Kingmaker: Into the Green IC

[DaedalusMkV]

Kingmaker Act I: Stolen Land
Oleg's Trading Post, Southern Brevoy
30 Gozran, 4712

It is a sunny spring afternoon in the south of Brevoy, the winter chill of the morning long banished by warm sunlight. The gently rolling hills and vibrant grasslands make it easy to forget the dangers lurking in the lands to the south, but easy to recall that the nearest true civilization is long behind you. The dirt path optimistically named the South Rostland road finally reaches a bend, turning to head north rather than the westward track you've been following. Near the bend lies a squat, wooden-walled fort at the end of a short path, the unmistakable shapes of catapults resting on the four square 'towers' that make up its corners. The gate, perhaps the best-made part of the worn, ragged wall is open and in ones and twos the explorers chartered ten days ago by the Swordlords of Restov arrive to the location stipulated for their meeting prior to heading for the wild lands to the south.

The structures inside of the trading post's walls are in better shape than the exterior, and were likely the first priority of the couple who now live here. A large, single storey greathouse stands proud in one corner, while a smaller shack stands in a second. In addition to these are a number of empty market stalls, what appears to be a mostly-empty fenced storage shed with a simple lock on its door, a stable more than capable of holding the animals you've brought with you and a trio of midden pits against the north wall. When each explorer arrives, a tough-looking balding man peeks his head out of the door, takes one look and says, "You don't look like the guards I sent for, and you ain't making demands like bandits, which must make you one of those adventurers the Swordlords said they'd be sending our way. Why don't you wait 'till the rest of you get here, then come on inside for a chat? Meanwhile, feel free to store anything you want stored and put your things in the bunkhouse over there." He gestures to the smaller building, then closes the door and returns to whatever it is he was doing.


Thus, it begins. Feel free to post in whatever order you'd like, and make introductions as necessary. Once you're all here and introductions are made, I'll move things along again.

[Moranica]

A dust covered wolfrider approaches the trading post. About 50 ft away, the gnome dismounts and starts to unsling the saddle from the wolf.

"Easy now Moro, I know you're tired and so am I, but we made it. Now remain still for a moment so I can get this saddle of you. .... Btw, you did well today. Good work!"
Paiku, the gnome, wearing simple outdoor clothing, finishes removing the wolf's burden and starts walking to the gate. Quickly the wolf catches up with her and nudges her with it's nose, blocking her path. She eyes him questioningly, before speaking.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. And besides, if there's trouble I have this to let you know. [shows silent wistle] Now you go off and find some food outside. There's probably horses there and you know how they react to you. And I doubt any stable boys would fare any better. Now off with you, but don't go to far."

Next, Paiku continues her approach as her wolf Moro watches, before dissappearing in the vegetation next to the road. As she enters the "fort" she spots the man's head poking out and manages to read most of his message from his lips.

"Will do, dear man, will do. I'll be in shortly.", she says before having a good look around.

Bandits? Guards? And he knew I was coming. Perhaps some of the other (wo)men have arrived already. ....

Perception [roll0] to spot the man

[Geckus]

Spying what is certainly their destination near the bend in the South Rostland road, Wilison heaves a sigh and turns in the saddle to address the massive half-orc plodding alongside his pony.

“It appears the first stage of our journey is about done, my good friend.” Wilison smiles good naturedly at Zhaag. “I wish we’d been able to find a horse sturdy enough to hold you at our last stop. I look forward to putting something solid beneath my feet rather than beneath my rump, though I wager you’ll be looking to do the opposite, hmmm?”

At least I was able to find a decent pony and some mules for the gear.

Wilison was sure Zhaag wouldn’t have complained a bit about having to carry the majority of their supplies, and still would have been faster afoot than him, but it certainly would have offended the halfling's sensibilities; Zhaag was a friend and a fearsome warrior, not a beast of burden.

As they enter the trading post grounds, Wilison spies the gnomish lady in traveler's garb taking a look around the grounds. Quickly dismounting, he sketches a brief bow and offers a friendly smile.

“Hail to you, madam. I am Wilison Highhill, of the Greyhaven Highhills, gentleman adventurer, at your service. This fine young man at my side is Zhaag, a warrior of noble spirit and no small skill. From your garb and demeanor, I gather you are newly arrived to this area, as we are. Would it be presumptuous to assume that you have received charter from the Swordlords of Restov as well?”

Physical Description of Wilison

Wilison is on the tall side for a halfling, being somewhat closer to 4 foot than 3, with a slim build and long-fingered, dextrous hands unmarked by labor. He is clean shaven, with thick sideburns that reach almost to his jaw line, and light brown hair that has been allowed to grow long but is kept tied back from his face.

