There was a distinct lack of paying attention to any possible statements about her mental well-being or rather lack of there off, but Kosara was generally listening to what all the others were saying. Well mostly anyways. She was listening and nodding as her companions in adventure spoke their takes on the situation at hand. A lot of valid concerns and ideas were raised, though there weren’t really solutions to be found by the looks of it. There simply wasn’t time or information present enough to form a complex plan. That said…

“I’m with Marita on this one, we should go with V’s grand show idea!” She stated with zeal and conviction.” As Martia suggests, we should bust the ambush. Break off their momentum, and the best part is, from the town’s center we can easily afterwards pivot towards our other destination, so we won’t even be slowing much really.” The tiefling woman tossed in her opinion and looked at the scimitar that was being held in her arms now. The seemingly golden handled weapon with a horse motif on the pummel. Her path was known, she knew it from the get go.” We should help people and in this case… helping people means defeating and probably killing bad people.” She stated quietly, eyes locked into the sword for a bit longer as she moved over and redid the light spell on Marita’s shield.” Praise the sun!” She quipped with a silly grin.

“So, what type of performance should we give them? V, know anything suitably grand and fast paced? It will be a most needed part of a grand show.” The dancer asked, eyes wandering over to the most fabulous of bards, before looking at Kathryn and Berry, contemplating something, but not saying anything before turning back to V.” I say we travel with music! Let people know and see, which is the point really, in fact...” With a quick spell being cast or rather a quick use of Prestidigitation Cantrip, a harmless shower of colorful sparks began falling around.” It’s time to perform and we cannot allow for us to not be in the limelight! Onward and we are off to meet the warlock! For Justice~!” She pointed out down the road and began to skip onwards with merry dancing step, a shower of colorful sparks along the way because naturally.

BlackBerry chewed his cheek and listened to the others discuss their next steps. Frustratingly, it seemed that it wasn't even their choice at this point with their enemies holding all the cards; dictating the time, place, and even now the manner of their arrival. He adjusted his robes in thought, and then rested on the pommel of his sword. They had collectively missed a prime opportunity somewhere along the way, and he personally missed one to properly prepare himself, and now here it was now, metaphorically and physically, biting them in the backside.

He listened to Maritas explanation of the situation which did fill in a few more details than Kosaras had done. The fact there was some sort of bargain on the table had been completely missed before, and revealed a whole new angle to consider. But Maritas talk of previous training did assure him somewhat. But with Lady Kathryn pointing out the possibility of more archers than last time he found himself feeling just the same; being more suited to close quarter fighting than anything.

"Sometimes the simplest solution is the best."

Despite the dire and very real danger of the circumstances, despite the looking dread twisting his stomach into a frenzy, BlackBerry found a wicked grin splitting his face with Kosaras giddy, vengeful glee infecting him as well. The remaining calm parts of him quickly pointed out Kosaras plan to go marching through the town with a glowing sword and music would only point an even larger target on their backs, and their current target was already large enough if they were getting letters. Their current plan sounded daring, exciting, and full of opportunities to give those ruffians a damn good taste of their own medicine. He turned to face Marita, at this point seeing her as leading the party in this endeavor.

"As stealth seems out of the question, perhaps a March playing would be suitable, like the heroes and armies of old going off to battle? Show the ruffians that despite it all we shall not bow beneath them." The idea was as absurd as it was dangerous, but he let the thought go with a shrug and then pointed to the darkness where the Rat had scurried off to. "And at this point I fail to see how it would make our location any less known."

He took a few steps after Kosara so he was no longer under the swing and what little safety it may have offered against the darkness. However, he would wait for the others to make their move as well before heading after Kosara, not wanting to leave her or he himself be left entirely exposed and alone.

Weather: The cold and fog are unrelenting, condensing breath into visible exhalations. It is not freezing as of yet, but long sleeves and thick fabrics are generally preferred by the majority.

Time: It is nighttime. The night is yet young, and so far eventful.

Ambience: The sound of water escaping into the Township's drainage system has finally come to a halt. Damp streets are the norm with some points of puddling, though these are blissfully few. The sound of things scurrying remains far enough away not to be an immediate threat. That said, it is still close enough to hear, if barely. The extent of mundane vision fades into dark, clouded obscurity in front and behind. The buildings are clear enough, and each of them are shuttered and barred up as possible. Deathly quiet appears to be the phrase of the hour, and everyone seems to be practicing it with gusto.

Almost everyone. Evidence of an ongoing barbecue/marathon meat smoking session floats upon the air. Inferences concerning the mental stability of these people is up for debate




Caution thrown to the wind like an errant champagne cork at a royal wedding, the group strode purposefully, perhaps even a little foolishly, in the general direction of what might be their destiny - the beginning or the end remaining to be seen - with a tune in the air, steel in their hands, and even a respectable light show. The combined abilities of these base acquaintances, bought together by happenstance and some amount of chicanery involving suspicious written invitations, were but a handful of moments away from being put to their first test in real teamwork. An onlooker might, as their title suggests, look upon this mishmash of outsiders and come to the conclusion that their spirits and determination were both high indeed, and that they were the only saviors to be had on this dark and hope-starved Harvestide.

There were a few relatively brave souls who cracked open a shutter just enough to peer through a minuscule slit, catching a glimpse of the adventuring troupe as they passed by. No words of support nor cheers were to be heard, however. No one wished to draw attention upon themselves. Perhaps this was pragmatism more than cowardice; these people had been through quite a bit, of which they could not openly speak out of ignorance or fear of their own safety from a dark and mysterious threat which had just been unmasked. There were spouses to think of. Children. Friends and neighbors that might have suffered. Even a sliver of hope or promise that the evil would be done with them soon was too tempting not to simply accept.

