Perspicacious will look aheadand help direct Amaruve in any way she can, with mage hand... if it helps.

(AP, can you give us a little flavor while we're waiting for someone to make an executive decision? My impression of Perspicacious is that she probably doesn't utilize her bloodline abilities often- am I off base there? How does she bring it forth, and what is she anticipating?)

Perspicacious uses her mage hand ability whenever it's pertinent. It's helped her out of tight spots, and made acquiring certain information easier to obtain. She doesn't use it frivolously, like to grab drinks from the icebox or anything.

Invoking it now, a rosegold, shimmering, clawed hand appears about 10 feet ahead of Amaruve, pointing the way to go as best she can tell, and ready to help open any doors, gates, or move debris light enough for the mage hand to affect.

"Good enough!" Jean exclaimed and ran in the pointed direction.

Amaruve gallop through the narrow halls neighing as he knocks over any thing to large or slow to move from his path, showing no indication of stopping before reaching the surface.

Cordelia follows the pounding hooves while continuing to fire back to slow the creature following. She stays near Gordra to protect him if she can. (hitting 9 for 7 piercing if needed)

Gordra just keeps his eyes on his allies ahead of him, he thinks if he stops to look back his leg might lock up on him. He keeps running as fast as his old bones can move him. 

(Cordelia's arrow bounces harmlessly off of its chitinous armor)

The beast ensnared by Jean's command, you make it to the end of the tunnel. Stone steps lead to an open pipe (which is slightly larger than the diameter of your average bear-horse). It is a terrifying escape slipping up the 30 degree angle of the pipe, but thanks to a quick unlatching by Perpicacious' mage hand, Amaruve is able to burst through the grate and into a golden-lit market space, the rest of the party close behind him. 

The stalls and open-air shops hug the exterior of the arena (think Wrigleyville outside of the Cubs stadium in Chicago, if you're familiar). A thick crowd occupies this space; the last fight having just concluded and the evening festivities about to begin. You attract attention immediately. A drunken man points his stein in your direction, slopping beer across the pavement stones in front of him, and shouts, "It's the Thunder Steins!" A chorus of shouts and cheers rises from many of the nearby revelers, which serves to conveniently mask the muted chittering roar of the dragon centipede (which has just entered the tunnel and was repelled by the sunlight).

There is a tense moment while the five of you are buffeted by pats on the back (or knee if you're a mounted tiefling, or flank if you're a temporary horse) while you stare intently at the opening of the tunnel, but the centipede doesn't emerge. Eventually, you all silently agree that the best course of action would be to gain as much distance as possible while the waning sunlight lasts. 

You push your way through the crowd (which is beginning to lose interest- you aren't the only winners today). There aren't any obvious hiding places or strongholds,  but Perspicacious, you do see something of note. Perhaps three quarters of a mile away, there is a tall, graceful, white stone bridge that arcs upward and away from the arena square into the heart of the surrounding city. You reach into your pocket and re-read the crumpled note which was passed to you by the drunken cleric in the medica. Written in what you now realize is a looping goblish script are two words: 

Bridge. Tonight.

Perspicacious is tired, weary, and in need of a bath. Is this what all hobgoblins smell like? All the time? She absently fingers the gold coin in her pocket, seeing if she can get any more of those thin lines to appear and help her escape this body. In the pocket by the coin, she finds the note, and reading it again, makes the connection to the bridge in their view. She will try to get everyone's attention.

"Maybe now that we're on our own we can have a civilized conversation? Such as what in the nine hells is happening to us? I suggest we make our way to that bridge, maybe find an out of the way spot to discuss." Her stomach grumbles, a loud, large rumbling she is not used to. "Perhaps over a meal..."

"I agree, there is so much to discuss. A place where we can speak without being disturbed would be lovely at this point." Gordra looks around at any of the shops or stalls nearby to see if there is somewhere with appetizing looking food.  

/ooc something that hasn't occurred to me or Gordra yet, but can I call on any of Porter's knowledge to see what he might know about the area? is there a check i need to do? or can i just do/not do it?**

(All in good time, Shaz. Perspicacious has a line into Rog's thoughts and memories, but no one else does yet.)

Jean smiled wryly. "I certainly wouldn't say no to a hot meal, but do we even have any of the local currency?"

