Crash and Burn

[Andre]

As the sailors leave, Myrfell voices his concern. "Are you sure it's safe to let them go?"

He shrugs, moving over the more pressing matter with a somewhat resentful attitude. "Nevermind. Let's move on, now we got to unload all this stuff on our own."

[ben-zayb]

After hearing Myrfell's complaints, Windborne just sighed and began unloading the goods. Suddenly, the cargo from the first boat started levitating. As if being guided by his invisible hands, it started moving towards the Veil Chariot. He spoke to the others as he was guiding the load:
"Truth be told, I actually have a bag that could've carried most of these stuff. Unfortunately I can't access it, as the bag resides with my nether being."
He then looked at the resident tinkerer Lilliana, wondering whether the elf had seen, or probably even crafted, one of those magical items, or her 'Greetings, I make magical items' catch-phrase was just for show.

Spoiler

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Based on the ledger, the partial load from the first boat shouldn't be greater than 300 lbs, which is my current load for Telekinesis.
Using sustained force until it reaches its destination, concentrating can be up to 12 rounds if needed.
EDIT: Oh, and about the ledger... Did we all saw what goods're written on it? Or was that just me?

[3SecondCultist]

Myrfell: Raisa meets your gaze, unflinching. She does not move until the last sailor has left, at which point she begins to motion to Kelf to begin unloading the boats. She stops, her face slack jawed, at seeing all of the goods from the first boat rise and set themselves down gently at her feet. She seems not to have heard Windborne, as you're the first person she looks at.
"How... how did... I've heard tales of great psychics, but that is amazing! Why didn't you speak up before? We could've used your powers back there."

Lilliana: As the crates arrive, Jace, not missing a beat, moves to open the double doors of the Veil Chariot. From the front, the illusory driver tips his hat mockingly, while his horses paw at the flagstone, breath misting convincingly in the crisp afternoon air. Jace, without saying a word, begins to load crates into the central space of the chariot and beckons for you to help him. The guard will arrive soon.

[RaggedAngel]

Lilliana thinks for a moment before sighing. "There's no way I'm going to be able to lift enough to help like this." She closes her eyes, chants a few words, and then a pattern of color and power flows over her. She grows a half-foot taller and bulges with muscle as hair flows over her body. After a moment she looks like a full-grown bugbear, and she begins to help Jace, grabbing crates and moving them with ease to the carriage. She works quickly, worried about anyone spotting her transfigured monstrous form.

Spoiler

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She uses Alter Self to turn into a Bugbear. The moment she spots anyone approaching she's going to cast Disguise Self to make herself appear like a generic human male, one of the fallen mercenaries if possible.

[3SecondCultist]

Lilliana: Between the combined intellect and strength of both you and Jace, you manage to load the entire haul from the first boat into the Veil Chariot without causing any trouble. However, there is not much space for any more crates, and Raisa seems more and more agitated by the second. Her face is locked in a mask of concentration. She appears to be counting under her breath. Finally, she calls out across the canal.
"Alright, we don't have time for anything else. Windborne, Myrfell, get over here! We need to leave, now!" She turns to Jace.
"You know what to do." The human hands you the last crate, smiling. He strides over to the dock, and extends one arm, pointing at the space directly between the two furthest boats. A glowing, pea sized bead suddenly streaks from his pointed digit, finally blossoming into a fiery projectile. When the afterglow fades, you can see the two crafts with mirror holes in their hulls, already taking on water. They won't last very long.

[RaggedAngel]

Lilliana nods and smiles. "That's what I was waiting for. Now then, no one make any extraneous sound or motion, and do not cast any spells unless you really, really have to." Her thick, hairy hands weave through a series of complicated gestures, and then a massive illusions sprigs up over all the assembled allies and their carriage. From the inside their view is uninhibited, but from outside of the illusion they appear to be an average, boring group of middle-aged gentlemen, politely chatting about the weather and politics. The illusionary men move into the carriage as their counterparts do, and the carriage itself is disguised to prevent it being recognized.

Spoiler

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Major Image, DC 19 if someone interacts with the illusion, which they shouldn't be able too.

