After Christmas Event

Waking up in the sewers

Your entire body aches, never before have you felt such an all-encompassing body pain. You rise up on your elbows and look around,  finding yourself in a dry room,  but undoubtly in the sewers,  laying on a stained matress. You see your other companions,  laying on similar mattresses,  their bodies stripped of most of their clothing, lain beside them,  and wrapped in bandages and poultices. Several ratfolk scurry across the room,  a pair of ratfolk closet to you are moving in bundles of straw,  one has a severe limp caused by a club foot,  while the other appears to have an unsightly growth of a tumor along the left side of his face, and eye. 

"Ahh,  you awaken. Sorry if we disturbed your recovery,  good lords. We moved as quietly as we could. Should we fetch Kubi with you? She is busy with preparations,  but I'm certain she'll make time for you."

Kubi arrives, looking a bit less meek than when you first met her in the alleyway of The Little Uskwood. 

"Strange timing you have - on the eve we plan to make good on our promise to aid you,  you crash down into our warrens,  and we have to pull you from the rubble and out of death's grasp. Strange timing indeed. I apologize for your friend of orcish descent, he did not survive the collapse. The injuries to his body were...incompatible with life."

"The swarm moon waxes full, and our power rises to a full crescendo. With no enemies in our home, we would turn our wrath on this Glorious Reclamation, as they would confine us to the sewers. Our time is short, but I beg for you to share with me the cause of the sword towers collapse on your group."

"A remarkable tale for remarkable people. Not to be dismissive,  but we have only a few hours before dawn, and much to do. In a few minutes, our lesser kin will emerge topside in massive swarns to steal away food, destroy property,  and terrorize the citizens of Kantaria. We will do no more permanent damage than absolute neccesary, but they must be reminded that the ratfolk are not to be slighted so severely. Should you find yourself able to recover,  you may find this an opportune time to free the loyalist from the prison camp. We can provide safe access into the area where the humans are being held prisoners.
Naikopolus Manor should also be accessible with many fewer guards. The Mage who resides there has put numerous magical wards up, and will surely be aware of your arrival.

Beneath Hardship's Hearth

Nikki the Hood

"This way, and please move swiftly. There is much vengeance to be had above, and I would hate to miss out on my chance at fun. Nevermind the Otyugh's you may see - they work for us and will not harm anyone they know to be our allies."

"That hole leads to the privies of the structures that the prisoners are kept in. You'll have to break through the wooden shittersitters to get in there. I'll wait for one hour, and not a moment longer for you to do whatever it is you have to do, but then I must leave with or without you. Make it back in time, and I can lead you to the Narikopolus manor."

Inside, you find a mass of prisoners
(40 Soldiers, 30 Thrune Loyalists, The five Carrows (Amycus, the father and former soldier, Alecto the Mother and trained fencer, Bernard, the youngest morningstar wielding magus, Ralphio, the crossbowman and middle brother, and Hectate, the serious and stern older brother and warpriest of Asmodeus.
Amycus steps forward, "We knew you'd make it here - somehow. We've been kept in the dark these last few weeks, but we knew that unless you were leading an army, there was no way for you, or for us, to deal with the sheer number of guards they had in place here. Over the last few days though, guards have been being pulled out of the camp, and tonight, the place is scarcely guarded. We've heard lots of screaming coming from outside the walls - I guess you had something to do with that?"

The main defenses we'll have to deal with are the four towers. They usually keep three bowmen in there, but cut down to two recently. I do not know how many are in there for certain. Unless they had good reason, the warden, a monk named Jalila with tatooed skin will be on the grounds, accompanied by two angels with the heads of mutts.She rarely goes anywhere without them. Any other guards will probably be sleeping or on foot in the yard. We have 40 soldiers here, 15 who we have armed. The rest will have to make do with rocks and whatever else we have laying around. The nobles and other loyalists won't be much use, but every fist helps. 

Jalila HadjaraHP:???
AC:25 (+2 Natural, +4 Wisdom, +4 Dodge, +1 Dodge, +1 Insight, +3 Boss)

F:+10 W:+11 R:LOL

Unarmed Strike (+11)1D10+3
F.O.B. +10/+10/+6/+6Stunning Fist: 6 times daily, DC 16

Archon Style: This grants any adjacent allies a +2 dodge bonus to AC against that opponent’s next melee attack (as long as that attack comes before the beginning of your next turn). The dodge bonus persists even if your allies move away from you, but still only applies against attacks made by the opponent that you designated upon first using this ability. It is a move action to use this ability.
Once per round while using Archon Style, when you have at least one hand free, Jalila can divert one melee weapon attack that would have struck an  adjacent archon ally and take the blow in your ally’s stead, using your own AC to determine whether the attack hits you. Whether or not a diverted attack actually hits you, the ally you protected can make an attack of opportunity against the diverted opponent. You expend no action to divert the attack, but you must be aware of it and must not be flat-footed. You must declare that you are using this feat after your opponent has declared the target of its melee attack but before it makes its attack roll.

When Jalila diverts an attack to herself and actually suffers damage, any allies threatening the PCs get a free A.o.O. against the diverted opponent. 

Hound Archon / Monk 1
HP:55 
AC:23 (+2 Wisdom, +9 Natural, +2 Deflection)
DR:10/Evil
F:+12 R:+9 W:+9
Unarmed Strike: (+9)1D6+3Bite (+9)1D8+3
Stunning Fists:4x daily, Fort DC 14

Paired Opportunist: +4 on A.o.O. vs shared threatsSnapping Flank - While flanking, swift action to get a bite attack 
Improved Greater Fortitude.

Equipment: Belt of Giant Strength and Constitution +2 

Narikopolous Manor

F9-Where Zaine keeps many of the acquired items, this is where they will first encounter him. He will animate a number of items before teleporting out of the room. During this fight, Bargle the Demonic appears.

Loot:Nightmare Boots, Infernal Cord, Skullcrusher Gauntlets, Rod of Minor Curses, Fiend's Relief, Brimstone Barbazu, Chest of Epic Loots Type 2 - Item not exceeding 18,000 GP., Lichead 

F3- The Grodair fight takes place here, with the creature magically leaving it's tank encompassed in an orb of water. 

The Aftermath of the Sword Tower trap.

