At first glance, it's hard to believe that the second carriage driver is alive. His body is a slimy, sticky mess, barely modest in the remains of his Watchman's uniform and covered in ugly blue-violet marks that darken his tender red skin. A firm lump the size of a goose's egg rises beneath the remaining hair on his crown, hinting at some harsh abuse by the cats before he made his visit to Big Belly's interior.<br/><br/>Yet, despite all evidence to the contrary, he<span style="font-weight: bold">is</span>alive - barely. Kaelen can feel the faint signs of life in the driver as he washes away the clinging gastric juices: a weak but steady heartbeat, accompanied by a rise and fall of the chest as he draws shallow breath. The improvised bath seems to have improved the man's condition, lightening the harsh color of his skin to a healthier shade once the acids are gone. Aside from the many bruises, his skin is remarkably intact for having endured a full minute of stomach acid - maybe he has some sort of natural resistance.<br/><br/><br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Vignar HP: 23%</div></div></div><br/><blockquote><div><cite>Dagnyr wrote:</cite>"Sir! You really, really shouldn't just get up and move around like that, you could exarcerbate your wounds, even with the healing."</div></blockquote><br/>"I'm well aware of the risks, constable," Vignar replies, raising himself up to allow Dagnyr easier access to his wounds. As soon as the healing light fades, however, his cloaklike wings snap back into place, concealing his still significant injuries. "Nevertheless, I have a duty to perform, and I can't afford to be slowed down by a few cat scratched. Now, if you please, I think I'm well enough to handle a simple report."<br/><br/><blockquote><div><cite>Dagnyr wrote:</cite>"Right, sir, there's not much in terms of good news. Elona is missing, as I'm sure you're well aware, and our drivers are either dead or seriously injured, I left that matter to the others while I went to check here. Everyone else is okay, however, no serious wounding or losses among our witnesses, we've captured two of the attackers, and the carriages are still mostly intact. Thank the gods for small favors, I guess."<br/><br/>"Still, the worse news is the fact that this is clearly a targeted attack. No one struck the other carriage like they did this one. No one else was taken away. Whomever they were, they knew we had Elona and they wanted her."</div></blockquote><br/>"I see," Vignar says, nodding solemnly. For a long while, he says nothing else, staring past Dagnyr with an unreadable expression. Finally, after nearly a minute of silence, the dragonborn stirs with a long blink and a shake of his head, as if trying to clear an unpleasant image from his mind. "There's more going on here than we know or understand," he continues. "Perhaps a great deal more. We'll need to inform the Watch command of this before we can proceed further. Constable, turn the wagons about and prepare-"<br/><br/>Vignar cuts himself short, turning to face the dooor behind him a second before Kaelen's reptilian face appears framed in the window. "Mr. Locasta. Is something the matter?"<br/><br/><blockquote><div><cite>Kaelen wrote:</cite>"I don't mean to interrupt, but our driver is still alive. I've done what I can, but he's still in pretty bad shape."</div></blockquote><br/>"What? Alive?" Vignar grabs the door handle, giving Kaelen just enough time to pull himself out of the way before throwing the door open and hoisting himself up to chest level with the roof. The dragonborn takes a moment to catch his breath after the exertion (which Dagnyr might note is a moment longer than it should) as he examines the hapless driver.<br/><br/>"By the saints," Vignar mutters. He pauses briefly to survey the streets before continuing, in a much more resolute tone, "Adjutant Niberos! We're making a detour for the wounded. Head for the Guiding Light Temple in Nobles' Quarter, as quickly as you can. I trust you  know the way well enough." The dragonborn waits only a few seconds for Alyssa's response before withdrawing into the carriage and falling heavily onto an empty seat.<br/><br/><br/><br/>After a false start and some words best not repeated, Angel manages to figure out the reins well enough to guide her carriage without running off the road. With Padma deftly steering the second, the two carriages set off down the road at a brisk pace. Hopefully, this leg of their journey will be a bit quieter than their last... well, maybe not for everyone.