[ben-zayb]

Once inside the chariot, and after hearing Lilli's cautious warnings, Windborne suggested, using his telepathic powers, an inspection of the crates.
Everyone: Would it be alright if we inspect the contents of the crates now? The sailors left me their ledger. And from what I read, aside from few armors, weapons, and some unidentified crystals, the crates consists mostly of husbandry and industry produce.

[3SecondCultist]

Windborne, Myrfell, Lilliana: As the last of you squeezes into the carriage, Raisa closes the doors. The vehicle begins moving instantly. Even from inside, the clopping of imaginary hooves on real stone can be clearly heard. After half a minute, the scene can barely be seen from the windows.
"Damn. I thought we'd have more time than that." Raisa shakes her head. "Let's get back to Point Zero, so we can count out the haul."

[Andre]

Myrfell salvages from amidst the pile of crates what is quickly becoming his favourite stool and takes position on it, looking at Windborne.
"As long as you don't leave a mess around."

[3SecondCultist]

Windborne, Lilliana, Myrfell: Raisa without turning her head, answers:
"We should wait until we get back. There's more room to count everything out there, and we should be focused on making sure nobody's following us." Even as she speaks, the carriage rolls swiftly along the rapidly filling streets. From inside the carriage, you can see throngs of merchants, buyers and sellers, both on stone and on the water. Up ahead, you can see a large, wooden pavilion that dominates an entire courtyard, complete with docks and many little stalls and shops. It appears that you have come across the Eagle's Bazaar, one of the commercial centers of Hadren's Court.

Brin: After spending about five minutes talking with these socialites, you have noted the balance of power. It appears that all of these elves are minor nobles, like yourself, and not a part of one of the six Great Houses. Loria, however, is using his rank in the military to assume a superior social position here. His posture, the way he speaks, and his eye contact all hint at authority, and a drive for further power.
"... and that is why House Indarin is going to have to trade at a loss in this quarter." Jin Seur has left the scene, but from the corner of your eye, you can see a larger party approaching. This one consists largely of guards and servants, with a pair of elves taking up the middle. They are making their way right towards the podium in the middle of the field.

[PollyOliver]

Brin listens to Loria's pronouncements with what she hopes is a suitable facial expression--mostly emotionless, with the occasional nod when it seems appropriate. She tries to catch the identities and interests of the others in the conversation when they can get a word in edgewise. For the most part she simply listens, until the larger party starts moving toward the podium.

Spoiler

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Can I recognize the pair in the middle? Knowledge nobility (1d20+18)[36]

[3SecondCultist]

Lilliana, Windborne, Myrfell: The Veil Chariot's progress is slowing down dramatically, the phantom steeds forced to stop for precious minutes, making way for the masses who are out enjoying the breezy afternoon. Standing at the windows, Raisa swears under her breath.
"We've gotta get out of here. The guardsmen will be conducting a sweep of the area, and we can't keep them fooled with illusions forever. We're either gonna have to find a way through, or find an alternate means of transport. Anyone got any ideas?"

Brin: As the pair get closer, you manage to get a better look at the pair of elves. The female is dressed in a contrasting bright blue and grey dress, with a very low cut in the front, with a mid-sized train behind. Apparently, she has paid very much for very little, as the dress seems built to emphasize both her rear and her cleavage. It looks loose enough to be made out of silk, but it is plain that she has tightened it where it counts. Normally, such a getup would be seen as offensive or promiscuous, but she manages to conjure up an aura of perceived naivete, as if she did not know exactly the effect her attire would have on her guests. Her skin is unblemished, a milky tone that contrasts beautifully with her hair, midnight tresses that end just below her bare shoulders. Her irises are another oddity, an alluring yellow-green hue. While the male standing beside her wears a very different ensemble, it is obvious to anyone with eyes to see that they are siblings. They have the same hair and eyes, and very similar facial structures. He is dressed in a military uniform similar to that worn by Loria, save for a few extra metals worn over his breast, and a pair brilliant silver epaulets, which have been crafted into stylized eagles. Behind him also trails a long, grey cloak which bears no distinctive features. Unlike his compatriot, his very presence commands attention. However, the stance is much more subtle than Loria's, insinuating that he is in control rather than bellowing it at full volume. He has also dispensed with the female's apparent ignorance, as his eyes continually scan the crowd, always searching for something. Your eyes meet. There is a moment, when you find yourself in a world filled with hard eyes of yellow-green. All sounds simply fade away, background static to his gaze. Time slows down, and you can feel yourself beginning to slip. The moment ends, however, as they all must, when a squat figure approaches him. Tapping him on the shoulder, he whispers something to the lord. All of a sudden, you can see one of the servants, standing on the podium, opening his mouth to address the growing crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the lady Tarmina Corvayne, and her brother, Captain Malyr Aeron Corvayne!"

