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.