. "I am Farvnik the Venomous!" He then looks a bit disgusted as the halfling places a hand on his shoulder. Doozey's next words hint at freedom, perhaps, for the prisoner, and Farvnik grins in delight. "Claugiyliamatar demands tribute and has sent her loyal subjects into the town to collect wealth and servants to be brought before her. My group was sent to round up the citizenry for food and able bodies. To where exactly, you ask? Does it matter? All of Phlan belongs to Old Gnawbones! We bring them to where in the city she is or demands!"

Farvnik's attention is then caught by Neya's next question. His words remain steadfast, but his wandering eyes betray a modicum of ignorance. Neya can tell (passive insight) that he does not know the answer to her question and is trying to cover it up with an answer that is so broad that it has a high chance of being accurate: "Power!"

(OOC: I'm delaying a tad resolving the last bit of @Ori's post to give a chance for everyone to get a last interaction with Farvnik. In the meantime...)

The rescued citizens of Phlan are wrapping up their tasks, be it barricading doors and windows, treating those who have suffered more severe wounds, or putting out any straggler flames. The food and drink provided by Aleyd's spell are welcomed, and the townsfolk are taking their portions and finding quiet places to eat and rest in the relative safety of the Laughing Goblin. Looking around, CRAP notices that a few of them are sparing glances back at the party members:

- A female elf in what would have been elegant but comfortable robes adjusts her glasses and finds a seat. She looks familiar to Utar, Doozey, Neya, and Raist.
- A halfling family (a mother, a father, and three daughters) begin to reach for and share some food. They seem to prefer bread despite of the richness of the magical spread.
- A female dwarf in leather armor tends to some of her wounds. She looks like she took quite a beating.
- Three human men, two of whom are shirtless, finish putting the final boards on a window and move straight to a barrel of wine intent on emptying it. 

Having concluded his ritual, Utar spends a final moment with Imizael before leaving her with her grief. "I will make sure that the House of the Hand is open to you, should you need it."

Standing, he turns to the rescued citizens, the elf catching his eye in particular.  He gives her a wide berth, but he attempts to recall where they might have met.

History - 6

Looking to the others, he offers his congratulations for a job well done, "Excellent work! Fires are out and the building is secure, well done everyone, enjoy your rest." stepping closer to the dwarf, he wonders, "Does anyone require any healing?"

Raist stays.at a.table.watching the prisoner intently.  He perks.up.a little.with Neya's question and waves her over

(If she approaches  he simply whispers. " the <> pool <> she's probably wanting the pool<>")

"Thank you," Imizael says sincerely to Utar. Then, not wanting to risk messing up the recently conclude ritual, Imizael kisses her hand and releases the gesture into the air above the respectfully covered body of Markoth Hasselpond. She stands up and starts moving toward the kitchen, searching for familiarity as a way to process her grief.

As Utar stands, Neya approaches Raist on request. CRAP's elven wizard shares his thought regarding a certain POOL with her and her alone in a whispering tone. The moment of relative secrecy is then broken by Farvnik's last gasps. This elf's life has been suddenly cut short by Doozey, who has held true to his "promise" of there being no need to keep the prisoner bound for much longer. As Farvnik's body hits the floor, a few of the townsfolk recoil in fear and disgust, but some others have a more determined look on their face, as if justice had been served in that moment and they got a chance to witness it. "If you hadn't, I would do so myself," Aleyd nods at Doozey. A few steps away, Villonah agrees with a wordless grunt.

By the time Utar reaches the dwarf's side, he has recognized the third elf in the room. She is Aya Glenmiir, a scholar at Mantor’s Library, the largest center of learning in Phlan and Raist's HQ other than the Leadstopper Residence. Aya has long, pale blonde hair and radiant green eyes, along with what Utar remembers to be a bit of an inflated ego. CRAP once investigated the theft of some of Mantor's Library's property that had been loaned out to Aya. Despite the suspicious circumstances, Aya turned out to be innocent, and she was able to share some valuable information with CRAP that eventually put them on the trail of the real thief: a cultist named Ellison Berenger. CRAP also discovered that Ellison was in cahoots with Spernik, the cultist whose delayed judgement and covert prison visits had just recently led Aleyd to come to CRAP in hopes of finding undeniable evidence of high-level corruption inside the Black Fist. But that was before Claugiyliamatar attacked the castle!

"It seems I was the one who needed it the most," the dwarf lady says to Utar. "Well, me and the halfling over there," she points to Doozey. She then extends a hand toward Utar and introduces herself: "Euripanee Thundershield."

"Of that, I have no doubts, Cap'n. But, I am halfling of my word, and I couldn't chance him try'n somethin' had he seen justice coming." Doozey said, then started to absentmindedly lick some of the blood from his claws. Fortunately, no sooner had he begun did the werebadger catch himself, and with a growl of mild annoyance took out a rag to continue cleaning his hand.

Sensing more than just the mixed gazes of the local townsfolk upon him, Doozey finally regarded Euripanee and Utar. But, rather than intrude in their conversation further, the halfling instead looked Aleyd, Villonah, and the rest of the party. "We need figure out next moves. 'cause even if things hadn't quite gone as smoothly as that nutjob figures, there's still plenty of fires -- both figuratively and literally in need of putting out across the town. And to be frank, I'm... I ain't sure just hold'n here is gonna do these folk good. Not fer long, anyhow." Doozey cups his chin and began scratching at the side of it in thought. "Way I see things so far is that we got three options. In two of which, we leave the civvies here to hold this place. Meanwhile, we either sneak or fight our way to castle that may or may be overrun with traitors and fanatics by now to try and take out Claugy, find and regroup with our allies scattered throughout the city and mount some type of resistance, or... rescue who we can and get them out of the city." He says, or more accurately thought aloud while beginning to pace.