Traveling west upon the thoroughfare was the fastest, most direct route to the fountain bearing town square, and from there it was a very short way to the Municipal Building. Point of fact, the only actual path to this location meant that one was compelled to pass through the town square first, as it was basically attached to the north by means of extending, laid cobblestone. Unless one wanted to test out their ability to scale vertical surfaces or experiment with mass displacing exothermic reactions, in any case.

Coming up to this place, one could clearly see glowing orange light making things easier to make out. The trees surrounding the square did much to filter back the source of this light, but forward progress revealed more, the more they continued toward their confrontation. A horizontal bar of fitted bricks replaced the cobblestones of the thoroughfare, marking on the edge of this locale before returning to more cobblestone, stretching clearly to the fountain in the center and beyond to the boundaries of the place. There were changes made to the square since the party's last visit: Benches, carts, stalls, and the like were removed. Little trace of the festival remained, no decorations left intact to be seen. A mostly clear view remained with a few notable exceptions.

For starters, the glow of orange light came from several containers that looked a lot like pitch barrels with their tops pried off and set aflame. Said barrels burned intensely and gave off very adequate illumination to see every part of what lay inside of the treeline, while simultaneously obscuring anything beyond. They were arranged to stand in front of the paved paths leading out of the square. While not enough to prevent one from simple darting to the side of them, it was something of a scalding obstacle. Two more stood on either side of the eastern path, conveniently allowing one (or more than one) to walk past and enter.

Perhaps most striking to appear in this place are two cages fashioned of wooden planks and simple fittings. They were large enough to hold several people and, as fate may decree it, they most certainly did. The whimpering sounds of their protest picked up as the group entered the light, including one clearer, familiar voice crying out, "No! Run! Get my niece away from here!"

Another voice seemed to agree with her, shouting, "Mornin'! Nice day for fishin', ain't it?" with notable alarm. An arm, belonging to this last voice, could be seen desperately reaching between the bars of the enclosure for a long, stout fishing pole just out of reach outside.

They were not the only ones inside of these cages. There were a handful each of local folk within, some gripping the bars while others tested the strength of the fittings, hoping for some unnoticed means to gain their freedom. Mostly human, but like the population of Avonshire generally, a couple of Halflings were observed near to the bars, wide-eyed and uncertain of their future.

Behind the flaming pitch barrels a voice, strong and arrogant of tone, hushed the others around. "Good of you to meet my terms. AND you're early. I do appreciate promptness. So, Option A: You set my hammer down on the rim of the fountain, and make me believe your apology. We... will talk about who's leaving after these things are done to my satisfaction." Obviously, this is Cavendish. Though behind the fire, he seems elevated somehow as if standing on something for better vantage. This does not stop him from stooping down with a mutter of, "There you are, Chauncey. You're late." He then brings himself back to full elevation, holding a recently familiar rat in one hand. His other hand produces a talisman, and the rat evaporates into the ether.

While it is difficult to see much beyond the flames, the reddish glow of two sets of eyes beyond where Cavendish stands become apparent. He is not alone at his position, though seemingly with less backup than your last meeting.

In solid truth, Victoria would have greatly preferred stealth. Part of a grand performance was making a grand entrance, after all. Or a memorable one, at least. Even for those wishing to rush in before their antagonists could properly raise defenses and overwhelm (which Victoria considered a fine tactic as she was not great in prolonged hostilities), arriving unnoticed was, objectively, preferable. But here they were, embarking upon what might very well have been a fool's errand, led by a dancing Tiefling who left a trail of arcane sparks in her wake.

"In for a penny," she mumbled, shouldering her violin and bringing its bow up to replace her sword. If surprised with something that required her defense, this still left her able to cast a spell. Being a Bard had its benefits. Besides, she had a song to finish. She shrugged and summoned up a wisp of arcane power as bow met strings, a single note cascading into several as the illusory sounds of rhythmic accompaniment complemented the strength and melody of her preferred instrument.

As she fell into graceful, dexterous step, dancing with flowing footwork in the direction of their coming conflict, Victoria let the violin pause, allowing dulcet lyrics to replace with their own melody. She did, after all, have that song to finish:

"Only a sword in our hand but
We enter the lion's den;
We're not waiting for a war -
We bring the war to them."

The violin resumed, its notes precisely building with rising action before a sudden cut and the emphasis of a last lyric:

"We bring the war to them."

All the while, Morty kept to her heel, looking especially animated and even rather optmistic for a dead swine, dutifully bound to its bardic mistress. Remarkably, nothing sought their demise on their walk to the town square. The remaining instrumental portion of the song grew and came to a dramatic finish, shortly before the fog was parted by pitch barrel fires and the sudden openness of their destination.

The expectation coming into this was battle, and as Victoria was not the first choice of front liner unless the situation was a touch non-standard, the Bard kept sharp eyes about her, listening to the Constable speak. She mentally prepared to fit the jigsawed pieces that she and her animated companion represented into the party's overall puzzle that was to be this skirmish.

Off to war they went. Though she wasn't the most experienced in combat, she had faced off against goblins and bandits a few times prior to joining the party. None of those situations compared to the caution she needed to exercise against the constable and his goons. Though a direct assault had some more risks, she was a bit relieved to be going this route. It was what she was most familiar with, and the type of environment she thrived in. Assuming she didn't get knocked flat on her ass again, or get caught out of position. Marita's comments on the constable seemed accurate enough. He played his battles with tricks and fear. Showing Cavendish that they would not bend to his will may help the party deal with him. She hoped at least. "So we hit him head on. We've already showed him we can go toe to toe with him and his goons, and I'm sure he'll remember that when we arrive." She also hoped that maybe she could talk down some of his goons, get them to back off until the fighting was over and deal with them afterwards. Kosara's point about being in the center of town was also valid, anywhere they decided to go afterwards they would be close, and be able to get there in short time. She had offered a chance for them to back down, and they declined. Kathryn was ready to end the life of any who had gotten in her way of saving those who were taken, and take those that survive into whatever form of custody was left within town when they were done.

