(Pathfinder) The Curse of the Crimson Throne IC

[RocketMan]

Jensi

"Vancaskerkin," Jensi says quietly, wide and frightened eyes still fixed on the hellknights. "What did you do with the gold they gave you? We don't, err, want the hellknights to get it, so do you know where it is now?"

[Leviathan]

The Hellknight captain scoffs at your attempts to persuade him. "I have asked you for a reason not to kill you where you stand, and I receive arrogant demands!"

Vancaskerkin meanwhile hisses to Jensi: "It's in my boots, mate." He gives a grim look. "Though it doesn't look like it'll matter much, eh? Enemies all around, just the two of us."

The Hellknight raises his eyebrows at this rather obvious whispered conversation. "Are you really that idiotic to conspire openly?" He raises a fist and his men close in around you. "I will take you to the Citadel, traitors, at which point I expect you will be formally arrested. I will then ensure that the short span of miserable life left to you is filled with as much pain as the law allows for."

[Drothmal]

The duelist does not reply to the Hellknight captain, knowing it to be a futile attempt. He keeps his hands away from his sword, as to avoid any "misunderstandings" and will follow the party and the Hellknights back to the Citadel without raising any trouble

[Blisstake]

Aldrin snorts at the Hellknight's response and then replies, "Fine then. Take us to Kroft if you insist on trying to aprehend a group actually trying to restore order here."

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan puts his hand on Aldrin's shoulder and shakes his head, his meaning clear. Don't antagonize the heavily armed, angry and generally murderous hellknights. "Thank you, Hellknight. We appreciate the escort. Marshal Croft will clear the matter, I am sure."

[SanguinePenguin]

Atavian had kept quiet for a while, but once it was decreed that they would be escorted to the Citadel, he had to make his voice be heard. He spoke up, sheepishly, with the intent of sending the hellknights on to other pressing matters (like the riots), "good Sir Hellknight, I apologize if we have come across as rude. There is no conspiracy here. I have no qualms having you bring us to the Citadel, as we've said, it's precisely where we are headed. Still, this city is still in chaos," he paused to bask in the sounds for an instant, "the streets need uniforms to keep order. I normally would never argue with you, but, right now, I'm terribly worried about my city. I would hate that so many knights on the side of restoring order be wasted on escorting us back there. If you truly view us as such a threat, then I understand, but do consider that we are not actively looting and burning the city, while others are. At the least, for the sake of the city, I beg you please only waste as many guards on this task as you are certain are sufficient to keep us in line."

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Diplomacy: (1d20+4)[17]

Sorry for being so late to this...

[Leviathan]

The Hellknight captain frowns, but considers Atavian's words. "Very well. Surrender your prisoner to me and you can be on your way." He clenches his hand. "But understand that this city has been shut. No one will leave. So if you lie, I will find you and crush you like insects."

He waves his hand and nods at his men, who silently withdraw back a few feet, still in lock-step with each other. He folds his arms impatiently, waiting to receive Vancaskerkin.

The deserter pleads with Jensi. "Look, don't send me with these guys; they'll kill me! I'd rather be with these murderers -" he waves his hands at the rest of the party "- than with them!"

[RocketMan]

Jensi

"They're not murderers!" Jensi protests. "They're my friends, and they only killed yours because they were doing bad things." Turning to the Hellknights, he continues. "They were doing bad things, but Cressida wants us to bring them to her. If you were nice, you could come with us and see, but it's really important that we bring this man to her."

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Diplomacy: (1d20+10)[28] (+1 if charming trait applies)

[Leviathan]

The Hellknight captain's face is inscrutable as Jensi pleads his case. He seems frustrated, however, that the sounds of rioting continue as he wastes time here. "This talk is a waste of valuable time that cannot be wasted in these circumstances." The look of anger on his face suggests that he is going to have you killed, but instead he barks out an order.
"Hellknight Gidhon, take four armigers and provide an escort. Ensure that they reach the Citadel, then report back to myself."

He gives you a last glare as a squat, dwarven hellknight marches forwards. His armour conceals all, leaving him golem-like beneath layers of jagged grey plate-mail. "Move out," he growls in a deep voice, as four armigers fall in beside him.

-------------------------

It is only an hour or two from dawn and not far to the Citadel when you come to an intersection. Several of the larger, better-maintained houses are burning, a rubble is strewn across the street. A fallen guard leans against one of the oil-lamps that would normal light the street. His eyes are shut, and his tabard is stained with blood.

A neigh splits the air, and a horse - its rider just barely holding on - bolts around the corner into the intersection. The man on its back is clad in sky-blue finery which is torn in several places, and his curly brown hair is blowing. At its high speed, the horse stumbles on the rubble, collapsing to the ground. Its leg is obviously broken, and it is neighing and rolling its eyes in panic.

