Well, Silhouette thinks. Nothing's gained by -not- knowing what he had.
And of course since only the Chosen was in a position to notice, and he seemed to be unconscious...
Her hands still remembered how to go through someone's clothes and pockets quickly, even though that was work she'd delegated for some time now. It would be interesting, the tiefling thought, to be doing her own dirty work again. Maybe even entertaining in a way even if the circumstances were terrible.
She concentrated once she'd taken what the fallen warrior had had out, and focused her gaze narrowly. She knew the cantrip to detect magic of course, but it was too obvious with the incantation and gestures. Long years of practice had taught her to feel the faint touch of magic on the magic within her...to see those ripples as if they were shaking reflections in a pond. It took nothing but a hard stare. Well, that and the peculiar monocle the gnome had paid for her services with; all brass fittings and multiple lenses that levered in and out. Quite a handy instrument for one of her talents...
Silhouette discovers that a lot more of the dead elf's gear survived than she originally suspected. There is his traditional elven sword, a fine magical courtblade with a simple keen enchantment on it. She can tell from its markings that is a family heirloom and it is inscibed with a phrase in the elvish alphabet:
"When the Eirelis blows, the foes of House Symbaern will fall." The blade feels uncomfortable in Sil's hands. She doesn't detect any protection on it, she simply finds it a bit unwieldy.
Keth's armor took the brunt of the damage inflicted by the High Atrificer's divine magicks. It is ruined beyond repair. However, the man's gauntlets have survived. Her monocle revels them to be gauntlets of ogre power. Quite useful for those that fight hand to hand using brute force. She wonders if they'd fit Thrak and if anyone would mind her giving them to him.
Keth's other weapons have survived as well. There is a magical composite longbow with a strength enhancement, although the elf man's quiver and arrows burnt and melted together. There is also a simple magical dagger with a returning enchantment on it.
The last item to survive is something that could have been quite useful to her if she didn't already have her own magical headband -- a circlet of persuasion. It is finely crafted and has a very distinct elven look to it.
The rest of the dead elf's gear is ruined. Whatever magicks that once might have held them together has been sundered.
Iago orders one of the Fists to give up his horse. The guard captain mounts the beast and reins back towards the palace just as the wagon train reaches the northern gate of the city.
"Keep going," Iago says to Shaz. "The guards know the way to Candlekeep." He then issues orders to the other Fists. "Stay with them. Guard the Chosen at all costs." He turns to the heroes and salutes them. "I will send more Fists, if I can. May the gods of Faerûn watch over you all."
With that, he spurs his horse and rides of towards the palace of Baldur's Gate just and the wagon train exist the city.
Soumral gives him sharp nod in acknowledgement just before he rides off never taking her eyes off watch.
As Soumral scans the terrain surrounding the road leading out from Baldur's Gate, she notes several fires in distant villages. The people living just outside the city's walls in the nearby farms look on with concern. They likely saw the blasts coming from the sky but remain in the dark as to what is happening. a few nearby farmers stand along the road asking questions and are shocked by the answers.
Members of the Flaming Fists try to convince them to pack up their families and join the caravan. Many of them shake their heads and say things like "I refuse to be put off my lands by these invaders" and "Aren't you supposed to protect us from such threats! What good are you!"
There is a stubbornness and ignorance to some of the farmers' behavior but mixed in with that are real fears and worries. A few pragmatists worry about their livelihood while others are more emotional. What will happen to their children, they say. Or they are concerned more for their animals.
"You must leave your farms for now," A fist pleads with them. "It might be possible to return at a later date, but if you stay, you will face death that cannot be fought with picks, swords, and even magic. If you will not come with us, then flee elsewhere. Take refuge in the safer forest and hills but do not stay here."
"where do you travel to that will be safe?" A woman asks.
"We march for Candlekeep," he replies.
"They won't let you in," another man objects. "Better to hide in the city!"
"No, there is great evil on the city's streets. It is not safe and those of the Fists that stay behind to guard our retreat will likely die doing so. You must flee! You must warn your neighbors!"
"I will not leave my farm to marauders," another farmer shouts. "Flee you cowards, if you must!"
The Fist stares the man down and looks like he's going to shout something but another member of the Fists puts her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. "Let it go, Belgeon. You cannot hope to reason with them. we save who we can and pray for the rest."
"But who can we pray to now, Loranys," the male Fist sighs. He ducks as a piece of rotting fruit is thrown at him by an irate farmer.
"Leave him alone!" A young wounded boy on one of the wagons yells at the farmer. "You should listen to him!" The boy is very tired and quickly lies back while coughing.