"Shame we don't have marching drums. I always thought those were pretty cool. Cavendish shall know we're coming in with confidence none the less." As they moved on, Kosara began her light show, and Victoria played her music. It pumped her up, and it did help regain her confidence in the situation. Not that it had faltered, but she had her concerns. She had to remind herself, they had already defeated him once. They could do so again. Before arriving to the town center, Kathryn walked up beside Marita and offered her the silvered dagger. "I think I got enough weapons. And a few backups. Take it, just in case." Kathryn offered softly to the Cleric. She wouldn't push if she didn't want the dagger, but after she gave hers to Lizbeth Kathryn figured a new dagger could be helpful. She wouldn't miss a dagger. She had the hammer, her silvered axe, and a short sword still. Plus a non silvered axe, and her family's clan sword. And a short bow with the arrows it came with. And her pack. She was definitely well equipped.

Kathryn turned to give a friendly wave to those who dared to look outside. In her rusted, dented, and worn armor, she hoped the gesture wouldn't come across as hostile. But she had no way to be sure. And at this moment, she needed to focus on the mission at hand. Her helm would stay on for now, and her shield equipped. Kathryn noticed the flames first. As they grew brighter, and brighter. The cleared town square reminded her of arena grounds Ser Lucas had attempted to make money in after they had fled Arcanaple. Instead of an audience wanting to see blood of the fighter spilled, it was an audience of tall trees, looking down on the party as they stepped in. In the VIP seats, the hostages. Cecily included. Then Constable Cavendish and what remained of his goons. The eye slits on Kathryn's helmet locked with the constable as she walked in, almost golem like as she found her place to make her stand. "Your niece is safe. And she'll be even safer when we are done here." Kathryn said, a dark undertone in her voice as her polite demeanor was replaced with her professional warrior posture. She watched the constable, and took note of his guards around him. There were less of them, she hoped that meant their friend had not been discovered. She would still have to deal with him later, but she would take a crack at it when she had the chance. Added with that, he didn't seem to have anyone to replace the lost goon.

Kathryn took a few steps forward, away from the fountain, and making sure to put her person in the front of the party. Whenever Cavendish unleashed whatever trick he had for them, it would have to path it's way through Kathryn to do harm to the party. When Cavendish finished his proposal, Kathryn eyed the group of former town guards as if debating something really stupid. But she couldn't help it, she wasn't a fan of the idea of caving in someone's skull without giving them a chance to back down. "Option B." Kathryn spoke coldly. "Those of you with any moral compass left to your name, who care for what is right and wrong, or those of you with any sense of self preservation, now is your chance to back down, and prepare yourselves for surrender when we're done here." Kathryn took a deep breath, deciding how she wanted to phrase her statement. She wasn't the best at this, and she worried she would regret not running this by someone who was when she was done. "Keep in mind, the battlefield is bloody. And last time you lot had a lot of advantages. Last time we had doubts about your allegiances, last time you got the first strike in. Last time you had a chance at a second surprise, and failed to utilize it effectively. Last time we were poorly equipped, and split up. Last time initiative was yours. And last time, you had another in your ranks, who is no longer with you." Kathryn said matter of factly. "This time, you have whatever trick you have up your sleeve, and when we get past it we'll deal with you lot, our patience spent." She made sure to turn her head to lock her eye slits with the guards other than Cavendish. "I've seen how you react when Cavendish wields this hammer. You were concerned for what would happen to you once it was used. And that was in this goon's hands." She said pulling the hammer, and pointing it at Cavendish. "A man who is supposedly on your side. If I bring it down on you, it'll be with intent to kill. This time, I'm not going to be flat on the ground for you to stab away at. But you will be if you last longer than a couple hits." She paused when she lowered the hammer. "So option B: Back down while you lot still have the chance. Whatever advantage you think you have has much less a leg to stand on then last time. And you're running out of room to run away." Kathryn emphasized the municipal building behind their foes with the hammer in hand.

She hoped she got her point across. She wasn't sure if she could really get through to them, but she had to hope. Bring the odds a little more in their favor. Maybe they could collect information from one of them sooner rather than later. It was clear Cavendish had a big part in this, if not leading it himself. But she wanted answers for all the pieces of this puzzle. Each and every one. She had doubts Cavendish would share anything with them once they defeated him, but maybe one of his goons would be more cooperative?

Marita moved quickly to take a position near the front. Kosara was bouncing ahead and there wasn't much she could do about that beside run ahead which was not a good move. It felt like the most sensible position for her. Kathryn was the obvious frontliner, and although Marita wasn't the best at taking hits, she was in much heavier armor than the rest of the party. Victoria and definitely Kosara were better served not being in the line of fire. She could only hope the tiefling would move out of the open when it came time to actually fight. BB was quite large and maybe those scales offered a decent amount of protection, but he gave off similar vibes as Hugh and that didn't give her the most confidence in his durability.

Wordlessly, she took the dagger Kathryn offered her and tucked it into her belt. It likely wouldn't be very useful in full combat since her newly silvered mace was a much better weapon, but if she found herself disarmed, it would be a very handy sidearm. However, that wasn't her reason for taking it. She found herself missing the dagger as soon as she read the letter from Cavendish, and it was quite fortunate that their half giant supplied her with another without even being prompted. If they managed to take Cavendish out of commission without him fleeing or dying, she was going to use that dagger to get answers out of him. And then, she'd make sure that it'd make him pay for his sins. That bit of fun would have to wait until later.

The timing of things were rather inconvenient. She'd prefer to cast Bless before they went into combat in case there were more anti-spellcaster crossbowmen hidden somewhere, but from the way things seemed to be going, it would run out before they had the chance to utilize the blessing to its full potential. She also wanted to wordlessly ignore anything the bastard had to say and walk up to him and cave his ribcage in, but Kathryn had other plans. Her speech to try dissuading Cavendish's lackeys was commendable but would likely bare no fruit. Still, she let the lordess have her say as she looked around the field and studied the cages. Perhaps they were frail enough for them to smash open. She couldn't really tell, and given the situation, it wasn't in their best interest to try such a stunt. Perhaps if she had inhuman strength like Kathryn, but as it were, it was best to focus on what was ahead of them.