The soft flap of the archon's wings was drowned out by the
tumultuous rumble of the collapsing tower. A cloud of debris
scattered through the streets, coating nearby businesses, homes,
and squatting peasants, who fled the chaos in fear.
Able to move without making even the slightest of noises, the
archon made it a point to flap his wings when landing near his
mortal allies - it served to make them more at ease when they
were aware of his presence, rather than being surprised by his
supernatural quietude. Faydreth Zaine, Rassaphore of the Kantaria
Resistance, was not such a man perturbed by the archon's silence.
Very little seemed to unnerve the half-elf. Standing atop a squat
two story wooden building, two streets over from the sword tower,
the night's wind blew through his auburn hair as he watched the
dust begin to settle - his face impassive to the destruction.
"Your plan was carried out flawlessly." the angel reported,
folding his jet black wings behind him.
"Your intel was accurate, Umberro." The Rassaphore replied, in
offer of a compliment, the archon supposed.
"What will be the Reclamation's next step, moving forward?"
Umberro asked, lowering the black cloth that covered his face,
masculine features that seemed sculpted from a dark gray, smooth
stone,his eyes the most striking feature- a piercingly vivid
green.
"Moving forward, we will try to repair the damage done by the
insurgents. There is very little else we can do. The people's
faith in the Glorious Reclamation is too damaged for us to
contribute to the efforts of the Reclamation's regional plans,
and Oppian's faith in himself is too shaken for him to
effectively rally the citizens to action. His killing of Tychus
Groat, the loss of Sinderbos, the Oathday Massacre, and the
rebuttal of his advances towards the Nidalese tavern wench have
all dealt severe blows to his confidance." The Half-Elf's voice
was flat, analytical.
"The loss of a sword tower, and so many supplies will surely be
another blow, even as the death of the evil-doers might uplift
him" The archon asked, momentarily surprised to hear that the
leader of the Reclamation was in such poor spirits.
"The tower was a neccesary sacrifice." replied Zaine withou
pause. "The only supply losses we suffered were of wooden crates,
 dyed water from the Sedna River, well polished parade armor, and
wooden practice swords."
The archon's eyes widened in surprise, the mouth cut into his
polsihed stone face agape, an expression he did not make often,
"You decieved me?" he asked, incredulously.
"I used deception yes, but spoke no falsehood to you. A shipment
did arrive, We simply had better sense than to store it in the
sword tower. I did however, spread rumor to the troops that it
would be held there until dispersal. I knew the lesser
disciplined ones would speak loosely of it, giving the Devils an
irresistable target while lifting the hopes of those who support
out cause."
Umberro thought on this for a moment. Recalling their
conversations, Zaine had never explcitiy told Umberro that the
northern sword tower held precious supplies - only that a
shipment had been placed there, and Umberro was needed to watch
for intruders into the tower. Umberro, having to often practice
his own unique form of deception and misinformation devoid of
actual lies and falsehoods, could appreciate the Rassaphore's
efforts towards a noble goal.
"The Fourth Sword Knight will not appreciate the necessity of
your actions. He will have wanted to out them publically, before
meeting them on a field of battle."
"Yes. He would have wanted to be recognized for his valor in
defeating them through traditional methods of warfare, as most
Iomedaens would want. Our enemy knew this and refused to be
goaded into such action. We needed an unconventional way of
ending their violence, and a trap was as unconventional of a
method as I was willing to stoop to. No doubt this will weigh
against me in the afterlife, when my measure is tested on the
scales of justice, but hopefully the pain and suffering I
prevented will make up for it." The pair were silent, as the
town's guards and people began to slowly make their way to the
rubble.
"I will need to make myself known - they will all suspect this to
be the work of The Devil, and rumors should be squashed before
they can spread. Umberro, I thank you for your service." said
Zaine, who completed a spell, and then began hovering inches from
the ground. "Return to your duties, remain wary for any agents of
House Thrune that may still be operating. We still have much to
do." Faydreth Zaine glided along the air, flying towards the
destruction and calling out to the Reclamation soldiers.
Umberro perched on the edge of the rooftop, eyes peering down,
eager to catch signs of anyone that might try to scamper away
from beneath the collapsed tower. These enemies had proven to be
a remarkably resistant to the Reclamations efforts. He would
watch the scene like a hawk peering for a rodent, and dispatch
any of them he spotted.

Despair Meter

With the Queen's Hand yet to arrive in Kantaria, it falls to the Hellfire Heathens to find a way to drive out the Glorious Reclamation. Outnumbered, outgunned and with virtually no allies, they find themselves facing a challenging situation.

A late night meeting with Razelago, Azrael speaks, explaining the foolish death of Wyran Thrune. Taken aback and quite shocked, Razelago listens to the story as well as the explanation that the Queen's Hand is long overdue. He travels back to Archbaron Fex, returning an hour later via teleportation, with a letter.


"The news of Wyran's death is as unexpected as it is enraging. However, we cannot allow this to stop our plans. My pupil has studied The Art and can provide sage counsel. Heed his advice as if it were my own. It is most auspicious that one Thrune's death is timed so closely to another one's arrival. The Thrune house holds great favor amongst the Lords of Hell, and perhaps the divine Prince of Darkness had a hand in how these events played out.

Until your situation changes, you will need to wage a war of sabotage and subterfuge against the Reclamation. Do not overplay your hands and get yourselves killed. You must breed fear and mistrust amongst them to foster dissent. Dissent will be your shepheard's crook to lead the flock to despair and once they despair, they will turn back to the only thing they know, the secure yolk of House Thrune."

DESPAIR POINTS

In the previous chapter, you were trying to slow the accrual of rebellion points as much as possible, in order to slow the timing of events. In chapter 2, Wrath of Thrune, you are trying to earn as many despair points as possible, in order to undermine the Glorious Reclamation. To date, The Glorious Reclamation secured the city of Kantaria with little bloodshed, and they have turned the town into a place of peace and security. They rule with a velvet gloved hand, and make few demands of the citizenry. They have rounded up Thrune loyalist, ensured commerce remains normal, and have helped feed and clothe the poor and downtrodden, all earning the respect of the people. The Hellfire Heathens must undo all of this as covertly as possible. The price of failure is capture or death, depending on the severity of the offense. 

The book has numerous events that occur that will provide the OPPORTUNITY to earn points in order progress the story. I strongly encourage each of they players to take their characters class, items, and abilities, and personality into consideration and develop your own individual plans in order to cause fear, dissent, and despair in the folks of citizenry. KEEP IN MIND - The Glorious Reclamation is the overwhelming presence in Kantaria. Should your plan be poorly thought out, it may lead to capture or execution. 

Despair Rating: 33

The Devil of Kantaria, The Life Leech, and The Peasant Basher have unarguably carved a serious wound onto the psyche of the Kantaria citizens. People no longer feel safe on the streets - travel in the city stops well before dusk as people huddle in their house. Families large enough post their own sentries, strong men and youths to watch the door, should something evil come knocking. A feeling of paranoia has begun to worm itself into the minds of the Reclamation troops, as they begin to suspect everyone of possibly working against them, and their once helpful attitude towards the citizens is now one of slight suspicion. Guards have been pulled from Hardships Hearth to fortify patrols, whistles handed out to better be heard should they run into trouble, and stores of magic items have been given to select lieutenants and even sergeants to aid them. A few trusted townsfolk have been recruited into the Nightwatch Militia, to even further their strength.
Goods remain 20% more expensive.
Due to the number of people leaving the outskirts of Kantaria and entering the city proper, attempting to stealthily travel at night will now require a stealth check made for each hour out, and impose a -3 penality due to the sheer number of eyes in the city alert for signs of trouble. 

The townsfolk of Kantaria whisper that an organized insurgents oppose the Glorious Reclamation. Rumors persist that the most outspoken opponent is a powerful wizard, The Devil of Kantaria. His mark, that of a horned skull with a snake twisting through orifices is easily recognized. It is believed that his attacks on the Reclamation has allowed for other evils to surface, including "The Peasant Basher", a murderer who tortures workers in the outlying areas around Kantaria, and "The Life Leech", an unknown killer believed to be some sort of monster, who chooses his victims indiscriminately and saps their body of all their life energies. 

Concern for the future is on the rise as smart merchants fear the possibility of civil unrest - the price of ALL goods increases by 20%. All Reclamation patrols are being reinforced by additional units.  

Inspired by Oppian's speech, the townsfolk of Kantaria grow emboldened to action. There is a 30% chance during any public encounter against obvious evil forces that a human mob will form to try and deal with the threat. 