Its former rider, unharmed, is just as panicked. He looks up in the direction from which he has come, and then frantically begins to scramble across the rubble in the opposite direction.

He does not get far. A mob of dishevelled men and a few women armed with everything from shovels and picks to clubs and a few swords charges towards him, roaring with anger. "Die, dandy!" a man yells in rage. "Death to the whore-queen!" shouts another.

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan quickly darts ahead of the group, though he carefully refrains from drawing his weapon or otherwise antagonizing the Hellknights. As he dashes towards the fleeing man and the angry mob pursuing him, Dastan shouts, "Stop! You will gain naught but misery and dishonor from hurting this man! Please, if you value your lives and livelihoods you should return to your homes." The Paladin will do everything he can to interpose himself between the mob and their intended victim, though his heavy armour may slow him down enough to prevent that.

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Diplomacy to try and get the mob to rething hurting the fleeing noble:
(1d20+10)[29]

[Drothmal]

Seeing the paladin react to the mob, Rennard instead moves towards the fallen guard, trying to ascertain if he is still alive. The duelist follows Dastan's example and keeps Reve sheathed, but he will move without any fear of the Hellknights, clearly not intimidated by their presence

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Rennard will try to determine if the man is alive or dead. If he's still alive, he'll ask for Jensi's help. I am not sure what to roll, so I'll roll a Heal Check, but please use the roll with the appropriate check if I'm wrong

Heal - (1d20-1)[19]

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Jensi can feel his heart pounding in his chest as the lynch-mob closes in around the rider. Without thinking, the youth dashes forwards, moving to the side of the mob's intended victim. "Are you hurt?" he whispers. He hopes the crowd will stay away, but Jensi's clearly more concerned about the man than about his own safety.

[Leviathan]

Dastan's timely intercession stops the mob in its tracks. The multitude of grubby people turns as one, confused and angry eyes fixing on the paladin. A portly man with bushy, greying mutton-chops and a stained leather apron worn over workman's clothes steps forwards. "We want justice! Them nobles been bleedin' us all dry for years! The Queen too!" He spits on the ground. "Someone's gotta pay for it!"

Dastan hears a clanking sound from behind. The Hellknights have moved up beside him, weapons drawn. Hellknight Gidhon holds a wickedly spiked flail, while his subordinates each move into position with razor-bladed halberds. "Prepare to charge," Gidhon threatens, and his men present the points of their polearms to the crowd. The mob starts to back away, but angry cries rise up again, and some people are clattering weapons.

Rennard kneels by the fallen guard, quickly determining that the man is not quite dead. He has received a severe strike from some blunt object that has shattered his ribs, but he's barely breathing. He is also, the duelist realizes, familiar to the party: it's the same guard sergeant who first directed them to the Field Marshal, Verick Soldado.

Jensi races over to the fallen rider. The man is bruised, but standing. He is shaken, but begins to limp towards the Hellknights, clearly deeming them his best defence right now.

[Drothmal]

Jensi! This man is still alive! Do you have any healing spells left? the fencer cries in a louder voice that you have ever heard him so far

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If Jensi is out of spells or he cannot hear Rennard over the noise, he will use a CLW potion that he carries on him
CLW - (1d8)[7]

Seeing the Hellknights' preparations to charge at the mob, the magus starts to scan the area for any object that he could ignite with his magic in order to provide a distraction and give his companions more time to negotiate

[Leviathan]

Rennard

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There are plenty of flammable objects, most of them houses or lamp-posts. However, as many are already burning, another fire might not draw much attention.

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan glances sideways at Rennard's shout; he had saved the last of his own healing energy for just such an occasion, but the citizens in the mob are a far more pressing concern, so he forces his attention away from the wounded watchman. Keep him alive for a few minutes, Rennard. I can save him then... He thinks to himself, as e steps out ahead of the Hellknights, hoping to distinguish himself from them in the eyes of the mob, then holds up his hands. "It may be that you have suffered at the hands of the nobility, but look around you." He gestures with his right hand, encompassing the rubble in the streets and the fires burning in the distance. "Whose houses are burning? Whose shops are being looted? Yours, and those of your neighbors. This was a festival, a day of celebration and revelry, and instead the city has become a slaughterhouse. Go home to your loved ones, please. They need your protection far more than the nobility could ever deserve your ire. All you will find in the streets tonight is ruin and pain." He does his best to ignore the Hellknights at his back, knowing that if they decide to charge whatever words he might have will be pointless.

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Um... Another Diplomacy test, I guess? I really hope that the Hellknights don't do something Lawful Stupid and Hellknightish... There's nothing I can do to stop them if they do, since I promised not to harm them.

