Unless you have further business with Thornwell, the party is escorted back outside the walls of Thornwell Tower, that pinnacle of black and red marble that towers over the rest of the Styes.

It is mid-afternoon, but the haze in the air makes it feel like early evening. It is hot, humid, and the brownish air blowing off the harbor makes your lungs ache and your eyes water. The High Quarter is quiet, with only the occasional militia patrol passing, glancing at you with guarded suspicion. 

Only a few of the buildings here are still in operation; they appear to be, or have once been, municipal offices of some kind. All the rest are either deserted or have signs of private occupation and general decay. The streets and boardwalks are mostly empty, in stark contrast to the crowds that frequent the other quarters you have visited in the Styes.

You discuss your options, at length.  Now, where to?

Thwack 

Thwack's eyes glisten as the stench of the harbour blows across his face. "Me really no like this place anymore. Stink worst than troll lair." He wipes his face, a brownish scum left on his hands from doing so. "But me promise to help Kerry. He help me from island so I gonna help him find friend. Hope it doesn't take long though, then we can leave stinky place."

Qivys sits with the group and wipes his brow.
"Do ya think it's wise ta go our separate ways ina place that is as dark as this one?" he asks the group. "I'll abide by what ya say but, it puts us at more of a risk, not only cause of all tha killin' going on, but also us bein' outsiders in such a place." 

Gerrard:

Sighing, Gerrard says, "You have a good point, Master Qivys.  Though I am loathe to leave the undead menace personally unaddressed, at least the Styes navy is alerted to it."

"Very, well, lead on and I will try to not get too much in the way on your stealth mission.  Tell me what you need me to do, Master Fenwader," the young noble adds.

It is still mid-afternoon. A foul, fog-like haze has gathered over the inner harbor.

Unless you have other business in the High Quarter, you begin to make your way back toward the broad, grimy bridge connecting this neighborhood back to the Alchemists’ Quarter.

A group of about eight or nine militia guards rush past you toward the bridge, clearly on urgent business. "Cultists," you hear one of them exclaim in an otherwise inaudible conversation as they pass.

Gerrard:

”Ah, an opportunity,” says Gerrard.  Jogging to catch up with the militia, Gerrard looks for one he may have talked to the previous day, offering, “I’d be glad to offer my blade to help if you like.”

Thwack 

Perplexed, Thwack turns to Peri. "Thwack always told he gets in trouble. Why Bernard go looking for troubles? Him try to find problems so he can fix 'em?" Without waiting for a response he runs after Gerrard. "We look for cultists on way to find keys? What's cultists?"

The militia seems to mainly consist of teenagers, none of whom seem familiar to Gerrard. A middle-aged woman appears to be their captain. She looks Gerrard up and down suspiciously as she rushes toward the bridge with the others, their blades drawn, and then glances back at Thwack. "Who are you?" she asks. "You want to help? Keep the crowd away. Don't try to follow us in." 

Their destination appears to be a lopsided two-story windowless building a few doors from the far side of the bridge, at the edge of the Alchemists' Quarter. A blackened door has been blasted open from the inside, and yellow fumes billow from it. "Keep that out of your lungs!" she shouts at her comrades as they prepare to enter the lightless, haze-filled building. A handful of locals have gathered to watch.

Gerrard:

Spreading his hands and allowing his signet ring to be viewed, Gerrard says, “Oh, I am just a concerned citizen with a modicum of combat experience willing to help out the militia at need.  Call out if you need help.”

Persuasion:   25

”Oh, my, that smoke is quite pungent,” he adds, pulling out his Wind Fan and summoning a breeze to clear the air for the militia’s entry.

Qivys moves to follow Gerrard and Thwack.
"Running head first into the dragon's mouth!" he says. 

Ben's small fan produces a torrent of air, flowing into the decrepit building. The yellow gas is dispersed from the main entrance, which appears to lead immediately to a staircase down, with open interior doors on either side leading to blackened rooms. But the trapped gas is instead pushed out of small vents, cracks, some sort of back entrance, and a small single window upstairs. The small crowd backs up nervously as plumes of vapor jet out of surprise apertures. You hear hacking and coughing from the back alley as someone evidently became enveloped in the escaping vapor behind the small building.

The militia guards cover their noses and mouths with their cloaks and run inside, the bulk of them down toward the basement, their blades drawn. "Don't let 'em escape!" shouts the captain.

Gerrard:

”I’ll keep clearing the air,” says Gerrard, “Anyone want to go around and cover the back?”

Gerrard focuses the air into the building trying to avoid blowing any militia over but purging the noxious fumes.

Gerrard continues to force a river of arcane air into the front door of the old building, as choking yellow fumes continue to jet out of every crack and hole. The bulk of the militia has disappeared down the staircase within, where the sounds of shouting and fighting have begun to erupt. The crowd has grown to maybe a dozen onlookers.

The back of the building appears to be most easily accessed through a very narrow alley on the right side of the lopsided building. Perhaps fifty feet long, it descends with a steady slope, and is barely 18 inches wide (widening to a few feet across at the height of the second floor.) The left side of the building directly adjoins another industrial-looking building, and lacks an alley between.

(Who's going down the alley? Who's staying with Gerrard?)

Qivys waits to see how it sorts out.
"Going inta that mess an' ya liable ta get a blade in yer gizzard." he comments. "It's probable best ta let the militia sort it out in there." 
Qivys nods as he makes his statement. 

Thwack 

Like a soldier responding to his commanders suggestion Thwack scurries to the alleyway. "Snarf! You no gonna fit Bernard! Me fits though." With his last word he slips down the side of the building. He watches his footing as he goes as to not slip or tread on any nasty critter.

Perception 14

((Assuming a 2ft kobold is thin enough to squeeze through the 18" wide gap))

(Thwack can easily navigate the narrow alley. Medium-size folks can, too, although for them it'll be Difficult Terrain, and melee attacks are at Disadvantage.)

Peri:

Peri eyes the scene with skepticism. "We don't know these people, or the people they're after, or what's goin' on. I say it's none of our business. You wanna clear the smoke, fine. But I'm just gonna..." Just as he's about to suggest sitting this one out, he sees Thwack charge with reckless enthusiasm into the alley. Figuring the kobold is in as much danger from the militia as he is from the "cultists," Peri groans and heads off after him.

Peri and Thwack carefully make their way down the narrow, foul-smelling alley, avoiding (as best they can) the jets of eye-watering yellow vapor escaping cracks in the sagging old building. As they turn the corner at the back of the building, they find an old man in distress, coughing and hacking, surrounded by a group of children trying to assist him. A stained old dock can be seen behind them over the inner harbor, covered in crates and barrels. 

Gerrard, Boko,and Qivys remain in the front of the building on the street. Gerrard continues to push the wall of vapor back, keeping the main entry and basement stairs clear.

The sounds of combat below increase, then turn to screams and cries of terror.

Suddenly, boiling up the stairs into the brunt of the arcane wind, Gerrard and Boko see a horde of a half-dozen baboon-like creatures with bright yellow fur bounding up the stairs.
They fight against the river of air as they recklessly try to escape to the street.

DC13 STR Saves or be pushed back down the stairs 15 feet:
baboon-like thing #1: 23
baboon-like thing #2: 16
baboon-like thing #3: 16
baboon-like thing #4: 9
baboon-like thing #5: 22
baboon-like thing #6: 15

They charge with wild malice in their eyes, intent on rending your party and the nearby crowd to ribbons with their bare claws.

Roll initiative!
(Baboon things: 18) 

Qivys' initiative roll: 17

Gerrard's Initiative:  18

(Wind Fan DC is 13)