• Making use of posters booby-trapped with explosive and fiery runes to harm random citizens +3 Despair. The Glorious Reclamation has taken steps to inform the citizens, who now are careful not to look at the posters.

• The disappearance of Wakko, Yakko, and Dot, three halflings who ran a small fishing business near the Sedna River. +2 Despair. The townsfolk question the decision on putting three recently freed slaves on the outskirts of Kantaria by themselves. The Halfling population upset that the three were not offered better protection. The Glorious Reclamation launches full investigation, but lead suspect Nicolae Umbra has ironclad alibi.

• The savage murder of Jayblin Blackcreek, the man who operated the grain mill along the Sedna River. Rumors say that he was strapped to his own mill's waterwheel and faced repeated water torture before he was murdered - his entire head brutally bashed to a pulp, down to the shoulders. +2 Despair. The Glorious Reclamation has pledged a full investigation. It is unclear if this was related to the disappearance of the three halflings.
• The murder of various townsfolk, with the only common thread being that their exists no obvious method. +2 Despair. The Glorious Reclamation initially suspects powerful illusion magic, which has been known to be used in the past to kill it's victims in bloodless ways. However, clerical spells granted by Iomedae allowing communion with shades of the victims reveals that they witnessed no bizarre images or monsters in the last moments of their life, only an intrusion into their minds followed by the whispering of an unknown being. Reclamation leaders now suspect the use of incorporeal undead.
• The Oathday Massacre- Whatever bloodlust that washed over the citizens of Kantaria that drove them to such madness was never identified, but the day will forever be remembered as the bloodiest day in the towns history. An unknown force swept through the joyous event, driving hundreds of the citizens to turn on each other, in a full out assault, doing their best to kill each other. Those who resisted the urges had to fight for their lives against their murderous countrymen. Several other factors made the event significantly worse, including visiting dignitary of the Trox people of Mount Rinia, Stone Lord Krixis Two-Ton Boulderfists, who waded through the citizens with his warhammer as if they were bugs, a trained ape being attacked by his gnomish master and then driven to fighting for its life, several large horses amidst the crowd, and armed members of the Torag faith having to defend themselves from rioting peasants. Citizens were found dead throughout the surrounding area - in total, 183 died in the riots.
  
  +6 despair for the Massacre itself.
  +1 Despair for the death of the two hound archons who were suppose to protect the Oathday Market and are seen as failing in their duties.
  +1 Depair for the death of several notable and loved members of the town, specifically "Dingy", "Brewbelly" and Lindel the Butcher.
  +2 Despair for the death of The Twins, lesser leaders of the Reclamation.
  The Glorious Reclamation declares martial law for 2 days as they launch a thorough search throughout the area to try and determine some sort of source for the violence. Finding none through mundane methods, Governor Oppian Nevilindor has pledged to spend a week in fasting and prayer in an attempt to beseech Iomedae for insight - meanwhile lower ranking clerics will use all divination spells at their disposal to find answers.
• With the total destruction of the Kantaria Docks, the town faces a major loss of revenue as boatsman travel elsewhere to do their business - it is simply too difficult for merchants to unload heavy trunks and chests from boats on to the steep, muddy banks of Kantaria. Additionally, the man most qualified to help solve the problem - Sancho Reikman - was killed in the fire caused by The Devil of Kantaria. +5 Despair for the destruction of the docks. +1 Despair for the death of a lesser leader of Kantaria. The Reclamation immediately seeks out skilled carpenters to begin rebuilding the docks. While able to locate workers skilled in woodwork, none of them are as skilled at dealing with the problems of water as Sancho would have been. It will be quite some time before docks are rebuilt. 
• A grizzly murder is discovered at one of the outlying farms of Kantaria. The Guldwhey family was assaulted in their own beds. The children were tied and left in a root cellar, while Berrick and Galina Guldwhey were savagely beaten, and then nailed atop makeshift crosses among their wheat fields in grizzly effigy to scarecrows. The bodies were not discovered until two days after their murder, by passing Reclamation soldiers. The children have survived and have been sent to nearby Longacre to live with family. +2 Despair. Believed to be related to Jayblin Blackcreek's murder, the Reclamation is unable to quell rumors about the two events, and the name "The Peasant Basher" is being attributed to a murderer who is targetting townsfolk with sadistic torture then murder in a way that relates to their vocation, with their mouths being smashed in by a blunt object. 
• The Voice, the assimar woman responsible for many of the called outsiders that serve in Kantaria was slain, presumably by The Devil of Kantaria, while traveling outside the city walls. An ear piercing tone was heard throughout the city, as each of the summoned allies cried out, their connection between the Heavens and Golarion briefly thrummed in the ripple effect. Although not easily spotted, the archons and angels that now patrol the streets are ever-so slightly less robust than before, and a little quicker to find themselves full of righteous fury at the citizens for minor infractions. +1 Despair for the death of a lesser leader in Kantaria. While not publicized, the loss of Sinderbos spreads through the Reclamation. The former hammer of Tychus Groat was to be purified into a tool for the forces of good, to be used to craft shining armor for the Reclamation troops. It's loss weighs heavily on Iomedae's soldiers, but none feel the loss so acutely as Oppian Nevilindor, Groat's old friend and killer. +2 Despair. 
• Brazen attacks on the Glorious Reclamation patrols left dozens dead, as devils were summoned from Hell to slay them. How will the Reclamation protect the townsfolk, if they cannot even protect themselves? +3 Despair. The Reclamation responds by strengthening their patrols with more seasoned soldiers previously stationed at Hardships Hearth, and assuring the people that the Reclamation is now fully prepared to deal with The Devil of Kantaria. 
• The third grizzly murder, this time of Reberto Mondavi, a Chellish man who kept a humble vineyard, and crafted sweet spring wines to make a living for himself and wife. Rumors are that the pair were forced to gorge themselves on their own grapes and wine to the point that their elderly stomachs were near to burst - and as with the other murders, their heads violently caved in by blunt force. +2 Despair. Many of the peasantfolk in the area outside take leave of their homes, either traveling into Kantaria or leaving for elsewhere, as their is little safety out in the rural areas. With few places to stay, many households are forced to sleep in the streets. Stealthily traveling at night becomes difficult, imposing a -3 penalty due to the sheer number of people now in the city.  
• The arrival of a horse carrying the dwarven corpse of Kalcyra the Just, an inquisitor of Torag, and a binding force between the Glorious Reclamation and the dwarven followers of The Smith. Within two hours of her body arriving, those who followed Kalcyra to Kantaria have their worldly possessions packed on mules, and are leaving, leaving behind many smoldering forges, that once rang with the sound of hammer crafting out weapons and armor for reclamation soldiers. Between the destruction of the Tychus Groat and the Moloch worshippers and the Torag smiths, the number of capable smiths in Kantaria can be counted on one hand with fingers to spare. Not only will the reclamation suffer, but so will the townsfolk as their metalworked tools and household items fall into disrepair. +6 Despair. 

Oppian Nevilindor sends word out the same day that Kalcyra the Just is slain - he will be giving a speech to all of Kantaria at the southern Sword Tower. Bread, and stew, and wine will be provided for all who attend, the meeting to be held at dusk.
True to his word, Oppian is at the Sword Tower at dusk. The middle aged man kneels in prayer before the statue of Iomedae that sits beside the tower's heavy oaken door. His armor is immaculate, and shines even through the coming night.
Channeling healing energy into the statue of Iomedae at the base of the tower, causes the entire 50 foot stone sword to illuminate brightly. While not unseen by most of the townsfolk, the display of magic is still a sight to behold for the common folk.

