Horrence, grabbing the door you slam it with both hands and then step away to remotely detonate your arcane turret. You hear the faint, dull beeping coming from beyond the door and then an explosion shakes dust and plaster from the walls even as it drowns out muffled screams. 

A childlike grin comes over Horrence's face as the rumbling of the blast comes to an end. "Oh I've always wanted to try that! May I suggest we take a look inside?" he looks at the assembled group expectantly.

Fodd blinks dumbly for a moment at the door in front of him as the dust settles, his sword and shield still raised for combat. Then he cautiously tries the handle, his sword still ready to stab or deflect anything that comes from the other side as he slowly creaks the door open.

If she can, Ella will edge away from the doorway with Mika's body. 

Ragnor, you arrive at the top of the stairs, largely filling the corridor with your hairy bulk, just as Fodd cautiously edges the door open and peaks inside. Ella, moving gently so as to avoid re-opening Mika's wounds, drags the young girl away from the door and to the north, laying her back down next to the open door of Horrence's room. 

The door creaks slowly open, releasing air heavy with the smell of burning flesh and freshly spilled blood. There's a faint smoke in the air, quickly dissipating through the open window but still partially obscuring sight. Through gaps in this smoke, you see the forms of two muscular figures slumped against the north and south walls. They look to have been thrown like ragdolls, heavily burned and ultimately broken by an explosion emanating from the center of the room where a charred black circle is all that remains from Horrence's turret.

The room is badly charred, with the blanket Ella used as a makeshift net burned almost to nothingness and significant signs of flash-burning on the beds and even walls. Of the feather-cloaked man, there is no sign. 

== Initiative / Combat Mode Over == 

== The Party Levels Up ==

... someone go get Corryn out of his bedroom.  

Horrence, seeing the carnage that has been wrought, turns slightly white. "Oh God, those poor devils, I can't imagine this is how they wanted to end their lives." he says quietly, shaking his head. "And you, Ella- I am so sorry for what's happened to your room... I...um.... well... needs must I assure you."

As he says this his eyes fall on Mika's body, suddenly remembering what happened to her "Oh God, yes, the young one. Quickly now, Ella, are you able to help her?"

"Fodd, can you help me get her to a bed please?" Ella asks from her place kneeling on the floor, fingers pressed against Mika's wrist, monitoring the sluggish pulse of her blood. "Let's not wake her up on the floor and force her to walk. Then let me have a look at your jaw Professor, and oh Lady, your side too Fodd. Is anyone else hurt?" 

Ella, Mika's pulse is weak but regular ((could you do a medicine check please?)).

As the group assembles in the corridor you hear footsteps on the stairs and Joviar's head appears, cautiously peaking upward, the top of his powerful maul also visible. He calls up cautiously, 

Is everyone alive up there?

Fodd bends and as delicately as possible lifts Mika from the ground, making sure to grasp her only in the most respectful places possible. She feels close to weightless, even in his tired arms. Fearing for her, and praying fervently she will recover, he allows his healing powers to flow into her as he holds her (Lay On Hands for 10HP). "We're all alive Mr Joviar" he calls out, then looks to Ella, a little awkward. "Er.. whose bed should I put her in? I don't think yours is suitable anymore..." he nods at the blackened mess on the other side of the door.

Medicine check = 20

Mind starting to process consciously what had just happened to them all, Ella says, “They’ll be coming back for us, and to finish Mika off. We were offered the safety of the tunnels below. Perhaps that would have been a wiser choice. Somewhere they can’t peer in. At least until daylight.”

She levers herself up using the wall for support, and stands behind Horrence, gazing at what remains of her bedroom. “It’s alright Professor, you did what you had to do to save us. Why don’t you go downstairs with Fodd, perhaps take some hot tea with a dash of something stronger to settle your nerves?”

She steps across the charred, ash-strewn floor to pull her few belongings out, loading her arms primarily with the heavy leather of her armour and her crossbow.

(DM: If you'll allow it)

Ragnor looks toward Ella as she tends to Mika. He peers his once again Dwarven face into the room "I've learned a thing or two in my travels, allow me to help you tend her wounds" (18 Medicine)

Fodd, you respectfully lay your hands on the unconscious girl and channel holy light into her. At your behest, wounds close and even spilled blood seems to recede, as if washed away by the cleansing power of your conviction. Still, despite the absence of bleeding and the various wounds upon her fading to merely large bruises and welts, she stirs only very weakly. 

Joviar, smiles widely at you, relief evident on his features. 

"I heard the explosion and feared the worst. These lunatics would not be above a barrel of lamp-oil through the window or some magical nastiness. Still, it sounds like we've seen them off at least for the moment. Let us regroup downstairs, discuss our next course of action?"

Ella and Ragnor (shifting out of wildshape), when Mika fails to wake up following Fodd's healing, you work together to do a proper appraisal of her condition. This process consists overwhelmingly of Ella using her trained, medical knowledge and Ragnor offering a ceaseless string of folksy wisdom and half-remembered physiological lore in a grumbling baritone. What should be an infuriating distraction proves strangely helpful. The gentle rumble structures thoughts and the meandering stream of notes yields nuggets that trigger recollections. 

The overall picture is one of a body taken well beyond its limits. She is tough for her age, and desperation made her more so during the fight, but the trauma of days without sleep, various bloody conflicts, the channeling of significant magical energies beyond her normal capabilities and the repeated stress of being wounded and magically healed have drained her utterly. She hovers somewhere between comma and deepest sleep, as her body simply shuts down after the exertion she's experienced. You jointly reach the view that she's in no immediate danger, but has simply been wrung out like a wet towel. 