Now that the action finally died down, Yin Hun finally has a moment to breathe and take stock of the situation. It is not good. The lost of his hardsuit is a severe blow to his combat effectiveness with no means available to make up for it. It was always a risk that could happen to these low-tech planets, but the veteran soldier could not believe he lost it on his first fight on this planet.
Yin Hun turns to the other fighters he had just fought alongside with. "My name is Yin Hun Lang, and this is my second Emiko. We were brought in by the Freedom League to help establish resistance cells on Faerun against the coming Empire. Unfortunately, the situation is degrading far more quickly than we expected. I'm sorry we were not in time to prevent your companions death," he says, nodding to where Keth lies.
"For now, I think it's best we stick together until we can get ahold of the situation. You've all proven you can handle yourselves against danger such as the subsumed. What are your plans now?"
"Toril," says a deep voice from behind...and above...Yin Hun. He turns his head to see an impossibly large man walking along near the spot where the sounds of a wagon emanated from a place no wagon was visible.
"Faerun is the land," says the goliath amiably, sweeping an arm to take in the horizon. "Toril is the world."
"Yes yes, we know what he meant," snapped an impatient voice from midair.
A moment later, the invisible wagon reappears...its occupant apparently satisfied that no one seeing the wagons leaving the city would know that Haspur was among them. Or perhaps the spell had simply worn off.
The black-skinned tiefling peers over the wagon's side at Yin Hun.
"What is this Freedom League, and how much more help have they sent? Do you have a means to contact them?"
Yin Hun blinked at the wagon's sudden appearance, but years of planet-hopping has gotten him used expecting the unexpected.
"The Freedom League is the only force in the galaxy that's actually bringing the fight to the Dragon Empire. We have a few ships in the system, they were the ones that inserted Emiko and I. I lost my communicator when my armor was destroyed, Emiko still has hers. However, until the League can get a comm satellite in orbit, they'll be too far out of reach. When they do, they should be able to get in touch with us."
Silhouette grinned and sat up higher in the wagon.
"That's the best news I've heard today. Come up here and ride with me. We have a lot to talk about."
"Tell me...what does the Freedom League do in these sorts of situations? Will you be attacking the ships in the sky? Sending forces to the ground?"
Yin Hun cocks an eyebrow, but shrugs. He nods at Emiko to get on the wagon as well, then climbs up to sit next to Silhouette.
"Unfortunately, not enough," he says in reply to the tiefling's question. "The League doesn't have the resources to take on the Empire head-to-head. Our current ships might be able to engage a few pirate ships, but they'll bug out as soon as a fleet shows up. No, instead, we try to get the natives ready for eventual occupation, teach them how to resist a foe with greater numbers and superior technological assets. My job was to teach people like you how to hide from them, what you need to steal from them, and how to use them in order to fight back."
Yin Hun looks back towards the smoking city, but for a moment, he was light-years away. "Results have been... mixed."
"Well, lets hope you're good at your job then," says Silhouette. "Those are all things we'll need to know. In particular how to use these machines. With magic weakened here, we'll need other ways to inflict harm. Fortunately we're on our way to a center of learning. People who want to know more will most likely go there. There will be ample opportunities for you to spread your knowledge."
"On the other hand, it will probably attract the enemy's attention, so we will need to learn quickly."
Several of the nearby farmers make signs of warding when the wagon reappears and they see Silhouette for the first time. Others yell at the guards and call them all deceivers in league with evil creatures.
"Gods, you people are so quick to judge," Belgeon yells back. "fine! Stay here and die then if you will not listen to reason!" The Fist is frustrated and his words cut deep.
"Belgeon, control yourself," Loranys orders him. "You are a member of the Flaming Fists and you will act accordingly."
The Fist guard grumbles quietly and then nods to her before stalking off towards the other side of the caravan.
"I am sorry for what the farmers yelled at you," the female guard apologizes to Sil and the others. "They are just frightened by what is happening around them with no idea how to respond. If there was more time, I'd try to reason with them myself, but I doubt they want to hear it."
She looks at Yin Hun. "You have the look of someone from distant eastern lands of Toril. Are your people related to the Shou? They are known for their flying dragonships that can reach the stars."
Turning to Emiko, the soldier asks her, "Try to raise either the Deva Wing or Victory. They might have already established the uplink."
Emiko tries for nearly twenty minutes to contact the two ships, without any luck. Likely, the Imperial vessels are jamming any signals coming from the planet, or the ships are just not there.
She does get a Freedom League signal from somewhere else however. A voice crackles through tons of static in her comms.
"This is Rebel Three to Solar Prime," the voice says.
"Do you read me Solar Prime?" The voice pauses and then the signal clears and the voice speaks again.
"I've detected your signal, whoever you are. Verify call sign! Beholder. Red. Ten. Ten. Goblin. Four!"