"Citizens of Kantaria - I come to you not as your governor, or a military leader," He begins, his voice magically amplified so that the hundreds in attendance can hear, "but as a fellow citizen. I stand not on a platform speaking down to you, or from the balcony of Valor's Fastness speaking up to Iomedae in holy exaltation, but I walk among you, speaking to you as a neighbor. Like many of you, I was born and raised here in our town. All my life, I have lived under the threat of House Thrune, knowing that should I stray far from liturgy permitted by the Crown, that my very soul would be gifted to the 9 Hells on a silver platter. Yet, I followed the path of The Inheritor, praying each day for the courage to maintain my conviction. And there has been no lack of trials to test my faith. The constant threat of Thrune, the presence of fiends in our city and the terrors they have inspired in us. I have had to put my own friend to the sword, a man I would have called brother once, who I could not sway from his beliefs any more than I could be swayed from mine. And through it all, my courage has not left me. It has seen me through these times, and gives me the strength to carry on, to lead the Glorious Reclamation. Our movement is more than just about reclaiming Iomedae's sword she wielded as a mortal - it is about shaking loose the yolk of tyranny that is Thrune, about breaking the bonds that would bind us to Hell. I have lost more friends these past few months than most people lose in a lifetime. And you have an equally pressing burden - the loss of family, of children, and husbands, and wives, and mothers and fathers. House Thrune would rob you of all these precious things and more, they would settle your souls as currency to garner favor in Hell and further their own station. I plead with you, as a fellow countryman, be courageous and draw strength to oppose these tyrants - if not in body, then in mind. Do not allow them to cow you in your homes, do not allow them to push you into a pit of despair - together, united, we are the swords of Iomedae, and we will drive out these wretched fiends, and show them the Inheritor's wrath!"

The citizens find solace in Oppian's speech - while not overwhelmingly successful, the cleric does manage to inspire some confidence in the citizens of Kantaria. Over the next few days, their fervor will spread to others, as citizens begin to take a more active role in driving out the Devil of Kantaria and his ilk. -8 Despair. 

Hazardous Meetings and Dangerous Greetings

An aged couple prodded their underfed nag along the southern road into Kantaria. The man wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, and coveralls, chewing on a piece of wheat. The woman wore a shawl over her head, and was wrapped in an old gray blanket, the kind that would normally be used to give a dog a place to sleep. She shivered beneath the sodden cotton, as if sick with the shakes. Behind them, the nag pulled a cart lined with hay, and full of turnips, and a handful of other,  withered lookng produce. Beside them, walked their three sons, simple, but strong looking men dressed in peasant work clothes, simple cotton shirts and breeches stained with dirt and.sweat, and their skin tanned from long days spent in the fields. 

Ahead lay the town of Kataria, where they would try and make whatever copper coins they could, selling their paltry vegetables, that they might survive another year without ending up in a Chellish dungeon for failure to pay their taxes.  Between them and their destination, stood a group of sentries, soldiers and halfling scouts, backed by a row of archers, and led by silver haired, steel eyed sargeant, all bearing the symbol of Iomedae. 

They wheeled their cart up to the entourage, the sargeant stopping them with one open palm.

"Names? What business have you in Kantaria?"

The youngest of the me spoke up, his voice typical of the peasant drawl found among barnhands and pig farmers. 

"Here to try and sell our turnups, sir. Closest market to our farm out yonder 4 leagues." He spoke, tossing his head back to indicate a general direction of 'somewhere' behind him.

"And names?" The steely eyed sargeant repeated, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. The two halflings began to inspect the cart, while the two human guards began to sift through the turnips and hay. 

"The Barrows, sir." Then youngest man replied, smiling wide at the sargeant. 

"Awfully nice smile you have there...for turnip farmers.", the old man replied, not even bothering to try and mask his suspicion. "Gilly, Harver, thorough search." He said, his tone authoritative. The halflings gave quick nods,  and began rapping their knuckles hard against the wagon, while their human counter parts began to throw turnips from the wagon to the ground. Behind him, the archers knocked arrows into their bows, taking a few steps forward. 

The young man's smile faded from his face. 

"Pa always said toothcare was important." He replied after a moments hesitation, his eyes flickering to the halflings.

"Right here, Sarge. Hollow panel, I'm certain."

The halfling named Gilly said, ear to the wagon as he knocked. 

Drawing a crowbar, the sargeant ripped the plank from the wagon with ease, reaching into the compartment, and drawing out a sack of red velvet. "Trying to hide something? What am I going to find in here?"

"Oh, I think you know." Said the oldest brother, silent until now, his dark brow furrowing beneath his peasant cap. The glare was not lost on the sargeant, who handed the item to the halfling named Harver. "Flip it." He ordered through clenched teeth, hand going to his sword's hilt. 

"Ho hum, ho hum." Mused the long-haired halfling, pulling at the drawstrings and flipping the bag in and out several times. With a sudden clash of noises, the bag of holding forcefully expelled it's contents onto the road, numerous weapons,  Asmodean unholy symbol and texts, a spell book and other incriminating evidence. 

Moving with practiced speed, Bernard reached out to one of the sargeant's men, and lay a hand on his shoulder, murmuring an incantation. Arcane lightning surged through the middle son's hand, causing the guard's body to convulse, dropping to the ground with a heavy thud. Hectate and Ralphio both dove to the ground, Hectate for his five pointed unholy symbol, and Ralphio for his crossbow. 

The elder carrows jumped down from the wagon, Alecto with a rapier already inexplicably in hand, slashing the sargeant across the forehead, while Amycus followed up the strike with a solid blow to the chin, sending him reeling. Just as he found his footing, an arrow pierced the patriarch's shoulder joint, causing him to cry out in pain. The archers had been quick to the draw and sure of aim as they let loose their arrows into the melee. Harver had scrambled to intercept Ralphio's lunge for his crossbow, but his small arms left his hands empty for the effort, Ralphio scooping the weapon up, and then driving the attached bayonet into the halfling's seafoam green eye, slicing it open beyond repair. The halfling tore himself off the blade, worsening the already grievous wound, his screams were cries of agony as he clutched a hand to his face, trying hopelessly to preserve the pulpated material. Hectate rose from the ground, Asmodean symbol clutched in hand. "By the will of The Unyielding Law, Asmodeus, Prince of Darkness and Hellfire and Blood Oaths," he shouted above the commotion, seemingly unfazed as two arrows pierced his chest, "grant me a spiritul weapon, bring down the upstart fools!" A mace seeingly crafted from hellfire appeared behind the archers, swinging wildly at them, as they tried uselessly to defend themselves with their bows.

Bernard reached down, taking the fallen soldier's shortsword from his belt, the weapon igniting with fire, even as Ralphio stood to his feet, loading a bolt into his crossbow. Alecto and Amycus now locked in battle with the grizzled sargeant, who's longsword was making quick work of the unarmored Carrows, delivering cutting wounds to them and bloodying their farmer's disguise.