Arrival at their destination, through the dark wet streets and the occasional onlookers from behind barred and closed windows and doors took a little bit of time as expected, but Kosara joyfully led the journey ever on! Dancing step after dancing step, practically gliding and bouncing. It was a full dancer really, but a step here and a step there, light bounce every now and then to keep the pace and energy going!

When they finally arrived, Kosara noted the drab surroundings. Gone were the entertaining and mood lifting props of the festival. All that remained at this place were a bunch of pitch barrels and two cages with people. Some of whom she recognized like Cecilly and of course the jolly fisherman that appeared to only know one sentence and Kosara didn’t mind at all! She gave them a wave and a smile, before her eyes glided over, focusing and the target of ire, Cloverdash! He was hiding behind the fiery barrels… you know… like a coward! Or maybe he was one of those moth things she was hearing about every now and then?

Sure enough Kathryn proceed to give a knightly heroic speech about giving them an option to run away. She blinked at the warrior woman and pouted at her, before looking at the beings across the fire barrels. She could only recognize ol Cloverwish and some other sets of eyes. She had the feeling it was monsters… or monsterfied thugs. Or maybe it was ratmen again. The pale white haired tiefling aimed her sword at Cavendish’s direction with a flourish.” Big words coming from a person hiding behind a wall of fire! What’s more… are you standing on one of the barrels to appear bigger?” She asked, using thaumaturgy to make her voice boom 3 times as loud as she did!” Shame on you, Cloverdash! You should be protecting these people! Not use them for whatever nefarious purposes you are thinking of or being ordered to! Come here to take your punishment like a man and maybe then we can talk afterward!” She proclaimed with her loud booming voice that probably reached a good bit further than normal given it’s magical boost. She was eyeing the shapes behind the barrels and was trying to figure out if they were close enough to said barrels that if she blasts one of them, they will get caught in the explosion of burning pitch. Though she also spared the cage a few more glances, wondering if a good Celestial Blast can burst it open. She might be forced to give that plan a go very soon. Cause she doubted Cloverdash would surrender. No she was certain that in true heroic tale fashion, he will fight because he is the bad guy in the current events.

Despite not being what BlackBerry had imagined a Soldiers March to sound like, not that he had ever heard one before, Victorias music did wonders for his mood and bolstered his confidence. He would have to ask Lady Kathryn or Marita about it later once this horrid business had been taken care of. But the music still did its job of bolstering his confidence and he tried not to put on his best guess to a Soldiers March, but it was hard not to with Lady Kathryn and Marita nearby as the pair made a fine display in their armour marching ahead of him down the empty streets.

But all too soon they arrived and Victoria brought her song to an end, leaving only the flickering of the flames and the cries from the hostages to fill in the space.

He took position to the outer left of the group, hovering by Maritas shoulder, and cast his eyes and head about in quick, sharp movements trying to get a better lay of the land as Lady Kathryn and Kosara spoke their piece up at Cavendish. The latter somehow being much louder than usual.

BlackBerry wouldn’t describe himself as a strategist by any stretch, but he knew his strengths as a close range fighter, even when going against beings immune to being stabbed through the gut and so had no desire to fight any bowmen again anytime soon. To him the best course of action would be to rush Cavendish, put him down quickly like the rat he was, and take care of his followers if needs be. The barrels of fire caused him the most worry if they were to be knocked over, the fire could spread to either the cages or to the surrounding trees. Beyond that though he couldn’t see much else beside the two pairs of eyes glowing, glaring at them all from behind the barrels Cavendish had stood in front of.

“No other souls about. Just the two ruffians hiding behind him.” He muttered out the side of his mouth to the others. “I think this is all he has.”

He sunk down slightly on his hips, preparing himself for the inevitable fight, and locked his gaze squarely on the pair hiding behind the flames.

What little of Cavendish which can be glimpsed from above the flames takes on an arrogant posture, complete with smug, knowing expression on his face. He snorts out a derisive laugh, this being the only attention he paid to Kosara's taunts. His voice flares once more with authoritative glee as he otherwise ignores the Tiefling and addresses the bearer of his hammer, though not exclusively. The Constable's speech carries to all present. "You are sadly mistaken. I was very clear in my letter. Not only are refusing the conditions, you are acting like disrespectful children. And like children, you shall be punished."

The bestial, reddish light reflected from the eyes of the guards with Cavendish made lateral movements toward each other, as if their owners shared a glance between themselves. Their already indistinct forms stepped back a foot or two into further obscurity, and while crossbows were raised, a touch of nervous uncertainty played about their collective movements.

"NOW," boomed the Constable, his voice unnaturally augmented to carry far and assault the ears of those in close proximity, "I shall show you what the MY Option B entails!" A hollow, syrupy clatter sounded from behind the party as one of the flaming pitch barrels upended, spilling its contents in an arcing path across the thoroughfare the party had just crossed. Cavendish's features contorted and dissolved into the red eyes and coarse fur, teeth elongating into something rodentlike yet dire and monstrous, his face pushing itself out into a wire-whiskered snout. Wiry hands gripped a vicious looking shortsword, which he now pointed directly down the center of the square, not in a threatening manner at anyone, but oddly toward the murky and fire-reflective surface of the fountain. "The culmination of our work in this depressing hole of a worthless township! RISE! RISE AND DISMEMBER THE PRISONERS ALIVE! DESTROY ANYONE OR ANYTHING THAT TRIES TO STOP YOU!"