His normal garb is fine courtier's clothing - grey trousers and a burgundy vest over a loose white silk shirt, along with black leather boots and bracers. His green hooded cloak is held in place with a simple gold clasp, and his hands are adorned with a pair of silver rings. A slim rapier and dagger, a matching set with pommels trimmed in green and gold, are bucked at his side, completing the outfit.

[Moranica]

As the halfling and his companion approach, Paiku waits, eyeing them curiously as she rests her weight on her quarterstaff. The bow and smile break away some of her uncertainty though and she smiles at his mention of the charter.

"It seems I am not the only one with close ties to the future, for you are right. I too, have come to help reclaim these lands. Paiku Wobblecog is my name. I was send by those who serve Erastil to aid this mission. You two look at home in these wilds. It will be good to travel with you."

"Do you know if any other will be coming as well?"

[Ancient Hippo]

Slowly but surely, Caerwyn approaches the trading post, greatly relieved from finally reaching it. He had tried to travel as lightly as just possible, but the gear still weights a lot more than he is comfortable with.

Seeing people in the front of the building, he assumes them to be members of the expedition too. Two short ones... A slightly taller one... None looking quite like a explorer, more like ragtag adventurers, except for the one whose clothing looked a bit too fine for an expedition. Nonetheless, he will have to spend the next few weeks with these people, so he might as well be friendly.

"Greetings! I assume you are part of the expedition to the Stolen Lands? I'm Caerwyn, and I am... Well, let's just say that I represent the interests of someone who seeks to... Enact certain political and social reforms. Now, if you excuse me, I'll go to drop my equipment into that bunkhouse. You have no idea how much it weights!"

He stores most of his stuff into the bunkhouse, but keeps his weapons. He knew that these regions were plauged by banditry, and did not want to be caught unarmed if a situation which can not be defused by words should arise.

[Geckus]

“Oh, I imagine others will…”


"Greetings! I assume you are part of the expedition to the Stolen Lands? I'm Caerwyn, and I am... Well, let's just say that I represent the interests of someone who seeks to... Enact certain political and social reforms. Now, if you excuse me, I'll go to drop my equipment into that bunkhouse. You have no idea how much it weights!"

“…be along shortly.”

Wilison half-turns, so he can see the newcomer without discourteously turning his back on Paiku. He raises an eyebrow at the reference to a mystery patron, briefly considering which of the Swordlords backing the expedition would be most likely to fit the bill before filing the thought away for future consideration.

“Greetings to you as well,” Wilison pauses ever so slightly, processing the lack of insignia or house colors almost instinctively, “Caerwyn. The storing of gear sounds like a fine idea, I should probably see to my own as well.”

Wilison begins the task of unpacking his mules and pony, continuing to make conversation as he does.

“You mentioned being sent by those who serve Erastil, miss Wobblecog. Are you are lay follower of the faith, or of the priesthood?” He pauses and smiles before adding, “I suppose you could simply have been hired by them, but that seems an unlikely bet to me.”

[Moranica]

"Greetings! ...... you are .......the expedition to ..... Stolen Lands? ..... Caerwyn, and I am... ....... I represent .... interests .....who seeks to... Enact ............ ... ..reforms. ..... , .. you excuse .... , I... go .... drop ........... into ...... bunkhouse. You have no idea .........!"

Paiku looks in surprise as the newcomer appears and dissapears with a flash. As she only manages to catch some of his talk, she stares for a moment, before realising the probable cause.


“You mentioned being sent by those who serve Erastil, miss Wobblecog. Are you are lay follower of the faith, or of the priesthood?” He pauses and smiles before adding, “I suppose you could simply have been hired by them, but that seems an unlikely bet to me.”

"I am indeed one of the priesthood, though unlike most followers, I was not given a choice. My divine powers are granted not just by Erastil, but by a gathering of dieties who see my potential, and wisdom in my choices. I chose Erastil as the one to follow, since he holds closest to my beliefs. By chance, it also helps people understand my ways better, for some reason I cannot find."

"Which of the pantheon do you adhere to? ... if I may ask?"

While she talks, she waits until Wilson finishes and walks with him to the bunkhouse to drop her saddle and tent.

[Geckus]

"Which of the pantheon do you adhere to? ... if I may ask?"