The second halfling, Gilly moved with great speed,  driving a dagger into the back of Hectate's leg, the wound cutting and tearing at flesh even as he danced into reach of Ralphio. "Hold still!" Shouted the youngest brother,  trying to adjusthis aim on Gilly. "Hold your guts!" Countered the halfling, as he slashed open the young humans stomach, causing him to double over.  He spun to face the last of the Carrow brothers, and was greeted with the stolen shortsword to his skull. His vision went dark, as the smell of burnt flesh and hair filled his nostrils. He heard  help arriving from the town, and he held up his dagger, stabbing half-blind in pain, a desperate attempt to fend off his attacker. As his vision came back to him, he witnessed his sargeant put down the older man and female with his longsword, and members of the Glorious Reclamation tackle mand bring down the magic user, just before allowing himself to pass out.

"Take them to Hardship's Hearth! Keep them alive and seperated until we figure out who they are! Take caster precautions with all of them!" The gray haired sargeant shouted, his anger still burning hot. 

Kantaria

1. Groat’s Smithy: The former workplace

of blacksmith Tychus Groat, this smithy

is now little more than a ruin of

blackened wood and stone.

2. Harbor: The Taldan soldiers following General

Kantarikos dug Kantaria’s harbor out of the banks of

the Sedna River before the town was even founded. Its

docks, originally little more than a humble assemblage of

wooden planks, were constructed for the disembarkation

of soldiers. Iomedae ordered the docks fortified during

her rule of Kantaria, and a solid stone wall and gatehouse

were erected west of the harbor to ward off river pirates

and other aquatic threats. Up to three riverboats can

moor at the docks at one time. Usually the watercraft

found there are supply ships making their way to the

Menador Mountains or hauling trade goods back to

the heartlands; even after the arrival of the Glorious

Reclamation, Chelish ships are still permitted to

dock in Kantaria as long as they pay a fee and submit

to a rigorous inspection to ensure their cargoes are

not bound for House Thrune or the Imperial Army.

Kantaria’s harbormaster, a former river pirate named

Jonas Reikman, manages the docks and oversees the

searches for the Glorious Reclamation, just as he did

before the Iomedaeans’ arrival.

All sorts of tales surround Kantaria’s harbor, the most

popular being that it conceals a cache of lost Iomedaean

relics. According to local legend, Iomedae herself stood

vigil on the newly constructed harbor walls, wielding

a longbow to devastating effect against a rising tide

of aberrations from the river. It is said that some of

Iomedae’s arrows, now holy relics of the goddess, still

survive somewhere in the depths of the harbor.

3. Healthy Heart Alchemicals: Run by the

chirurgeon Linton Demeer, a member of

Kantaria’s governing council, Healthy Heart

Alchemicals is a stopping point for most

townsfolk in need of magical healing. The

shop is stocked with a seemingly endless

supply of curative and restorative

potions, as well as an assortment of

more potent alchemical concoctions.

Up until recent events, many Kantarians

preferred not to show favoritism to the

churches of Asmodeus or Iomedae,

instead buying their healing from Healthy Heart. With the arrival of the Glorious Reclamation, citizens are more open to acquiring services from Nevilindor and the clerics at Valor’s Fastness,though the church still sends those with minor needs to Demeer.

4. Inheritor’s Square: Named for Iomedae, Kantaria’s

main square was used for public excruciations and

other punishments prior to the arrival of the Glorious

Reclamation. Now, the square is home to a vibrant,

open market, bustling with trade. Every Oathday,

the square hosts a larger gathering, as farmers from

outside town and miners from the nearby Menador

Mountains come to barter food and ore for equipment

and supplies.

5. Iomedae’s Home: When the mortal Iomedae lived

in Kantaria, this simple, single-story wooden house

was her home. Maintained regularly by the clergy at

Valor’s Fastness, the residence has remained intact for

nearly 900 years ago, a fact the locals attribute to divine

providence. For the price of 1 silver piece, visitors can

get a short, guided tour from local vagabond Pious Pete,

who bills himself as an “amateur historian,” though he

is known for blatantly exaggerating and misrepresenting

Iomedae’s life in Kantaria.

6. Kantaria Historicum: Both in their late seventies,

Anselm Mathis (CN venerable male human bard 5)

and his husband Gebhard (CG venerable male human

expert 6), have run this combination library and

bookstore for the past 50 years. Avid collectors of books

and documents, the two men met during a literary

conference in Westcrown, and eventually joined their

wealth to purchase a plot of land in town and open

the Kantaria Historicum. Having come under scrutiny

more than once by the Order of the Pyre during the

Hellknights’ infrequent visits to Kantaria, the elderly

couple surprised the town’s populace when they

unexpectedly produced hundreds of hidden tomes

in the wake of the Glorious Reclamation’s arrival.

Previously seen as heretical, these new additions to

the Kantaria Historicum represent a wealth

of information on the various religions

found throughout the Inner Sea region

and beyond.

7. Labor Guild: In the aftermath of

the Glorious Reclamation’s conquest

of the town, dozens of Kantaria’s

slaves found themselves freed and

without purpose. To fill this void,

long-retired dwarven foreman

Durgal Mircask (NG male

dwarf expert 4) created the

Labor Guild, based in the

town’s former slave auction

house. Managing several

accounts, Durgal receives work

orders from townsfolk, farmers, and

external interests alike. Using an

allocation system based on factors such as seniority,

experience, and physical aptitude, Durgal doles out jobs

for those seeking work. In exchange for this service,

Durgal takes a small portion of laborers’ wages, using the

funds to finance larger business opportunities for those coming to the guild for aid.

8. The Little Uskwood: Although this inn appears to

be built from shoddy gray wood, the Little Uskwood is

actually constructed from lumber imported from its

namesake—the Uskwood in shadow-touched Nidal to

the north. Built to accommodate travelers journeying

between Nidal and the Chelish heartlands, the inn’s

gloomy ambiance seems depressing to many Chelaxians

and other visitors, but Nidalese guests find the

atmosphere comforting and refreshing. Currently run by

Loredana Viorica, daughter of the inn’s founder, the Little

Uskwood has seen minimal change with the Glorious

Reclamation’s arrival in Kantaria,

9. Narikopolus Manor: Built from austere red brick, this

large mansion is the manorial seat and official residence of

House Narikopolus, the archdukes of Menador. Nowhere

near as opulent as the noble homes seen in larger Chelish

cities, Narikopolus Manor is nevertheless the most

impressive private dwelling in the town. The Glorious

Reclamation claimed the manor when they took Kantaria,

and Rassophore Faydreth Zaine, the order’s resident

wizard, now makes his home here. The Iomedaean knights

confiscated countless magic items during Kantaria’s fall,

and many of the most dangerous objects were brought to

the manor for personal inspection by Zaine.

10. Shrine of the Hammer: This small chapel was once

dedicated to Aroden, but in the wake of the Chelish Civil

War, it became Kantaria’s temple of Asmodeus. Since the

arrival of the Glorious Reclamation, however, the site has

been repurposed once more, this time as a shrine to

Torag, tending to the spiritual needs of Kantaria’s

small but growing dwarven community.

The leader of the shrine’s congregation is

Kalcyra, a dwarven inquisitor. Dubbed

“the Just” by her allies within the Glorious

Reclamation, Kalcyra hopes to

train new disciples to follow

her beyond the borders

of Kantaria and into the

infernal heart of Cheliax.

11. The Sweetest Drop:

Owned by a reluctant

member of Kantaria’s

governing council, Jana Holdus,

the Sweetest Drop is both a tavern

and an inn. Jana prefers to run

her establishment more as a

drinking hole, sending customers

who just want a soft bed to her competitor, Loredana

Viorica, at the Little Uskwood. Jana doesn’t see much of

a financial drawback from this act of generosity, as many

of her more vivacious patrons inevitably spend the extra

coin to sleep at the Sweetest Drop rather than risk an

embarrassing walk home in the dark.