Ella, leaving Mika in Fodd's care you gingerly re-enter what used to be your room but now resembles some appalling combination of a charnel house and the inside of an unlit furnace. Thankfully, the stout oak of the chest at the foot of your bed largely shielded your belongings from both the fight and the blast, and you are able to extract them relatively intact. 

Corryn, you can just about hear all this happening through the closed door of your bedroom. You can also discern a distinct lack of screaming, explosions and butchery.

Fodd carries Mika into the spare room and gingerly lays her in the bed before taking a moment to carefully tuck her in, then goes downstairs as Joviar instructed.

As Ragnor starts heading downstairs the momentary reprieve from his anger subsides and he begins ranting to anyone that will listen.

It is clear that these monsters respect no man, woman or beast. The only cure for a terror like this is a justice that can not be found with words. I have spent much of my life around men like this. Men who think that power or wealth make them immune to consequences for their destruction of all that is good in this world... And... And they're right. They are right because those who fight for good restrain themselves with propriety and notions of noble civility. Oh please sir, please don't murder this young child in her sleep I'd be ever so grateful. A man who does not value that sanctity of life surely can not value the thoughts of those who possess it. No, the only thing he understands is the sharp end of a blade.

I vowed long ago that I would not let artificial rules of what men believe justice to be to stop me from extracting the kind of justice that nature demands. The order of things can only be maintained when those who fight for good care more for justice than the perception of justice. I will not stand by any longer. I will take the fight to him and I will win because this is the way nature's order is maintained. You may join me if you wish. 

Ella is going get changed into her armour and day clothes before heading downstairs. 

Realising that the fight seems to be over, Corryn will close the window and rearm its intrusion detection measures (piece of string). Then he will tidy up his room somewhat and put things in their place, before checking over his equipment, stowing everything in his pack and on his clothes, and heading downstairs while trying to remain inconspicuous.

One by one, you all descend into the tavern common room. It takes a few minutes, between Corryn's preparations and Ella's change of wardrobe.

In your absence, the staff have emerged from where they were hiding and have moved with brisk efficiency. A corner of the room has been cleared of furniture and covered with what looks like an old carpet dragged out from storage. Atop it lie the bodies of those attackers who fell inside the common room, and in the street outside. As the last of you descend Griga and Elin finish depositing and positioning the second of the robed attackers, the third now little more than ash. With grim determination, the two of them head past you and up the stairs, likely to soon return with the corpses of the thugs from upstairs. 

Joviar leans heavily against the bar, casting the occasional longing glance at its contents but limiting himself to a large carafe of water. His shoulders are slumped with weariness, but a fierce anger burns in his deep-set eyes. 

So this is their idea of a public trial, is it? Sorcery in the dark? 

Corryn, after nodding to Joviar, will approach the corpses and check them for anything that might shed some light on who they are or who sent them; he'll methodically put anything he finds, including weapons, pouches, etc. on the ground in an orderly fashion.

“Indeed,” says Ella, grimly. “I thought last night was the beginning of a battle for public support - perhaps not the kind of battle you’d like to rage right now Mr Fireforge, but the battle we are ultimately in. Perhaps these Purifiers thought there was a risk that they would lose that fight after our Fodd’s performance. 

“I do not know how we win that battle, but perhaps two things. Firstly, we need to preserve the evidence - so forgive me if I do not tend the wounds you have taken just yet.” Unconsciously, her hands drifts to where blood has matted her hair. “The people should know the morality of those claiming to speak for the gods. Secondly, we need to keep an eye on Mika. The man in my bedroom said he would be back for us, they certainly will be back for her if they suspect there’s a chance she’s alive. Mr Goldweaver, do you perhaps have a creature that could remain up there with her and keep an eye on the window please? That would be of great use at this moment.”

Corryn, without the pressure of combat and with your experience, you have little trouble in quickly sorting through the belongings of the dead and arranging what you find at their feet. 

The two remaining casters yield some minor coins, which you add to a pile and a pair of daggers that are little more than kitchen knives. One, a shorter woman in her mid-30's is also carrying a scroll of what feels like vellum, marked with arcane writing you believe to be a minor incantation. You note the mark stamped into it, a white purifying flame with an eye above it. The symbol of the purifiers. Beyond these items and their now badly damaged clothing, the pair carry daggers that are little more than large kitchen knives. You lay these out. 

The badly burned thugs from upstairs similarly yield modest coinage from what's left of their pockets. Also in those pockets, you find wooden sigils about the size of your fist, stamped with a stylized feather. You place these below the bodies. Next to them, you put the mace and axe they were wielding, cringing slightly at the blood and gore that still coats both. Though not of remarkable craftsmanship, they are competently made and are true weapons, not merely improvised utensils or tools. 

Finally, you struggle to examine the large, heavily armored thug whom Joviar and Fodd confronted. The man's armor, which was of middling quality, is now largely beyond salvation except as scrap. The heavy blow from Joviar's maul has shattered chain links and simply broken many of the plates. The man's blade is a functional short sword, slick with Joviar's blood but otherwise serviceable, you place it at the man's feet while tossing a small pouch of coins you found on his pocket into the money pile. Far more interesting however is the man's shield, which is a mountain of iron and banded steel, easily taller than you are. Swearing under your breath, you lug it over into a clear space and turn it over, examining it with an experts eye.

Immediately, you are struck by its age (considerable) and that the vast amount of damage on its surface does not appear to have gone beyond the superficial. Peering at it closely, you can even still make out the stylized image of a building, perhaps a keep or tower, depicted as standing atop a rise or hill but titling forward as if about to collapse.  On the inside, burned deep into the padding above the two arm straps you find the words "Tower Fall." 

((Total Coins: 1g, 19s))