“'Tis a fair question, miss. Most of my kin offer their prayers to Abadar; hardly surprising given that we’ve been a family of merchants and craftsmen for quite a few generations. My grandfather was a devoted follower of Nethys, and I’ve found quite a bit of interest in the bits of that faith I’ve been able to decipher from his writings on it. I’ve left offerings to Desna, Erastil, Sarenrae, Pharasma, and even Shelyn once or twice. But I can’t honestly say that I adhere to the teachings of any one of them. Like many, I simply offer my respects and prayers to each of the gods, at the times it seems most fitting or needed.”

As he names each deity, Wilison draws a rough facsimile of their holy symbol from within his pack saddle, crafting them of gossamer wisps of smoke and magic, and releasing them to dance in the air around his head. As he finishes, they spin together and fade away.

“A touch long-winded way of saying I’ve no patron, hmmm? Unlike my good friend here,” he motions towards Zhaag, "whose devotion to his chosen deity is unshakable, in my experience."

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor strode through the midday sun towards the ramshackle fort with a wary glint in his eyes. Given the state of the road, the look of the walls, and the apparent lack of any inhabitants who might facilitate commerce he thought it was something of a stretch to call this a 'Trading Post'. Still, it was the designated meeting place of those seeking to explore and settle these "Stolen Lands" and it would do well to at least pay it a visit. 'It will after all be the only regular source of supplies and link to the civilized world,' He thought to himself, 'Despite it's shortcomings . . .' He sighed, slumping his shoulders.

'How these mortals can manage to proliferate all across the Golarion while abandoning outposts and letting brigands and lowlife villainy overrun their lands, I may may never know.' It was not so much an insult to Caledor's way of thinking as it was simply what the plethora of splintered human nations and their petty disputes seemed to make evident. 'Perhaps it is that they live such short lives, they forget what it truly means to leave a legacy.' These thoughts turned his mind once again to his most noble goal, and he renewed his pace as well as his resolve, going over in his mind once again the various lessons and glorious triumphs of his own family and the Elven nations before the Starfall, as a way to pass the time. He entered the gates of the settlement in a considerably better mood than before, especially as his eyes fell upon the buildings of the courtyard, and their somewhat improved state of repair, as well as the pair of diminutive figures making conversation in the courtyard.

Caledor hailed a greeting as he approached, not wishing to interrupt but politely moving towards them and listening in as he did upon their topic of conversation.

[DaedalusMkV]

Introductions complete (Minus Zhaag, who seems to be somewhat overcome by all the new faces and names), equipment stowed and animals stabled, the group files into the largest of the post's structures, where the man you presumed to be Oleg greeted you from. The inside is slightly cramped but cozy, any damage it might have suffered from its years unattended long since seamlessly repaired by Oleg; in fact, he appears to be quite the carpenter, with a few of the repaired facings being of obviously better quality than the original construction. Once inside, Oleg greets you and waves you into a well-lit, comfortable dining room with a large round table in the middle and six chairs spaced around it. "You might as well sit down and make yourselves comfortable. To be honest, I was hoping you'd be the guards the Swordlords promised us." A few moments later, a dark-haired woman about the same age as her husband enters the room and smiles at you. Svetlana is a plain woman, neither beautiful nor ugly, wearing simple clothes. Her most striking feature is her eyes, icy blue in total contrast to her darker hair and shining with warm intelligence. "Welcome. Since my husband hasn't bothered with introductions, his name is Oleg Leviton, and I'm Svetlana. Pleased to meet you."

Oleg grunts. "Don't see why we need to have people out roaming the Greenbelt anyways. I like it just fine, 'cept for the bandits. Seems to me they'd be better off just sendin' in some soldiers to wipe out the lot of them, then leavin' well enough alone."

Svetlana clicks her tongue at him, then continues, "Regardless of what Oleg says, we're glad to see you. I've got dinner cooking now, and when I heard you'd be here I made sure to add enough to feed all of you. I know you just got here, but I've got a favour to ask you, if you'll hear it? I can offer you free room and board if you're willing to help us out... It's not a small thing, but we don't have much by way of money to offer you right now. And that's part of the problem..."

[Moranica]

Settling in nicely, gives Paiku a sense of place and time again after the long journey, as the scene starts to sink in. They were forming quite the merry bunch now, coming from different races and backgrounds. Surely it would prove an interesting mix of skills as well, but she couldn't help wonder how this newfound group would work out.

She makes sure to find a nice nice spot in the corner, making sure to have full vision of all the group members. She makes sure to tell them of her .... hearing impairment and to make sure she sees them speaking for her to understand. Next she listens to what the Levitons have to say before responding.

"I for one, could certainly use a hot meal. It's been a few days. Tell us of your trouble while we eat."