12. Sword Towers: Three stone watchtowers overlook

Kantaria from the north, west, and south. Each tower is

capped with an oversized stone sword similar to the holy

symbol of Iomedae, pointing toward the sky. Iomedae

herself oversaw the towers’ construction, and when the

sun sets, the swords glow with the light of continual flame

until sunrise. 

13. Valor’s Fastness: Originally the site of General

Kantarikos’s command post, Kantaria’s temple of Iomedae

sits atop the highest point in town. Reconstructed and

renovated countless times in the centuries since the

town’s founding, the fortified temple now boasts strong

walls of whitewashed stone and a 115-foot-tall spire

topped with a dome of red tiles. Valor’s Fastness is the

focal point for the Iomedaean church and the Glorious

Reclamation in Kantaria, and currently houses many of

the knightly order’s troops. Due to the ongoing war, the

fortress is off-limits to citizens except for weekly prayer

sessions held in the temple’s sanctuary.

The Little Uskwood

The woman bears all the classic features of a Nidalese - pale skin, raven black hair and high, pointed cheek bones and nose with a slightly unsersized mouth. At rest, her face seems to naturally form something of a cruel look of disdain. Undoubtly Nidalese.

 She motions to you to meet you over at the far end of the bar. Making your way through the crowded Tavern, you find yourself bumping into an uncomfortable number of Glorious Reclamation soldiers. While they pay no attention to you, you begin to question if this woman is truly loyal to Archbaron Fex. 

At the far end, she leans forward to speak with you, using rowdiness of the business to mask her ominous news. "I am Loredana. You should know that not all has gone according to plan. The Queen's Hand was suppose to arrive here five days ago. I have not heard from them, nor has the wind carried any word about them in that time. I fear that they may have become indisposed or worse, captured by the Reclamation. All known and even many of the more quiet Thrune supporters have been rounded up to Hardship's Hearth, in a concentraition camp. For you, that means you are in a very bad place, surrounded by enemies and exceedingly few allies. I will leave things to your discretion, but you may consider the option of giving up Kantaria and returning from wherver you came. Fex's wrath is severe,  but not as severe as the Reclamation's if they find out you are Agents."

Cimiri speaks up, standing back, as a group of men and one very beautiful woman all gather around her. "Well, good thing I have friends in low places. Ched, Marko, Krash, Henry, Penelope, a pleasure to see you all." She says, patting them each on the back. Looks like we have just a few more. Meet The Devil Hogs." She says smiling wildly.

Loredana Vicorina does not look amused.

"Yes. I suppose they will be of some use. If you chose to stay, I have gathered some intelligence on places you may wish to strike at to weaken the Reclamation. I also have an associate of mine who may be willing to assist you, if you are willing to do them a favor. Take some time to think it over. I have to get back to work."

Longacre secured.

Gregory Haylissh affixed a small pin bearing the symbol of House Thrune to the breast of his shirt. He grimaced as the sharpened piece of metal slipped his thick fingers and broke the skin of his thumb. The tiniest dot of blood swelled from his calloused digit. I guess House Thrune will have their people's blood one way or the other he thought to himself. He stuck the finger in his mouth to catch the ruby droplet. Looking forward, he eyed the gruesome display of rebel corpses adorning the square in front of the jail. Fex's men had wanted to send a message, and as far as Gregory was concerned, that message was clearly recieved. When the gallows in front of the former Iomedaen church held four hung bodies, the other surviving rebels had been nailed to makeshift crucifixes in front of the jail. The deputies were untrained in the "art" of torture, and many of the ones facing the cross died long before than the ones Thrune and his man had a hand in. 3 days later, and many of the ones Thrune did personally still gasped for breath. When they had run out of supplies for crucifixion, they used the pillories. Gregory looked at the two still in the devices. Arnie Beratsun and Nella Vinn, covered in their own blood and waste, driven to a point well beyond exhaustion, but just before death, their breathing coming in labored gasps. For two days, they had endured, calling on Iomedae for mercy. When they ran out of space in the holding cells, the sheriff and his deputies slit throats of anyone not pardoned, enslaved, or disappeared by the Archbaron, and piled them in front of Arnie and Nella. Now, on the third day, the pilloried pair had succumbed to madness, clearly suffering from delusions induced by hunger, thirst, and the horrors they had witnessed.  Gregory guessed that on day 6, they would have those pardoned fulfill their punishment by carting off and burying the dead. 

Gregory was no stranger to bloodshed and violence. In his years as a logger, he had witnessed careless men crushed to bloody pulps by falling trees, careful men stung to death by giant hellwasps and filled with toxins to such a degree they appeared as nothing more than a heavy lump of bubbly flesh. Once, he had even witnessed a unbound demon eviscerate a wife bringing her husband a packed meal, and watched as the fiend slurped her entrails like noodles. But this was somehow far worse - it was unrestrained butchery. 

Gregory pulled his thumb from out of his mouth, and eyed it to make sure it was shut. Satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he processed the scene what had occured in Longacre the last few days, and casually decided that something in him had broken. Possibly his spirit, maybe his sanity. Gregory was not a man of deep introspection. He would just accept that 'something' was broken within himself, and hope that it wouldn't interfere with his life too much  or cause him to make a stupid decision.  He had made a stupid decision donating the handful of coins to Louslik in order to hire the mercenaries. A rash decision made in the hope that their numbers might be enough to overcome the savage brutality of Fex's men. He had nearly agreed to join the ambush that hid in the flower shop. Something had nagged at him not to join those rebels, perhaps it had been good sense, because those men had been slaughtered before they even set foot out the door. 

He hoped that his complicity went unnoticed, and that no one else was privy to the funders. He kept a dagger on his belt now, sharpened to a fine edge. Should Fex's men come for him, he would slit his own throat before even hearing what they wanted of him. For now, he would wear his Thrune pin like nearly all of Longacre's citizens now did, and keep his head low, and his mouth quiet.

Longacre in open rebellion!

Gunshots rang out during the night, cutting through the town's silence as easily as thunder. The townfolk who hear it, know better than to leave the safety of their homes to investigate. They also know that the sunrise will bring with it more bad news about the well being of their countrymen. The sound of the fierce Azriel's firearm has now become associated with the murder of friends and family.

Try as they might, Dravus Arkell (newly appointed Sheriff, and associate of Cimri Staelish) and his men leave enough clues and evidence behind that citizens of Longacre realize that several grizzly murders took place at the Longacre Armory, even if they are not sure who was killed. Word spreads like wild dragon fire.

It seems that the most righteous citizens of Longacre have finally reached a fervent hatred for their oppressive government. For years now, Archbaron Fex has been taxing them into starvation, bankruptcy, and slavery. His most recent appointments that masquerade as lawmen even while they murder townsfolk is the last straw. Convinced that their only chance of survival is in overthrowing Archbaron Fex and his lackeys and throwing in with the Glorious Reclamation, the bravest among them dust off their old military weapons, create makeshift clubs from broken furniture, or simply gather up small bags of rocks for throwing and take to the streets. They are determined to put an end to known Thrune supporters, Sheriff Arkell, and Wyrune Thrune and his unnamed band of enforcers.