Screams erupt from the cages as voices once silenced by shock or fear break open in utter, discordant terror surpassing that which could have been inflicted by a mere lycanthropic transformation in their presence. From the cage opposite of the one holding Cecily and the fisherman, the familiar voices of Lea and Daisy from the public house (among a handful of others) join the horrific chorus. Some begin babbling incoherently, weeping and throwing themselves against their cages on the side opposite of the one facing the square. The fisherman himself continues, now frantically, to reach his pole just out of reach through the his cage, more fervently yelling, "G'mornin'!"

The reason for their hysteria is obvious:



Two great beasts rose from the now fetid water of the fountain; creatures of corded muscle and sinew built from close but mismatched pieces, stitched together with waxy strings. The components which comprise their physicality look to have come from the corpses of many massive anthropomorphized rodents; humanoid rat pieces fused together with magic and crude sutures to form a grisly, musclebound, grotesque creature with sharpened, rat-like teeth, dripping with water as they place gnarled, taloned feet upon the edge of the fountain en route to their intended targets.

His gaze spun backwards to see one of the barrels behind them all collapse and unleash a wall of fire, blocked off the road they had arrived through. Their escape, and for the hostages as well, had been cut off. BlackBerry swore. Another commotion, this time from the fountain, demanded his attention just in time to see two disgusting forms pull themselves out of the fountain. It was almost hilarious to see their grate forms emerge from the relatively medium sized fountain. Water dripped off the beasts disgusting forms as they rose out of the fountain.

What obscene acts had Cavendish been doing to produce such creatures?

Instinct blared warning bells in his mind, demanding he turn and flee from the putrid smell rolling off the beast. Instead, he took hold of that fear, that frantic energy burning through his veins, and pushing himself forward. He slipped between Marita and Morty, charging forwards to put himself next to Kosara and between the creatures and the Hostages. His back to Cavendish and his guards.

“Stay back!” He snarled at the beast.

Mid-step, he tapped into the familiar feeling of churning power at his core. He pulled and pushed that power out across his shoulders where fire bloomed into loose, wreathing columns sculpting themselves into shape. A force flung out towards the vile beasts but only one seemed to be hit, the force passing harmlessly through the other. Without a second to waste he continued his surge forward, right foot cracking down on the cobbles, using the momentum from his mad dash, twisting at the hips to drive a fiery fist into the beast.

The limb connected with the beast with a satisfying thud, but devoid of any reaction from the beast. More warning bells rang in his mind. BlackBerry snatched back the limb, right foot snapping back half a step also, and looked up into the eyes of the beast. It’s eyes were entirely red and gazing down at him without thought. The beast had been hit and he was certain he had left a mark on it as well. But the beast in front of him simply did not care.

“What is this thing?” He asked, casting a look to Kosara for an answer or at least some support. His confident snarl wavering.


@Sigil guard 1's turn!!

The first Guard wasted no time in shifting his form, mixing elements of rodent with his original Human form. The change originated with his master's, though the latter seemed to pour into his form with greater ease then the former. The shift into its hybrid form did not appear to affect worn clothing, armor, nor equipment, seeing as it was not an appreciable increase in bulk; nevertheless the Guard's ability to menace seemed to have gotten a boost, as well as its powers of perception.

This observational increase would come as a boon when it got around to the fray, but this was not quite yet to be. No, even as the uncertainty of the Guard's actions were before (tiny details of body language that remained even in this monstrous form), ground was held and the crossbow in hand loaded. Said weapon was readied as dull red eyes reflected firelight, darting about in apparent search of something or in wait of some cue to utilize the gifts of its martial training. Action Readied, the Wererat Guard bid its time, set to react to something as yet unrevealed.

@Dragoknighte Marita is up! Get ye to Clericing!

All the speeches and quips went about as well as Marita had expected. What she hadn't expected was for two fleshcrafted abominations to emerge from out of the fountain. They were so grotesque and uncanny that instantly the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her stomach turned, adrenaline rushing through her body much faster than if the threat had been nearly anything else. The positive was that it appeared that she was able to react faster than almost anyone else on the scene, but she would much rather not be in this situation in the first place.

The second issue was that she was at a bit of an impasse on what exactly to do. Ideally, she would be able to bestow a blessing upon the others and get a Spiritual Weapon set up, but her eyes darted over the guards and sure enough, at least one of them had a crossbow ready to fire, presumably for the same anti-magic purposes of the encounter they'd had previously. She wasn't keen on getting shot at yet, so she'd wait until the situation was better understood before using any spells.

The other thing she immediately wanted to do was Turn these undead which would at least buy them some time of not having to worry about the behemoths, but in addition to the issue of the crossbowmen there was another thing that kept Marita from brandishing her holy symbol in the name of fighting the unliving. She had promised Victoria just a couple of days ago that she'd avoid messing with her own necromancy, and Morty was right over there. The poor pig would get caught in the crossfire so to speak.

In the end, the cleric grit her teeth and just rushed at the closer meat puppet that BB had already engaged with. His attack didn't seem to affect it too much, which was to be expected of undead, but maybe silver would produce more of an effect. She swung her mace directly into the thing's ribcage, and she felt it give some, but the impact felt off. It wasn't like the healing effect living wererats had exhibited previously, but more like the attack barely did anything. This was all very important information to know, so she worked through the lump in her throat to call out to the others.

"Blunt weapons seem ineffective, maybe blades will do better! Victoria, I'd keep Morty away from me if possible!"

@Sigil Vicky's turn

"Aw, you used his name!" exclaimed Victoria, her face a vision of faux doe-eyed appreciation while getting in a little, good-natured dig at Marita's expense. If ever there was a time to appear frivolous, or at least reckless, it would be while facing down a pair of eldritch abominations commanded by a Wererat Warlock while surrounded by fire. And the fact that she half-heartedly insinuated that the Law Cleric might be starting to get sweet on a lesser undead manifestation gave her an internal giggle. Not that she expected anyone to take the implication seriously. It was just funny to her.

