The Council of Thieves

Dress Rehearsal

Impressed by the defeat of the Bastards of Erebus, the leaders of the Children of Westcrown ask the group to meet with one of their greatest allies—Pathfinder Member Ailyn Ghontasavos. Ailyn believes that the key to vanquishing the shadow beasts that stalk Westcrown’ streets at night lies somewhere deep in Westcrown’s sealed Pathfinder Lodge, but before anyone should dare brave the grounds of this building, the keys to its locks and the history of what actually befell the lodge must be recovered—keys and history kept safe within the vault of Westcrown’s leadership. In order to infiltrate the mayor’s manor and search it for these keys and notes, the group must join a theatrical troupe, pose as actors, and brave a play no one has ever survived in order to be invited into the mayor’s home to celebrate the production’s success.

Read More: Chapter 4

The Bastards

The group sets out to make its assault on the Bastards of Erebus. This murderous group of Tieflings that has been menacing the streets of Westcrown must be put down and the Children of Westcrown carry out their attack.

Read More: Chapter 3

Rescue from Hell

There the group mingled with members of the resistance, eventually formulating a plan to rescue Arael from Hellknight custody. The party struck a caravan transporting Arael out of the city the next day, humiliating the Hellknight’s in a quickly fought battle and escaping safely.

Next, Arael and Janiven provided information about the next big job the group might undertake. He gave the location of an abandoned church of Erastil nestled in the northern ruins, known to be the headquarters of a group of tiefling bandits calling themselves the Bastards of Erebus. The heroes planned to move to action once again, in a daylight sortie against the Bastards.

Read More: Chapter 2

Rise, Children of Westcrown

Contacted by Janiven Key, the characters met at Vizio’s Tavern to discuss a business offer. After enjoying a meal together, a tense Janiven invited the party to join a resistance faction known as the Children of Westcrown. The meeting was interrupted by an out-of-breath Vennik Carr claiming that Arael, the leader of the resistance, had been captured by the Westcrown’s city guard. Within moments, a force of Hellknights descended on the tavern, forcing everyone to flee into Westcrown’s sewers through a secret trapdoor in the tavern’s kitchen.

After encounters with the sewer system’s less pleasant denizens and a group of Hellknight recruits, the party made its way to the Children of Westcrown’s safehouse, an abandoned shrine to Aroden in Rego Sacero.

Read More: Chapter 1

The Discovery

Vennik Carr huddled in a crouched position for what seemed like hours. Only a mere ten minutes had actually passed for the young rogue, but his adrenaline was coursing through his veins at the moment as a group of Hellknight’s passed with feet of his hiding spot. He did not relish the idea of being spotted, fighting or going into flight from the brutish knights. Too many tales and acts of horror had Vennik heard and witnessed wrought by the City’s ‘protectors’.

Vennik was garbed in dark gray leather armor and cloak with a mixed patched worked green with a lighter green thorn designed breeches. He shifted slightly to reposition his bow that was slung across his back. His dull blue eyes were sharp as they searched the knights for clues and details about why they had made their appearance this night. It was mere luck that Vennik had been so close to the wall to scale to this hidden alcove or he’d been spotted when they first approached. He also had to keep shifting slightly to avoid his blond hair to remain hidden under his cowl of his hood due to the wind fluttering it about.

Vennik was also a bit ‘high strung’ as Arael had called him and he hated waiting in silence for anything. Arael was part elf and so seemed to emulate the calm and far seeing demeanor of his elven brethren, not that Vennik had met many, but enough around the streets to see that the inhuman calmness of most of sylvan creatures.

Why were these knights here, thought Vennik. Maybe they suspect Arael’s true allegiance? Vennik watched from his vantage point above the alleyway behind a gutter as the Hellknights approached Araels side door. The knights, two per side surrounded the door and waited. Vennik’s right eye began to water and stung the longer and more intensely he starred. The scar across it was the reason, his mind drifted to the night long ago when he received the irritating blade slash from his…

Two loud knocks rang from the front door around the corner jarred Vennik from his daydream and confirmed his suspicion that indeed more knights had went to the front of Araels home. Venniks ear perked as he listened for any answer to the loud banging at the front door. None came and Vennik held his breath and said a silent prayer that Arael wasn’t foolish enough to exit out the side…

Just then the side door flew open and out darted the Half-elf. Instantly the Hellknights pounced and the armored figures grappled a limb each of the nimble half-elf. Arael was an experienced warrior, but he was truly surprised that the knights had appeared at his door at all and in a panic chose the side door to escape. He let out a small growl as the large and heavily armored men laid their body weight into his to pin him down and he could only flail helplessly as one wrapped his hands and ankles in iron manacles.

Vennik shifted uncomfortably and slid his hand over the pommel of his short sword as he thought of his odds at diving into help the captured half-elf, but then the Knights that had been at the front door moved to the corner to help their comrades. Four more knights strode down the alley to the half-elf and lifted him from the ground; one even launching a vicious punch into the manacled mans stomach, blasted out the air in his lungs.

Vennik could only watch as they hauled Arael out of the alley and into the main streets. The young thief counted the seconds as they passed, silently berating himself for not helping, not doing something. He leapt from his perch to the ground with amazingly silent foot falls, that the average man would have only thought was the wind, and ran off the opposite direction. Janiven, will have my head! This is not good, NOT good,” Vennik blurted out worriedly as he sprinted down the back end of the alley and off towards the Tavern.


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