[PollyOliver]

Brin eyes the female elf's dress and demeanor with well-veiled distaste, but does nothing except turn to keep the pair in view. When the male's eyes catch hers, though, it is all she can do not to shudder. A thin line of cold creeps up her spine, and she feels...transfixed. Valanthe Sinnodel starts to slip away, all the intricacies of mannerism and accent and posture fading, until....

Brin takes a slow breath when he finally looks away, still feeling rooted to the spot, and carefully puts Valanthe back together in her head. How had he done that? Magic? Just a strong will? Or a weak one on her part? She resists the urge to hug her arms close to her chest and tries to focus. Every mission she ever ran had been in and out, and that was it. Not so much, this time. For some reason it hadn't been clear until just now.

You did know you were in over your head, she thinks to herself. Just not how far.

She finishes pulling the character back together, wrapping herself in every fragment she remembers about House Sinnodel, and glances sideways to see how the others have reacted to the pair--or if they've noticed anything wrong. Then she carefully looks back up to the podium, steeling herself in case Malyr looks her way again.

[3SecondCultist]

Brin: The group seems to have separated by the time they reach the podium. The stone podium seems to only fit one, so the lady takes her place on it, overlooking the throngs of socialites and pedants below. Her brother stands behind her, still watching for any signs of unusual activity, it seems. After several seconds of waiting for silence, Tarmina Corvayne begins to speak.
"Good afternoon, and thank you for the warm introduction. As I'm sure you are all aware, the proceeds of tonight's reception and silent auction are going to the Simik Recruitment Fund, in order to facilitate the upcoming Marshal Bill. We believe in a Brelan free of compromise, free of oppression, and free of spirit. The House of Corvayne thanks you for your generous contributions to our cause. We will begin the bidding in an hour's time, at which point the other guests will arrive." A smattering of polite applause echoes through the park, and she steps down from the stone plinth. Introductions and transparent smiles are abound as Tarmina slowly begins to make her way around the lawn. Aeron, on the other hand, heads straight for Loria. Shaking his hand warmly, the two walk off to your right, seeking some privacy in the shadow of an elm.

[Andre]

The Knight-Tribune stands up with an heavy shrug, and moves Raisa out of the way so that he can look outside the window. The view isn't exactly optimal, and as much as he attempts to gain more awareness of the surroundings, his gaze keeps being drawn with persistance to the dominant element of the plaza, the grand pavillion.

"I wouldn't know. We could always set the pavillion on fire, though. Not gonna help us move any faster, but it will give the city guards something else to think of at least."

Spoiler

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Uh... a more detailed description of the courtyard as seen by Myrfell?

[3SecondCultist]

Myrfell: From where you stand, you can see most of the marketplace. The plaza itself takes up an entire courtyard of stone, which looks to be roughly one hundred square yards. If you can find a way to continue in a straight line, you will pass the pavilion without having to traverse through the most crowded sections of the Eagle's Bazaar. Even at the outermost edge, however, your way is blocked by hubbub and congestion. The chariot stands at the easternmost side of the plaza, blocked by three stalls (a fruit stall, what looks like a mobile lending library, and a meat stall) and a pair of wagons, as well as dozens of pedestrians. Setting fire to the pavilion will indeed distract many of the civilians, but the stalls will remain.

[Andre]

Heavy silence fills the Veil Chariot while Myrfell scans the courtyard from the window, and the longer it lingers, the more it becomes awkward.

"No objections, then." he quips prior to forwarding what he did see to his companions turned tight-lipped.