<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">(Spoiler'd for long, pacing-ruining digestion scene <img alt="&gt;.&gt;" src="./images/smilies/shifty.gif" title="Shifty eyes"/>)<br/><br/>Orange Fur's trip, at least, is neither quiet nor pleasant, and his meager resistance to digestion is doing precious little to alleviate his suffering at the mercy of the organic spin-cycle that Dagnyr calls a stomach. Gods, it hurts... the acidic sting is everywhere: hissing and spitting against his skin like liquid fire; fumes stinging his eyes, his nostrils; filling his throat instead of the air he so desperately needs when his burning lung finally run out of breath to continue fighting or screaming.<br/><br/>Escape is no longer an option Orange Fur's mind. Even if he could find the way out again, there's no way he could steady himself long enough to make even a feeble attempt at forcing his way through. And what go would it do? He'd be back in the hyena's jaws, ready for a chomping, with four more chompers waiting if he did manage to get free. He wouldn't have enough bombs to take on half of them.<br/><br/>In here, though... yeah. Plenty of bombs in here. Orange Fur forces a grin for nobody's benefit but his own as he clutches a small vial of reddish fluid, one of several floating in the digestive soup with him. There's just enough fleshy red light for him to read the markings and confirm his choice before he sighs, letting his acid-stung eyes slip closed. For a brief second, the grin on his face is genuine. Then, he thumbs the vial open...<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Hope you like fried food, chomper.</span></div></div></div><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Orange Fur uses one last bomb.<br/>Dagnyr takes 4d6 (4,5,5,6) + 3 = 23 fire damage, Fort DC 16 half<br/>(Normally this would require a Reflex save, but given the circumstances, I'll fudge things a bit &gt;w&gt;)</div></div></div><br/>Somewhere along the road to the temple, Dagnyr's stomach gives an unexpected *whump* as his recent meal turns unexpectedly spicy. A small cloud of smoke curls out of the paladins' lips, bringing with it the strange taste of barbecued gum rubber. Vignar raises his brow slightly in question, but says nothing. The contents of Dagnyr's belly are similarly silent, Orange Fur having apparently spent himself (or worse) with his last act of protest.<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Orange Fur has expired.<br/><br/>Dagnyr gains 425 VP and a Blazing Heart nutrion.</div></div></div><br/>Kaelen's search of Big Belly during the trip yields little of value: a set of child-sized knuckle dusters, a small knife in need of sharpening, and a pouch of dried leaves that gives off a potent minty smell. At the very bottom of one pocket, he also finds a crumpled sheet of paper covered in illegible chicken scratch - or maybe cat scratch, given the circumstances. It<span style="font-style: italic">might</span>be writing...<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">A Decipher Script check is necessary to read the Alley Cats' code (or bad handwriting).</div></div></div><br/><br/><br/>The remainder of the trip is quiet, aside from any noise the party themselves may choose to make. There's even less to see here than in the merchant district: most of the buildings here are hidden behind high walls and elaborate gates, saves for a few churches that have wisely closed their doors for the night.<br/><br/>In the relative gloom of the district, it's not hard to spot their destination as they approach: Guiding Light is, as one might expect, the only lit building in the vicinity, and quite brightly lit at that, spilling its golden glow from a set of open double doors as well as numerous glazed windows. A lone woman in Aurain gold and white robes stands in the entrance, surveying the streets for visitors; as the carriages approach, she ducks back inside, quickly reappearing with several others carrying blankets and stretchers. She greets the party with a bow of her head as the carriages rattle to a stop in front of the temple.<br/><br/>Welcome, adjutant," she says, nodding to Alyssa. "We are at the Watch's service. How may we-" her words cut off as she notices the body at Alyssa's side, and she quickly covers her mouth with one hand, though she's not quite fast enough to entirely hide the look of shock that crosses her face.