Chapter 5: Pleased to Meet You

Eanala shakes her head. "I shouldn't berate you. You touched a raw nerve, is all. You see, my father was once part of the Council of Seven that helped run the day-to-day operations of the city, while the King and his court dealt with the larger national issues." She waves this away with the flick of her fingers and a sour look.

"We've had no magical storms here, just the mundane kind. Though other travelers from the west, like you, have spoken of them. Strange, terrible things, from the sound of it. We've got enough to deal with in Hara without worrying about our people being transformed into beasts."

She leans forward, forearm rested on the table. "Now, what about you? Call me presumptuous if you like, but there aren't many organized groups of travelers that could've come up against these Crows, as you call them, and lived to tell the tale. Not to mention being as skilled at disguise as you obviously are." She smiles faintly. "It takes a lot to fool me, and you nearly did."

The head of the cot is pushed against the wall, and the man's meager belongings have been piled into a makeshift pillow. The man himself rests with his back against the wall, his hands folded in his lap. He looks drawn, pale, and poorly nourished. His eyes move slowly toward Wil as if the mere glance requires a lot of effort. "I've.. been here... a long time," he says, voice scratchy and weak. "Yes. Probably... die right... here. They... won't take... me."

Wil's question goes unanswered. The man's eyes close, his breathing loud and rattling in his chest. After a moment, his eyelids open to mere slits. Seems he's not dead yet.

Verrian matches the older woman's smile. "For what it's worth, the disguise wasn't intended for people like you and your group. It's meant to ensure that I don't attract the attention of any Crows who've seen me before - or the attention of anyone who might be looking for people like me. But I appreciate the compliment. It's good to know that I haven't lost my touch."

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. "As for my group, all I'm prepared to say at the moment is that we're not a random band of travelers, which is really saying nothing you haven't already noted. We came prepared for anything, and even so, we've found ourselves sometimes shocked and ill-equipped for what we've encountered. We didn't, and still don't, have anything like a grand plan, but we're resourceful and good at thinking on our feet."

Now it's Verrian's turn to lean a forearm on the table, looking Eanala in the eye as their faces come within a foot of each other. "If we both decide we can trust each other, then we might be able to pool our collective talents and resources and save those people the Crows are holding. But to do that, we're going to need an exit plan, which I'm pretty sure you have but haven't had the means or ability to implement it. So maybe what we should decide, before your people arrive with my friends, is what we can do to build trust between us."

"Oh yes he's quite good, most of the time." She opens her palm only a bit, just enough room for Pip's head to pop out as he looks around with the same frantic expression. "Pip, I need you to calm down, we're going to be very careful okay?" As Elora explains the situation she senses Pip calm down, if only a little bit. Still, it's enough for him to stop his constant jabbering, which Elora will gladly take.

"Anders?" Eanala says, calling to the young man standing guard near the outer door. "This might be a good time for you to fetch Kletiani. Tell her what's happened, and ask her to come here. She'll want to talk to Talva and her associates when they arrive. Erannik and Timarra should be there by now."

Anders stands from his stool and nods to Eanala, departing the cellar room through the outer door. The elf woman gestures with a nod of her head for Giran to take over the 'guard' post, which he does without argument.

"Kletiani is our leader, as much as we have one. She's been working against Ghara for longer than any of us have. If we're going to have any agreement, she'll be the one that will need to make it," says Eanala.

Verrian nods. "I look forward to meeting her."

Looking around the room, she changes the subject. "Giran referred to this as the 'last surviving cell of the Hara resistance.' How many people have you lost?"

As far as Wil can tell, the man is on the up-and-up.

"That... fellow was here. A while... ago."

The man coughs violently. It shakes his entire body, and there's an unpleasant wetness that rattles from his lungs.

It takes a minute or two before he can regain enough breath to continue speaking. "I... remember him arguing. With a guard. He was angry. The guards took him away... almost as soon as he... got here."

He coughs again, more weakly this time. "Water... would be nice. Thank you," he says softly.

For the city folks

Apparently Pip wasn't kidding.

After a tense minute of silence, you see the light of lanterns and hear voices outside on the street.

"There's nobody here," says one man. In the otherwise quiet street, you can hear the sound of multiple sets of heavy boots. Hard to know exactly how many there are from where you are.

Another man's voice responds. "He's never been wrong before. Keep looking."

The first voice grumbles, "That guy gives me the creeps. Where's he get his information? I mean, useful, sure but... it makes me nervous. Don't it make you nervous?"

The second voice lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Why do you think I keep my big mouth shut? I don't want him coming for me next. Tark, Poren, you two take that side, Drem and I will take this side."

Two new voices say, "Aye, sir."

Two sets of two guards, each set bearing a single lantern, have turned onto your street. They're maybe forty or fifty feet down the street, and moving slowly your direction, stopping to take a peek inside each of the buildings they come to. You've got maybe a few minutes at most before they reach your hiding spot.

You can hear Erannik mutter a curse in Dwarven under his breath.

Will walks up to Brick.

Krigor, that man on the cot is going to die soon. He is an old man who has nothing to do with what's going on in the world. His last day does not have to be painful. Can I have some water for him? Please.

Brick looks back at Wil. He glances over to the man the halfling indicates, considering for a moment. Finally, reluctantly, he gets a clay cup and fills it with water from a container nearby and hands it to Wil without speaking.

Thank you Krigor.

Wil takes the water to the man in the bed and tries to make him comfortable.

Eanala seems to deflate at this question. It takes her a long while to answer, during which she shares a grim look with Livia, who still stands slightly behind her.

"At a guess, two-thirds of our original members from when I joined, not long after the end of the war," she finally admits. "It's gotten especially bad over the last couple of months. Not just our members, but our sympathizers too. People who would help us out with a hiding spot or a crucial bit of information are disappearing."

Livia grunts. "Eanala, you know what the..."

Eanala holds up a hand to cut her off. "We've talked about this plenty of times, Livia. I am not giving in to abject paranoia. That would be... admitting defeat. And I am not going to do that."

Looking from Eanala to Livia and back again, Verrian says, "It's not giving in to paranoia merely to discuss a theory." Addressing Livia, she says, "Tell me."

Swan whispers, "I can try a sleeping spell on them, but you lot better be ready to tackle the ones that don't fall for it. Ready?"

Pray they can't sense magic, Swan.

Ember tenses up, but waits to strike.

@everyone including the dwarf:: "Perhaps I could summon something to distract them and lead them away from us?" Coreene suggest telepathically

Swan whispers back, "Do it, I'll do my thing if they don't chase it away from us."

Coreene thinks for a moment on what she could summon. Most things she couldn't give orders to, or would be slain too quickly to be any good. There was one thing she could... it wouldn't follow orders, but it would certainly distract the guards... @everyone+:: "Alright. I can only hold them for a few moments. So when you hear... well when you hear fighting, start running. Everyone follow Erannik."
As long as no one objects, Coreene begins her casting.

Swan prepares to move, his fingers moving, anticipating having to quick cast. He grasps his cloak edge, knowing that keeping it uneven but not moving much will hide his own movements. His heart races, however, not from the impending action, but the certainty that someone is watching, waiting for a burst of magic to home in on. The trap is nearly sprung, and they're the unwitting bait.