Diplomacy: (1d20+10)[20]

[SanguinePenguin]

Atavian shouts, but does not move to the paladin's side, "yes! Please disperse! Neither side of this conflict has any merit! If the nobility is the problem killing one of them now will gain nothing. Please go to your homes, protect your families before your property becomes a casualty of these riots. Or worse these knights kill you in the name of order! Please!" He then turns to the knights and adds, "attacking them will only propagate chaos, please let them go home." His voice is pleading. He knows that that more death here will only lead to more chaos.

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Diplomancy: (1d20+4)[23] Edit: Yes!! I knew I due for a decent roll!

[Leviathan]

The crowd, already made unsure by Dastan's earlier intervention, now begins to disperse as the paladin and Atavian urge them on. The man with the sideburns grumbles a bit, but looks ashamed, as do many of the others. A few hard-liners remain, but quickly size up their odds against the Hellknights and slink off moments later.

Hellknight Gidhon shouts out an "at ease!", and his men snap to what seems to be a very uneasy attention. He plods his way over to you, removing his greathelm. His face is sweaty and scarred in multiple places - across the bridge of his nose, from his cheekbone to his mouth, and across his forehead. A trim black beard forms a point just below his chin, and his head is almost bald. "Your intervention is noted. If you are traitors, your death might now have some small honour behind it." He speaks gruffly, and in a monotone.

As Rennard tips his potion into the wounded Sergeant Soldado's mouth, the man gasps and awakens, though he still seems weak. "Ughh, damn it! ...They got me... Never expected to get out of that one." He looks around at his saviours. "So thanks for that. Guess you weren't lying about wanting to help."

[Drothmal]

Rennard helps the wounded man back to his feet and responds

No we were not. Sergeant Soldado, though I am not prone to ask for favors in return for my help, we are in need of your services. Could you spare some of your time and accompany us to the citadel? We are under orders from Field Marshall Croft and your presence could expedite our return to her and avoid... unpleasant misunderstandings the magus says, his eyes darting quickly to where the party's escort stands

[SanguinePenguin]

"Soldado, where are the rest of your men?" Atavian asks concerned.

[Blisstake]

Aldrin adds, "And do you have the authority to tell these Hellknights to piss off? Because I'd rather not have to bring this up with Kroft."

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan nods to the Hellknight, acknowledging the poor compliment, then quickly turns around and heads back down the pile of rubble to where Soldado is. Finally, someone sees sense... There has been too much bloodshed today already. He nods at Atavian's question. "Yes, where are the rest of your men? If they're injured, we need to help them before we return to the Citadel."

[Leviathan]

Sergeant Soldado grimaces. "I'll gladly follow you back to the Citadel; even with my wounds healed, I'm not in good shape to do any more. As for my men... We got separated in the rioting. I can only hope they're alright."

The guardsman starts to speak further, but Hellknight Gidhon interrupts. "He has no authority over any of our Order, and treason allows for unwitting accomplices. Therefore we will not be moved."

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If you have nothing further to say, let me know here or in OOC and I'll move us along.

[King Tius]

Kalinda
During the interaction with the Hellknights she young gunslinger keeps her head down and doesn't speak, having had her fair share of run ins with Hellknights and guards during her years as a street rat. During the mob scene she draws a pistol and hangs back. Now that the tension is lightening, she walks over to the wounded horse and prepares to shoot it. Unless someone (such as the noble) objects, she ends the poor things suffering.

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Jensi watches the hellknights with curiosity, before turning to the noble. The youth looks at him quizzically, trying to see if he's alright.

"What's your name?" Jensi asks, trying to be polite. "Why did those people want to hurt you - did you do something bad? If you didn't, maybe you should come with us to the Citadel. It wouldn't be good if you left and got into trouble again, right?"

[Leviathan]

The noble brushes himself off, looking somewhat disdainfully at Jensi. "Amin Jalento, and no, Varisian, I did not do 'something bad.' I was accosted by a band of ruffians who suffer under the misconception that our Queen is less than she ought to be. Now I would like nothing more than to be on my way to the safety of a hot bath and silk sheets. So yes, I shall accompany you."

There is a bang as Kalinda puts down the wounded horse. Amin shakes his head. "Such a pity..."

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The strange band - Hellknights, nobleman, deserter, wounded guardsman, and would-be heroes - finally arrive at the Citadel. The courtyard through which you've already travelled is littered with wounded guards lying on stretchers, being tended to by weary priests bearing the scales of Abadar.

Judging by the far larger number of prisoners being marched at spear-point into the holding cells, though, the riots are being dealt with, however.

Sergeant Verick Soldado bids you farewell. "Thanks, friends. I owe you my life, and I don't toss words like that around every day. If there's anything I can do for you, well, I'm in your debts."