Most of the populace hides indoors, a sense of forboding strong in the air. They secretly hope that their more courageous neighbors might combine with the Glorious Reclamation and rid them of the Thrune menace, but they also secretly long for things to go back to the way they were - oppressed, but safe. They watch from shuttered windows to see how events play out in the streets, eager for the dice to fall as they may so that they can get back to their lives.

Word also spreads that The Fifth Sword Knight Tileavia Allamar has broken through her grief after being visited by The Angel Knight herself and gifted with potent magic that may just turn the tide against the local government.  She has sent word to her parishoners that they should travel in groups to the Church of Iomedae where she will rally them into an organized attack once she has finished her prayers.

Rumors from Kantaria

Razelago approaches your nameless group while you are briefly alone, out of sight from the citizenry. Appearing seemingly from nowhere, he buzzes low and deep, a rare sign of the devil's irritation.

"Ingeo has delivered news to the Archbaron, who believes that you are trusted enough to be informed. It seems that the city of Kantaria has fallen to the Glorious Reclamation. The city has a long history as a pilgrimage site. The bitch goddess once ruled the city for a year and a day, as part of her long path of ascension. I believe House Thrune was keeping a close eye, knowing the Iomedaeans would seek to claim it - but it was done with guile and alacrity,  rather than with the violence and bloodhshed they expected. The leader of the revolution, Oppian Nevilindor, a fourth sword knight,  smuggled in numerous important figures, placed them strategically and then launched an almost bloodless round up of all known Thrune supporters. The only killing of note to be done was that of bound devils. The citizens are showing overwhelming support for the Reclaimers. Fex is making a strong appeal that you be sent to assist the Queen's Hand, Queen Abrogail's own personal investigators. If you've never heard of them, they are her team of very dangerous men and women who are defenders of the realm, but in a much more political sense. They have routed out countless would-be coups and rebellion plots. They will undoubtly need muscle to help cover the areas where their specialties do not." Razelago's buzzing becomes higher pitched. "Of course, this is all  contingent on approval from the Queen. If Fex gets approval, and you perform well under guidance from the Queen's Hand, it would greatly improve the station for us all. I would suggest doubling down on your efforts to find and kill this Angel Knight. It will be a major accomplishment if you succede, and may be what is needed to open more doors for your further advancement. Think on this, Fex will meet with you later to answer any questions you may have." Razelago shimmers briefly, before the image of him stretches vertically and he teleports away.

The Archbaron's Justice

Gregory Haylissh had suspected something dramatic might occur at the execution. Well, something even more dramatic than the execution itself. As he fled to the open doorway of Fenton's Butter Bakery, he acknowledged that he had not been disappointed. Ducking into the store with a half dozen other spectators who also had enough sense to get out of the way, he peered through the large glass window at the scene outside. Behind him, he could hear Fenton yelling and berating them for rushing into his store and not queuing up to make purchases. Gregory ignored the strangely accented man ad watched the scene unfold.

The Angel Knight was every bit as spectacular as Riley Kels has sung her to be. The ornate full plate, with gold trim on gleaming iron armor,  complete with a set of "wings". The placid face mask that was her iconic image. She reared back, issuing forth a challenge to the Archbaron's men, calling for the townsfolk to revolt and save their kinsmen.

'Valorous might be the word for it.' Thought Gregory to himself, blocking out the baker, Fenton, who yelled excitedly behind him. "She musn't know the Chellish people very well." Gregory believed that although the people of Longacre might be a bit more tight-knit than the citizens of other, more metropolitan cities, they were still Chellish at heart, and all too aware of the fate of rebels. Gregory knew that even in her fancy armor and majestic horse, she would be hard pressed to rally assistance so openly. More people scattered, a few joining Gregory in taking refuge in the baker's shop. Gregory's thick auburn eyebrows raised up and he stroked his beard absent-mindedly as six citizens of Longacre stayed behind, brandishing clubs, apparently ready to fight alongside the Angel Knight.

"Poor fools. Haven't the slimmest chance of survivin', even with all the luck of the pantheon behind them." he clucked to the people beside him, viewing the same scene.

'Silas Kimmer' Gregory identified to himself. The older man had his shillelagh in hand. His wife and succumbed to a lingering case of devil's chills.  Poor man must've grasped on to the Reclamation's propaganda as an excuse to keep on living. Silar charged forward swinging wildly at one of the town's new deputies, who easily deflected the blow with his armor, and stabbed Silas right in the chest. Gregory flinched in sympathetic pain.

In a flurry of feathers, Gregory watched as the tengu leapt and stabbed wildly at the Angel Knight, who directed her horse in a tight pull, dodging the blade. The attack was so precise and unexpected, and the Angel Knight's response was so lightning fast, Gregory felt a glimmer of hope that she might actually succeed.

Nikalus and Mitch Ernstrum - Brothers and two of the town's strong men were cut down by the time Gregory shifted his eyes back to the rioters. So quickly had it been done, he hadn't even seen who was responsible. 'Poor boys. Their ma' is going to take it hard. Probably kill her with grief.'  Gregory had known the boys all their lives. Himself being a young lad when they were born, they had been the second set of twins born in Longacre in as long as memory served, after Allamr's boys of course. Although not very bright, they were good natured, and always helped their neighbors in times of need.

Wyran Thrune had taken to the cobblestones now, his monstrous transformation well underway into...that thing that was quickly becoming a local boogeyman. Heavyhands, he believed it was being called. He stalked towards the Angel Knight, murderous glee in his eyes.

Mykrah Collins, Heath Cohen, and Pilka Meliri, dead with just a few strokes from the deputies. All those lives snuffed out with barely an effort. Even if they had managed to throw down the deputies, they never would have been able to stand against the fierce half-orc lancer Tsadok, or the trigger happy Azreal.

Gregory's mouth dropped wide in amazement, as did all the patrons in the bakery, even Fenton stopped his angry shouting in a wide gasp as the Angel Knight was knocked from her horse, and as Thrune...no, Heavyhands, lifted her up, the magical disguise washed away, revealing Riley Kels.

Few things really shocked Gregory, but this was a moment. 'Looks like we'll be having two hangings today.' he told himself.