Jocularity aside, the Bard was here for serious work, which she set about to with the utmost of dedication. Dedication to her craft placed her with a compulsion to perform, even in these circumstances, and so she did. Her rapier was quickly replaced with a violin bow, the instrument itself resting beneath her chin like it belonged there. A single shrill note issued from the movement of hair across string, amplified and given complexity by the body of the violin and the dexterous fingers of the Half-Elf playing. The note grew in intensity until it seemed to separate from Victoria's immediate area, echoing in a location behind the Abominations and becoming a violent force in the air. The radius of this circle of growing calamity found the creatures at its edge, positioned as to barely leave out Victoria's teammates. A sharp sound then issued, like the splintering of a great slab of ice, as cracks of damage formed instantaneously across the skin of those monstrous creatures bound to cause the prisoners harm.

Yes, she had risked a spell. But if the Guards were about to fire on someone, logic dictated that they attempt to target someone harder to hit, like a Bardy type who was difficult to target because of the other people in the way.

The single note continued, though without the color of evocative magic upon it. Instead, it transitioned into other notes, one building upon the other, and upon the other, until after the first few quick ones a song could be picked out. It was a trifle of a ditty she had picked up some long time back, not ordinarily useful in her work but perhaps with some merit now. It was titled, to those familiar with it, "Daughter of Arcanaple". Kathryn had mentioned that she was from there, and also looked ready to inflict something potentially very uncomfortable upon the bad guys. It made sense to give her a mote of Inspiration, as only her kind could do. Victoria began to away and step in line with the song, pacing a bit while music flowed freely from her.

Morty, to his continuing credit, kept to Victoria's heel, operating under the last standing order given to it.



@Remipa Awesome Kathryn is up next. And has a 1d6 Inspiration die. Huzzah!

Kathryn chuckled at Kosara's comment about Cavendish. She had seen people try to use size to intimidate others her whole life, and she had met few who tried on those smaller than themselves. And generally all Kathryn had to do was walk into the room to humble the ego of someone making a scene. Offer something nice to drink to the parties involved, and remind everyone who needed reminding, that violence wasn't in their favor. Kosara also stated Kathryn's thoughts on the matter well. The constable had a job to do, and not only had he failed it, he was going out of his way to be the thing his people needed protection from. Such a crime could never go unpunished. Though Kathryn did jump a little bit hearing the tiefling's voice boom. She didn't think so much sound could come out of such a small woman. "Don't worry Kosara, he'll take his punishment like the coward he is once we're done with him." Though Kathryn was one for justice done by governing bodies, if justice had to be dealt out with blunt force trauma, so be it. She had put down others like him before, and though she wasn't a fan of torture, she held little reservations for body counts. Thinking about it though, Cavendish wasn't like the others she had confronted in the past. She had battled kobolds, goblins, human bandits, but she had never faced on a town guard formally equipped with magic weapons.

When Baronfjord made a comment about his guards, Kathryn noticed the numbers too. "Another got away no? Be prepared, they may be waiting in the treeline for a chance to ambush. Or pull off some other trick." When Cavendish replied to her attempts to limit the damage, he had seemed to snack. Kathryn gave a small chuckle at the being children comment. Coming from the one shirking his responsibilities for personal power? She knew children with better honor then that. His followup comments had more to be concerned about. Kathryn heard the drops of water before she saw the beasts. The droplets splashing onto her helm as she turned to see the two giant beasts. They were... Nothing she had ever expected. Targeted for the people between her and Cavendish. As soon as things kicked off, an urge crossed Kathryn's mind. Charge Cavendish now, send him into the dirt, and maybe the beasts would stop being responsive. But if she was wrong, there would be less in their path to attack the prisoners. If she failed not only would her party be down a person, Cavendish would have his hammer back. No, the beasts would have to be dealt with first.

Marita and Blackberry had struck first. Hammering into the creature who seemed to care not what damage it took. She took note the guard's did nothing. Were they waiting for something to happen? A chance for their backs to turn? In Kathryn's thought she almost missed Marita's comment about how the creatures may be able to take more punishment from blunt force, Kathryn was in a pickle. Her family sword may have done the trick, but it wasn't silvered. She held off trying to keep old traditions. She had no idea if these creatures were immune to regular weapons as well, and she wasn't sure she was in a position to check that. If the hammer seemed ineffective, she'd still have the silvered axe. That would be something, and she was still good with it. And, she could politely give that to Cavendish as well. She hoped he wasn't picky on what Kathryn gifted him.

Though blunt force seemed to not be as effective, Kathryn figured she had to try for something here. She hoped the magic powers embedded into this weapon would be enough, or that her skill in combat could do enough damage that even being resistant wouldn't be enough. As she prepared her attack, she heard a tune she hadn't listened to in many a year. "Daughter of Arcanaple" wasn't something she had heard since she still lived in a keep, the emotional surge that came hearing music of her homeland inspired Kathryn. She felt just enough of a boost to establish her confidence in the fight. When they won, she would have to ask Victoria where she heard the tune.

She was not in a position to stop both creatures. She simply wasn't fast enough. But one creature had already been beaten down a bit, maybe if they were able to dish out enough punishment, they could all focus down on the last one before turning their attention. She returned a knowing look to Cavendish and his goons through the slits of her helmet. Reminded them of her words before she maneuvered around Blackberry with elegance not normally shown by the half giant, nearly oaf. As she moved she swung the hammer hard with all her might into the torso of the undead looking beast. Though it does not react to pain, and the attack didn't emotionally phase the creature in any noticeable way, she felt the crushing force as the hammer made contact. A force that any smaller or weaker creature would walk away with bones broken, flesh bruised beyond repair, and enough force to send it back to the cobblestone. She doubted the creature held any resistance to the punishing force she dished out. She ended her attack by sliding her feet into position on the other side of Blackberry shield raised, and hammer posed to strike. Her body now in the path that this creature would have to take should it want to advance any further, and hopefully holding it in place. Also allowing her to strike either beast should they be able to keep it still.

@Sigil The X2 may retaliate now.