"There are some stalls and a few wagons on our way, but we can handle that with telekinesis. Once we have cleared the way, we can move the Chariot ahead, and set the pavillion on fire to cover our escape. Now, anyone got a torch or something like that?"

[3SecondCultist]

Windborne, Myrfell, Lilliana: Kelf reaches into one of the crates, rummaging around for a minute or so, before handing you a makeshift torch.
"Make it count, aye?" He grins.

[RaggedAngel]

Lilliana takes a deep breath, then nods. "My major image can take up a larger space than our cart actually occupies. I can project the image of a cart surrounded by nothing but normal crowds while we open the doors and move around it. Anyone inside of the illusion will be able to see and interact with you normally, but from afar it will look like absolutely nothing is happening. It will, however, take unerring concentration on my part." She looks around. "All I'm saying is, don't let anyone stab me."

[Andre]

Myrfell grabs the torch and fastens it to his belt, ready for action.

He turns to Lilliana, appearing slightly puzzled. "I... guess. Whatever. Windborne, you're with me."

[ben-zayb]

Windborne quickly followed Myrfell, in his mind very unsure if this plan will work.
My power at this magnitude? Hmm...hopefully it will work...
Nonetheless, he readied himself, carefully selecting his unmoving targets. He looks for the less crowded parts of the area, the one that offers the least resistance to his power.
"Let's get this thing going, Myrfell. At your signal."

Spoiler

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Assuming my check isn't guided by the power of plot...
Spot: (1d20+23)[32]

[PollyOliver]

Trying to keep the pair of soldiers in her peripheral vision, Brin slowly moves over to the group around Tarmina, trying to take stock of any conversations happening there.

[3SecondCultist]

Windborne: From where you stand, you can see the majority of foot traffic throughout the square. Most of the people here are elves, humans, and half elves, a common enough occurrence here in the capital. Apparently, this is one of the more lower class markets, as little can be seen of opulence in the vendors or the consumers. The stalls are simple goods, basic tools and food. Guard prescence within the bazaar itself is minimal, but you can see checkpoints at most of the exits and entrances to the courtyard,each complete with a full squad of guardsmen. Under the central pavilion is a raised wooden platform, upon which is a little kiosk, sporting livery of crossed, golden keys on a black background. A human and an elf stand behind it, talking to passers by and signing papers. It appears that Carnes & Wright is already making itself known.

Brin: As you move into the cacophony, you find yourself slowly enveloped with sycophantic praise and lovesick sighs. It seems that Tarmina is well liked among this crowd. Eventually, the inevitable happens, and the heiress catches your gaze. Eyeing you up and down, she seems to take mental note of your posture, your attire, and your composure. Then, after a moment of cross examination, she thrusts through the adulating masses until the heady scent of floral perfume assaults your nostrils.
"Good afternoon, my dear. It is such a shame that you and I have never met, for truly you are a lovely creature. From where do you hail?"

[Andre]

"Good. Then proceed with your... illusion." hints Myrfell at Lilliana.

He awaits for response from her prior to getting out the Veil Chariot and seeking shelter and concealment among her illusory crowd; with some luck, it may prove convincing enough to fool prying eyes as he focuses his psionic power on the closest of the stalls currently blocking the way.

Spoiler

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Now, with 7/8 PP Myrfell can lift up up to 300/325 pounds, I am assuming that's about enough since stalls should be empty objects rather than being closed and loaded items like the crates.

[3SecondCultist]

Myrfell: After you have received your confirmation from your companion, you know you're good to go. The crate in front of you begins to shake violently, before being thrust away. Several exotic looking fruit have scattered on the street, viscous juice staining the flagstone. The way out of the square is nearly clear now, a squad of guards the final obstacle to your escape.

[ben-zayb]

After seeing the stalls suddenly getting thrown out of the chariot's way, Windborne begins his own assault on the sentries.

Spoiler

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DC 25 300lbs-limit Telekinesis. That should be able to throw a guard (or more) 100ft in the air.

[Andre]

With the obstacles out of the way, Myrfell signals briefly the people inside the Chariot to advance. He pulls the torch out of his belt, looking around for a nearby brazier or whatever handy source of fire.