Mayor's Manor

The Hunger gnawed at his soul. Not so much his belly, full of roasted wild hog and dry biscuits, but at the very core of his being. The big man tried to dull the ache with the sharpening of his battleaxe on the whetstone. He tried to find solace in that he had been able to recover the hide armor set and boots he had painstakingly crafted. The fact that even long after he had expelled them from his body, he still had some of his victims close brought a small level of comfort. But still he hungered...
"A copper for your thoughts?" she spoke softly, femininity oozed even in the few words she spoke. The Big Man looked up, his gaze having been drawn to the fire going on in the room's oversized fireplace×. More brightly colored than even a king's entire wardrobe, she stirred something in him that he thougt he had long ago forgotten. The Beautiful Woman, covered in multi-colored veils, undoubtly Varisian, with her mocha-copper colored skin and thick, curly hair. Her hazel eyes gazed into his, the color of iron. He tried not to look anywhere else when dealing with her. She revealed just enough flesh beneath her rainbow colored veils to keep him guessing,  and more than enough to stir his appetite.
My thoughts? I think I'd like to rut you like a dragon in heat, then tear at your throat like a starving worg, drink your blood like a thirsting vampire and devour your still warm body like a....
A high pitched laughter shattered his fragile concentration. The Old Gnome Woman never failed to grip his attention with that laugh. For the briefest of movements, he felt his heart tremble with fear, looking at the gnome with the moldy green hair, sitting in an appropriately sized rocking chair, covered by a quilt.
"Oh dearie, if you truly knew his thoughts, I think they'd make even you blush." She let out another fit of laughter, "Or flee in terror. No telling." Another round of laughter at her own humor, immediately ending without transition as her brow furrowed and she began muttering about 'those damn kids'.
"No thoughts." The Big Man grunted, not wanting to betray himself to the gnome. He was being payed good money, and there would be plenty to eat soon enough. Couldn't turn on his allies yet, no matter how delicious they looked. He turned back his focus to his axe.
"Well, I'll share my thoughts for free." the woman said, dramatically stepping up from the stiffback couch, and walking past the fireplace, over to The Quiet One and his pet Orangutan, who sat idlely beside him picking at his own hairy feet, his slave collar clinking lightly. "Between the ghost, laughing gnome, you and your strange obsession with your axe, the fucking twins, and the mute idiot and stupid monkey, I am sick of being here. There is nothing to do. I have all of this gold but can't leave to buy anything!" she yelled passionately,  walking back and forth in front of The Quiet One, her heels clicking loudly on the posh marble floor. The Quiet One said, barely above a whisper,  "I am not mute.  I just have nothing to say to you." he was a balding man, well into his 40s. Missing a few teeth, he looked more the part of a conscripted peasant, in his well-worn leathers, a simple club at his belt.
"Ghost?" said an Elven male who had appeared in a doorway, leaning against the threshold lackadaisicaly. His skin, an alabaster white, his hair the color of cotton. His blade, of pure silver glinted in the candle light. "I do get tired of hearing that. Very noncreative." his voice had an eerie resonance to it, barely noticeable, which made it that much more disquieting to the ear. "What about The Gentleman? You seemed quite taken by his charm. And you said nothing of..."
"Bah!" she waved him off with a sound of disgust. "He is less a real gentleman and more of an unhinged psychopath." she gave a flourish of her gloved hand as she paced, her body moving in ways pleasing to The Big Man. "Yes, m'lady. We are all psychopaths of the unhinged variety. That's why we were hired." said The Elven Ghost.  "I am NOT a psychopath!" The Beautiful Woman shouted. "I am a professional." she hugged herself, looking abashed at her outburst.
The Ghost changed the subject, "And what of the fucking twins? Has anyone seen either of them?" he asked, feigning interest in a small glass figurine on the mantle piece. "Upstairs. Fucking. Where else?" grunted The Big Man, taking a glimmer of happiness in being vulgar.
"All day...well if nothing else positive can be said for their depravity, at least they are comitted to their favorite activity.
The Elf's ears twitched slightly, the others noticed his head snap to attention, eyes facing the hallway leading to the front door.
"Is it Va-?" started to say the quiet man.
"No. Not even I would hear or see her if it was." the white elf responded,  knowing his suspicions. "Weapons out. Time to do what we're paid for."

Atonement

Cleric Lazzero Dalvera's room at the Arch and Lark is much as your own rooms, except the large dresser top has been converted to a makeshift shrine, with the unholy symbol of Asmodeus carved into it. Several red candles drip wax onto the furniture piece and an open book resides near the unholy symbol.

The man stands near the small window, bereft of his armor or shield, making him only slightly less intimidating. Having already explained the situation - Lazzero stood quiet for a few minutes.
"You swore an oath of nonviolence using your Hellfire oath as a binding? How very stupid of you." Lazzero says, putting a sneering emphasis on the word 'stupid'. "I am of a mind to leave you with this curse until Hell claims your soul. I believe that Asmodeus has guided me guided so that I might help you see the error of your ways, and make you an example to the rest of your friends. Fortunate for you, The devil Razelago was witness and courier for your compact. It is through him, that you will make ammends to Hell." Lazzero draws out a reddish stone unholy symbol streaked with veins of black ore and raises it up. "Kneel. Wyran of House Thrune, weakly mixer of colored waters and impure magic, you have transgressed against the 9 Hells themselves. Swearing upon that which is profane and binding, you knowingly broke said oath, in hopes of finding a way to circumvent both the spirit and letter of your promise. You recognize the error of your ways, the foolishness of your decisions and seek atonement that this curse be removed from you. As voicepiece for the Ruler of 9, Dark Lord Asmodeus, I speak with his power- Go to the zebub devil, Razelago, and unto him serve 6 days and 6 hours and 6 minutes of your leisured time, fulfilling any reasonable request he so demands of you, without compensation for your time." Lazzero lifts a leg, placing a boot against your shoulder and pushing you from kneeling to sprawled out on the floor. "Leave my presence now, Thrune. Be thankful that The Prince of Evil has granted you this mercy. Crawl from my room, worm." A palpable aura of evil and power surrounds Lazzero, having so recently channeled the will of a god.

Weekend Review

"Overall I am pleased with your success." says Archbaron Fex, looking at you with a slight smile. Behind him, Razelago stares focused on a map of Cheliax sitting at a child's sized table.
"However, mistakes were made. I have your weekly payment here," he says drawing out a satchel of gold for each of you. "100 pieces, as agreed upon. For dealing with Bolgart Caggan, I have added 50 more. This...'Cockroach King' would have been a repugnant ally to have relied on. I added 200 pieces for your efforts to eradicate him. Should he cause further problems in Longacre, I want you to eliminate him without expectation of further recompense. For maintaining good relations with the Vulture Crag mercenaries and not escalating hostilities, a further 50 gold each. Furthermore, I have been offered a grant from Egorian to request special supplies from the vaults of House Thrune, at the price of crafting.  I expect you to choose something that will assist you with your duties here. This..." he says, producing a thick book on to his desk and sliding it towards you, "is what they can offer."

"Now, to discuss your failures.  The killing of Mindy Parsons was a very poor way to handle a minor nuisance. The young girl was well liked by the locals. Bolgart Caggan was a difficult choice to make. By all witness accounts, the man was ready to fight to the death. The death of two of Staelish's men also did not go over well. Going forward, you will need to be more careful. Longacre is a small town, and word travels quickly. Even one more violent death and we may well find ourselves trying to put down a violent protest. If there is killing that needs to be done, it should be precise and serve a purpose.
Wyran, you said you have knowledge on who is respi sible for those flyers being distributed? See to it that they are captured. But first, it may serve us to borrow their method to send a more...inflamatory message, something more shocking, to turn opinion against them. Then, we arrest them. You agree, yes?" From his small sized table, Razelago lets out an irritated buzzing noise. "This will not do. Something will need to be done about Citadel Dinyar!"
"In time Razelago. In time. Wyran, you will need to see Lazzero Dalvera. I could help you with the problem your oath violation has caused, but the methods at my disposal are far less plesant. I hope you all learn a lesson about violating oaths so overtly. You are all dismissed. Send your damaged clothing to me after you have changed. I can mend them better than a seamstress, one of the benefits of specializing in conjuration magic. Keep up the good work."

As you turn to leave, the Archbaron says one last thing, "Oh, and do go handle the Castle Gate. It has been opened again"

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The morning of Day 8, Cimri introduces you to two new arrivals; Jarquez Vecken and Samroy Rawles, friends of hers from a not too far off logging camp. The two are going to be staying in town and will serve as the new official Sheriff and Deputy. After sizing them up, you get the sense that they are little more than a pair of goons. Not very bright, but tough, with a helping of practical common sense, and willing to follow orders.