(It is maybe 2-3 hours until full dark. You have limited time in which to rest and make a plan)

As you draw nearer to the bridge, you see that in addition to the main walkway (that spans the half mile-wide gulf between the arena peninsula and the mainland) there are shops and restaurants above and below. The bridge, though fine and graceful, is actually quite sturdy. That it can bear so much weight with such apparent ease is a little mind-boggling. Now that you can look around a bit, you notice that rest the architecture of this place is stunning. Like the arena, every building appears to be made of a black-veined white marble carved into bold, striking, and interesting shapes. In fact, much of it is similar to the more beautiful of the stonework that was found in the Intervexus Academy...

Back to the bridge, though. You can see that there is a cleverly suspended restaurant/tavern underslinging the first section of the bridge nearest you. A smiling hostess is handing out menus to well-dressed patrons. Seeing you approach, her eyes widen in recognition as she calls out, "Thunder Steins! And Rog the Ranger! A meal for the mighty fighters of the arena at our finest table!" 

(I've got you, Jean)

Jean grinned, "Well! That fixes that!" She said with a laugh.

Amaruve considers ducking into an alley to heal Perspicacious properly, but he thinks it would be unwise to bring a loose bear into a crowded market, and opts to play the part of a magnificent mount for now. He doesn't seem to realize that no one in their right mind would describe him as magnificent in his current form.

(PbP Calvinball: I'm going to assume you all follow the landing strip I've lit for you into the restaurant, but as always, it's your call. If you do decide to rest, recover, and strategize in the Underway Inn, I'd like you all to fully recover as though you've had a long rest, then Level up to 3- you've been through a lot! Your leveling progression generally won't be as quick as it has been, but you're going to need it in light of recent events...)

Gordra would take a seat when the hostess takes us to our table "So everyone, thoughts? I for one feel like this 'Duke' might be someone we need to speak to.  If that Mr. Pretender wanted so badly for us to stay away from him, I feel like that's exactly where we ought to be heading."  and Gordra would also take a peak at the DST to see how recent events have effected it.

As you approach, the woman's smile falters. She would have sworn that the hobgoblin was sitting astride a shaggy black horse. Now, though, the ranger was holding a shaggy black cat... something... in his arms. The cat-thing leapt lightly to the ground, and with a look upward into the faces of the others, it dashes into the shadows. She lets out a guttural cough of surprise, and then (recovering swiftly) she says with a touch of congenial irony, "Right this way, right this way, oh fighters four!" 

She leads you all into the restaurant, which is... wonderful. Fresh, hot food on clean plates, crisp linens, smiling faces and bottles of wine. Definitely not Amaruve's scene, but the rest of you... You dig right in. 

(Now you can recover, level up, etc!)

Once the others are inside Amaruve looks for an opportunity to shift unnoticed. He takes on the form of a small overly-fluffy black cat. With the form he feels a bit curious. He pokes around the tavern eaves, nearby rooftops, and the nearby cliff face. He eventually looks for a quiet, secluded space, possibly a cave or something, where no one will notice a bear for awhile.

He enjoys his temporary quiet solitude, but knows the others will need his aid soon. Vasht seemed to think they would be in this situation for a long time. He seemed to think they had been in this situation for quite some time already in fact.

Amaruve enjoys a little cat nap, and finds (not wholly unexpectedly) that he has returned to the form of a bear. This was unlike his Wild Shape. It felt different. As a cat he could feel the time was short, less eminent at first, but as an hour came he knew his shape would revert, and felt it coming. The last 10 minutes or so, felt more like it had always felt when he took the Wild Hunt, impermanent. This form, didn't have that feeling of slipping. It felt almost natural. Like it was meant to be. He would have to remember, who he was, Amaruve Al'Ameth. It was important... Don't forget yourself...

Amaruve:

...

Long ago Amaruve's people were hunted in his ancestral land. There unique form of Lycanthropy was seen as an unholy disease. Some tried to distance themselves from the natural world, to hide in society, these people made great strides, in their own way, to end the misguided views of his people, but most were ultimately found and suffered greatly. Some tribes survived in nature, hidden from the eyes of the hateful, embracing their gifts of the wild. These were Amaruve's ancestors... 

As Amaruve napped a spirit of nature appeared to him. A vision, a spirit animal, a guide from Gaia. A great ancient bear. It would lend him its strength...

(Okay, Amaruve is opting for solitary rest, which will remove him from immediate conversation. Editing my post now)