So too does Amin Jalento. "Unfortunately, I have none of my assets presently available, but I am suitably grateful for the service you've performed. You will find my manor house in the Heights; report yourselves to by butler there after these dreadful riots end and I'll see to it that you're properly rewarded."

Hellknight Gidhon and his men stubbornly refuse all orders to leave made by the tired lieutenant who arrives to bring you to the Field Marshal. The poor man finally relents, and the knights follow you silently through to Kroft's office. Gidhon darkly gestures for his men to keep you all in place, then steps into the office. The door is heavy oak, and yet still Cressida Kroft's shouting can be heard. "...How dare you! Your pig-headed 'duty' can go straight to the Hells you admire! There's a bloody uprising at hand and you march in here and waste everyone's time because you've arrested the only people who're getting things done around here! Get out. Get out and do what you're here to do, damn you!"

The door opens, and Hellknight Gidhon stiffly marches out. His face betrays only a hint of chastised shock. He salutes you. "I will convey my report to my superiors. You will be cleared of all charges. I am personally regretful that our paths crossed under such circumstances." His hand clenches into a fist, going to his chest by way of farewell. "Be strong as iron. The strong are always needed, and iron must never bend." He and his men march off.

"Enter," Kroft calls from the doorway.

She sits at her desk, her brow furrowed. "I've only heard bits and pieces, but from the sounds of it, you did damned well. A full report, if you please?"

[SanguinePenguin]

Atavian speaks up, "well, ma'am... we initially attempted to gather information discreetly by posing as beggars... the door guard was rather insistent that we leave and tossed a slab of rancid meat to me. We could see a sawing motion from one of the guards further into the butcher's shop. His behavior was very suspicious and he was clearly lying about his motives. More direct methods seemed necessary.

Tallox and I climbed onto the roof and accessed the holding pens through there. The others entered through the main door. They were attacked on sight. We quickly dispatched the deserters located there. A search of the premisses revealed a humanoid corpse - butchered into slabs. We fear it was distributed to the beggars.

We found a grate which we followed into a courtyard containing our prisoner, another guard, a huge dog and a mysterious man. This mysterious man used two scrolls - one of invisibility and one of spider climbing to aid his escape. We attempted to pursue him, but failed. My apologies, Field Marshall. I regret that we did not catch him."

[Blisstake]

Aldrin laughs upon hearing the Field Marshall's shouting. He can't help but smirk at Gidhon as he exits Kroft's office. "Ah, to hear such sweet words. I think I'm in love," Aldrin jokes as they enter her office.

As Atavian finishes his report, Aldrin makes sure to add, "But we did manage to bring one back with us, ma'am. I imagine your interrogators shall have a fruitful experience with him."

[DaedalusMkV]

As the Hellknight troop marches away, the Paladin lets out a sigh of relief. "Iomedae forfend, I believe that's the most civil the Hellknights have ever been to me. Their arrogance will be their downfall some day, I suspect, though I cannot fault their determination." He quickly walks through the door at Kroft's command.

Dastan bows respectfully in greeting to the Field Marshall, his gaunleted hands coming together in front of his chest with fingers splayed in a stylized imitation of his patron's starburst heraldry. He opens his mouth to relay the events of their mission, but stops when Atavian launches into his own summary. He waits calmly as Atavian and Aldrin make their comments, then begins to speak. "Our prisoner is the leader of the deserters, a Captain Vancaskerkin. Unfortunately, the rest of his subbordinates resisted us to the end. We were unable to take them alive. When under the effect of a magical compulsion, the prisoner alluded to being hired by a third party to dispose of humanoid corpses, and strongly implied that they were doing so by distributing them to the city's beggars." His mouth twists into a scowl at this thought. "The deserters all seemed quite certain of their own guilt, and expressed a preference for death at our hands over the punishment they would receive for their crimes. We left the butcher's shop itself mostly as it was, and the fallen where they lay, should you wish to send your own men to investigate." Finally finished detailing the events he felt Aldrin's story had omitted, he nods again and allows the others to make any comments they might have.

[Drothmal]

Rennard remains silent while the others retell the latest events. The fencer's mind is restless: He cannot stop berating himself for not being able to stop that masked man

If only I had been swifter with my blade... the duelist thinks Who was that man? And who was the victim?

Noticing that Dastan has paused to let anyone else interject, the magus takes a step forwards and asks the Field Marshal

Ma'am, I would like to request information on your spellcasting assets. Do you have anyone under your command that can either scry or speak with the spirits of the departed? The first one could help us locate the masked man, while the second might be able to tell us who the victim was.

Rennard decides not to mention the urgency of the matter for now. He did not want to seem paranoid, but he certainly was worried that whoever was behind this would do whatever it took to cover their tracks