The various degrees of damage inflicted upon the creature did absolutely nothing to change its disposition, nor indeed even demonstrate a solitary trace of annoyance. Red eyes gleamed and flickered in the chaotic, encompassing glow of the many fires around them, and fists clenched into ham-sized bludgeons - still not indicative of an emotional response more than a basic reaction to environment and readying the most efficient action for the task to which it was ordered. With a speed unexpected from its lumbering form, it righted itself and pushed it legs up, regaining full, towering height.

The stitched-together beast grasped its hands into one huge shape, and swung this meaty thing like a horizontal pendulum at the most recent person to do it harm - Kathryn. A loud, hollow THWACK followed solid and painful connection with her armor, but the force of this blow penetrated too deeply for the mail or shield to be of much assistance.

It might have made another retaliatory strike, but a clear path to its original target had just opened up. The great rat-thing continued its lumbering path toward the nearest wooden cage and let another attack loose - this one near to destroying one of the thick, wooden beams which formed the enclosure. Lea, Daisy, one of the women of the Honey Barn as well as others within the cage screamed in absolute terror.

Kathryn has taken 13 points of bludgeoning damage.




Far be it for the good Constable to keep himself out of the fun generally, but this instance had him grinning a bit in anticipation of what was likely, in his mind, to occur in front of his eyes in the net minute or two. If he had a paper sack full of popped sorghum, he'd be munching on it right then. Then again, it is difficult to pick out a smile on the face of a hybrid form Wererat, which might just demonstrate the amount of glee he possessed at the time. Truly, there was something rattling about in the back of his skull; an idea formed but not quite realized. Yet.

At the same time, these people had the benefit of ranged attack magic. This was noted during their first encounter and was learned from, hence part of the reason to play about with the multiple light sources amid dense fog at night. Spoils darkvision as well as normal sight past a certain distance. And if you played with it just right...

The fire directly in front of Cavendish suddenly roared higher and brighter. The good news was that the field of combat was more brilliantly lit toward the northern section of the square. The bad news was that little to nothing could be spotted behind it. Even the reflective red eyes of the Myanthropes were encompassed by this sudden shift of light and dark. The change was heralded by a short but dramatic, chanting exclamation from the Constable. Once the flames obscured, he was quick to follow up with, "I wish you the best of luck with my new pets, interlopers. You might recognize pieces of them, depending upon how long you've been in town. I'll be back to scrape what's left of you in a bin when they're done." Laughter which bordered on the maniacal sounded from behind the flames.




The creature did not beam with a light of intellect, nor even one of careful planning. However, it was big, strong, and dedicated to a single purpose as outlined by the one which gave it orders: Dismember the prisoners alive. A pause could be taken to do awful things to anyone trying to stop it, which looked like (for the most part) that curious Dragonborn with the glowy, semi-disembodied arms. As it turned out, this monster was capable of taking part in a little bit of both.

One event gave the sewn-together abomination something of a pause - or at least what might be considered a pause if it was sapient and mindful - was the sudden flareup of the pitch barrel. It averted its gaze for less than a half-second before resuming the gruesome work of wholesale slaughter which was its intended purpose. The astute observer might have noticed the same from the creature which had already found its way to the cage.

In any case, its red but passionless eyes locked with Baronfjord, and it threw a particularly devastating blow that resembled a sloppy haymaker. The attack hit the Monk with a brutal slam that might have been a LOT worse, had it not glanced off at a crucial moment. Nevertheless, with this attack out of the way, it resumed its primary order and stomped in the direction of the prisoners. It gave the party a berth as it plodded to the cage and launched a second, splintering slam upon the wooden enclosure. It took visible damage which surpassed the cosmetic. Denizens of this cage, which included but were not limited to Cecily and the fisherman, cried out in chilling alarm, the former shrinking back as much as possible against the onslaught and the latter still desperate to claim his pole.

Baronfjørd has taken 10 points of bludgeoning damage




The sudden flare of the pitch barrel and subsequent magical change in quality of light, complete with ambient environmental difficulties did wonders to provide visual soft cover for this compromised Town Guard. To wit, nothing could be seen of his activities from the glaringly relative brightness of the makeshift arena. One could take a little comfort in the fact that a crossbow bolt did not fly, seeking a fleshy target from the general area of his last previously known location. The state of readiness, but not direct action, continued as far as anyone could tell on the other side of the fire.





@rivaan Kosara is good to go. Please tag me at the end of your post, so that I may set up the map and get the top of the round going. Thanks!

There were quite a few different things that ran through Kosara’s mind when the big rat monster things came out of the fountain and began rushing the cages on Cloverdash’s orders. For one she wondered at how ugly and horrifying they looked and the constable’s words of recognizing parts of them, didn’t make her like em any more. In fact she wanted to burn them down to ashes as soon as possible. That said another thing she had wondered was that the fountain must be quite deep for them to hide completely inside of it. Quite deep indeed! Following that man’s cowardly tactics and his apparent assumption that they will die her and he will be victorious, despite the fact that he in fact ran away like a completely and utter coward, everybody went into action, monsters included. Hits were exchanged and big rat monsters didn’t even mind much the fact they were attacked beyond counter attacking to free the way.

She watched in horror how one of the two made it’s way to the cage where Cecily and the jolly fisherman were at! No can do!” CELESTIAL BLAST!” She roared, her voice still booming from her Thaumatury cantrip from earlier. The golden rays of light and energy gathered at her horns and fired a blast of golden bright energy at the rat, hitting it cleanly and doing some damage, but otherwise she didn’t spot anything happening much. Seeing that it was in fact NOT enough to take it down, Kosara did what Kosara does – acted. In a display of speed, the pale tiefling dashed across around the fountain, jumping on one of it’s bricks for easier movement and continuing around, making a direct line for the giant rat bastard that was currently possibly planning to attack the hostages and she WASN’T going to have any of that if she could. The dancer was very wanting to jump on it’s back and try to redirect it that way, but she felt there wasn’t enough time.

“Hey, ugly! Leave them alone! I’m right here and STOPPING you!” She shouted at it, when she was right next to it, obviously trying to be as close and as annoying as she could. IF she could have done it, she would have even squeezed between the monster and the people, alas she wasn’t able to… for now anyways. That said, she hoped poor intelligence would redirect it to her once she called out to it that she was hindering it since she's so close. Cloverwish did say to attack anything that’s stopping them. Maybe if it was dumb enough it would prioritize her instead after all she did scream and attack it. It clearly understood speech after all and looked quite dumb.

@Sigil There you go! Also mind games.

Opportunities were abound to get a swipe in as the twisted flesh of the abominations moved to perform their primary task, and swipes were had. Each fell heavily upon rodent-like grotesques who barely seemed to notice the attacks and resulting damage. Weapons sunk into stolen flesh, partly crushing it in places and penetrating in others with varying levels of effectiveness. One fact could be easily gleaned from this initial exchange of blows - the creatures were not even attempting to evade the attacks.

Meanwhile, the flaming pitch barrels which stood between Constable Cavendish gave some concealment, thanks to the conflicting levels of light and thick fog abound; this effect was magnified to the point of brilliantly blazing soft cover. The positions of the three members of the constabulary on the map represent where they were seen last, not necessarily where they are as of this point. Any guesses as to the nature of the fire flaring up or where the Constable and his Guards are located, or even the particulars of the large, rat-ish shaped creatures will require specific investigation or reflection on the party's part (which means rolls and actions, accordingly).



@Arty Fox Baronfjørd is good to kick off the new round. Roll them math rocks.

Kathryns warning of possible other Guards in the trees rang in his ears.

BlackBerry saw the attack coming from the beast, its grotesque tree trunk of arm twisting his way. He braced himself ready to lunge out the way or brace hard against it. The Beasts swing came hard and faster, faster than he expected. Blackberry felt his teeth rattle when the massive fist slammed through his defence and almost sent him sprawling. For a moment, his vision went dark.

Blinking furiously, the world came back to him as blurry shapes, dulled colour, and muted words of someone behind him. He saw fire reflecting off the metal in front of him from the now familiar form of Lady Kathryn’s armour. Beyond her, he saw a large shape in front of him, turning and lumbering away. The Beast! BlackBerry snapped one of his Astral limbs out at the creature, and again he felt the blow strike true and hard but the beast didn’t even flinch.

Maritas suggestion to use blades made him pause for a brief moment. As he remembered, using a blade hadn’t served him well in the previous fight. While the others had outfitted themselves with silvered weapons he was still using his own standard short sword from when he arrived. The horrid beast certainly looked rat-like but who was to say that meant they were.

“If you are certain.” He replied, already withdrawing his own blade, dull metal barely reflecting the plume of bright fire behind him. “Lady Kathryn, help Kosara. Marita, Lets us target the other.”

The beast that had struck him had already moved over to the cage furthest away from him, with Kosara already hammering it with her magic. BlackBerry turned to focus on the other beast attacking the other cage of hostages. Drawing up to the beast he tried to through a reassuring grin to the captives but didn’t spare more than that. A jolt of pain shot through his arm as he went to strike the beast, the blow from before had done more damage than he had thought, but the blade still hit and sunk into the beast. For a second BlackBerry hoped that luck was on his side, but those hopes were dashed when he pulled the sword and saw that there was no lasting wound.

BlackBerry swore. He should’ve known, he called over to the others. “The Beasts are charmed also, my blade is useless.”


@Sigil Back to Guard 1!!

Given the lay of land and advantages forthcoming from the fog, conflicting light sources, soft cover, and the Wererat's own inate gifts of sneakiness, the the leather-clad Town Guard (turned wretched therianthrope) took the opportunity to lower its open profile considerably.

This might be the result of planning, as it was obvious that there an overall strategy to this setup. On the other hand, perhaps Kathryn's words had an impact after all. Rest assured that the Guard knows, and keeps any offensive action to itself for right now.

@Dragoknighte Marita is good to go for the round. Huzzah!

Those beasts certainly packed a wallop. With one blow each both Kathryn and Blackberry were pretty seriously injured. If those two were going to continue battling them face to face, they'd need defensive support. Unfortunately the one spell of that nature she had at the ready would only help one of them. Looking between them, the dragonborn was obviously the most squishy of the two, so that would have to do. With a quick gesture, Marita pointed towards Baronfjord.

"Shield." A shimmering aura appeared around the monk, offering him some degree of extra protection while the cleric maintained concentration.

Marita's most pressing concern was to get those things away from the cages. If they could even only buy time for the captives this would be a much better situation. From the look of things, their current strategy wasn't going to cut it. The cleric grit her teeth. She would have preferred to save her voice for dealing with the likes of Cavendish, but this was the far more pressing scenario. She could only hope that these abominations wouldn't resist her attempt to Turn them. It was unfortunate that Morty was likely to be caught too, but she had tried to warn Victoria beforehand. Marita raised her shield high and commanded:

"Abominations of undeath, the Light casts you out!"

And to her surprise, the things didn't react. They hadn't fought off the effects of the turn, it just didn't affect them. What? So despite being puppets of flesh and blood imbued with a foul mockery of life, they weren't undead. Just what were these things and how could they hurt them? The one stab BB gave them seemed about as effective as all their previous blows, so it likely wasn't that. Marita quickly tried to rack her brain for anything that would stick out, and something did. Why did Cavendish set a fire to block off his position? If he were truly in a position of absolute superiority and safety, he would have kept his seat for the 'show.' He seemed able to command the things, but as a warlock, messing with things beyond his reckoning that he couldn't quite control was a likely trait. What if the fire was a way to protect his rotten neck? It was worth a shot.

"These things aren't undead, and nix the blade strategy for now! Does anybody have access to fire?"