[ChaosLord29]

Oleg's less than warm welcome did little to surprise Caledor. 'Any man who willing takes up such a remote residence isn't much like to appreciate strangers.' He thought to himself, 'Especially strangers who can only promise the arrival of more and more strangers.' His wife however seemed more amenable to the new company, and he wondered just how long it had been since they had entertained guests rather than just hosting the occasional hunter, traveler, or trader. The promise of a hot meal and a bed were enough to allow him to overlook the otherwise spartan accouterments offered by the human couple, and the woman's offer of further accommodation free of charge did much intrigue him.

"If you'll allow me to make an educated guess," He ventured, settling a hand absently on the hilt of his sword, "Your favour has something to do with the aforementioned bandits, and the toll they have been taking on yours and your husband's livelihood?" He smiled brightly, trying to keep from smirking too knowingly.

It was only too obvious to his mind that the 'favour' to which she was referring would be to do something to deal with the bandits. After all, her husband had mentioned that they were expecting a contingent of guards, not the current traveling party, which likely meant that he himself was the one to have sent for such aid. Secondly, he had mentioned the bandits only as an addendum to how their life was going along here on the outskirts of the Greenbelt. The final evidence of course, being the very charter each of them had been given back in Restov, which surely would not have mentioned bandits were they any less of an issue here than in the Riverlands more civilized areas.

Ordinarily, he would be quick to right such a trivial matter off. Mortal matters usually sorted themselves out after a decade or two after all, assuming they were starved of the opportunities to expand or proliferate, but this was the first opportunity presented him thus far to really seek to prove his mettle and his worth. Though his hand worked the hilt of the sword at his side, his mind's eye wandered to contemplate the other blade currently nestled amongst his other belongings in it's fine carrying case which was itself wrapped in tarpaulin.

[Geckus]

When Paiku explains her hearing impairment, Wilison nods and asks, “Have you had the opportunity to study hand-speech?” He makes a number of strange gestures with his hands (which anyone trained in sign-language would understand - same message as his spoken one), and says, “My second youngest niece...lovely child, takes after her mother...lost her hearing in an accident several years ago. I’ve a certain facility with languages, so I studied the hand signs the tutors taught her and her parents, so she’d have someone else to talk to.”


"Welcome. Since my husband hasn't bothered with introductions, his name is Oleg Leviton, and I'm Svetlana. Pleased to meet you."

“A distinct pleasure, sir and madam. Wilison Highhill, of the Greyhaven Highhills, gentleman adventurer, at your service.” Wilison gives the same friendly smile and short bow that he gave the others. “Though seeing as we are likely to be in the area for some time, I’d be more than happy to skip the formalities, and just have you call me Wil, if you feel so inclined.”

“Whatever this favor is, large or small, I for one would certainly be happy to hear you out. And so long as the aid you ask is within my abilities, you can be sure enough that you’ll have it.”

[Ancient Hippo]

Helping complete strangers is not one of Caerwyn's favorite pastimes, but with his travel budget he had no freedom to overlook free food and shelter. Besides, he thought cynically, with a self-proclaimed "gentleman adventurer", he might have to grow accustomed to such altruism.

"Well, I have no problem with a large task. It's the "small" tasks that usually cause trouble."

He leans a bit bacwards and observes his companions one by one. A half-orc, who has spoken so little that Caerwyn is not yet able to determine if this particular one surpasses the stereotypes common to his race. A "gentleman adventurer", who by the looks seemed more focused on the "gentleman" part, leaving hard work to others. An elf... surprising to see one who does not see traveling with "lower" races unworthy for his "status". Maybe this one was different from the others.

Caerwyn smiles a little when he looks at Paiku. It was so... Inspiring to see someone who did not let their impairments stop them. He had seen so many healthy men complaining from their little misfortunes when the only thing that was preventing them from achieving their goals was their cowardice. The gnome could serve as an example for the weak and strong alike.

[DaedalusMkV]

Svetlana smiles and sighs with relief at the outpouring of positive responses. "Thank you all so much. We've been worried sick, and I was afraid that Oleg would do something foolish soon if nothing changed..." Oleg scowls at this, but still seems to be in a slightly better mood than before. "And you're quite correct, sir Elf. It's the bandits that're causing our trouble, true enough. They first came three months ago, about a dozen of them. They were led by a foul-mouthed, rude man with a bow and a horrid woman with two hatchets on her back, and they demanded that we give them all of our furs and trade goods... Basically everything we'd earned in our time here, or they would drag me away for their... 'Amusements'."

Oleg curses loudly at the mention of this, growing visibly angry. "Rotting bandits. Shoulda cut out her tongue, the way she went on... Like she was lookin' forwards to it. Woulda killed them all, if they hadn't had us six to one, and I'd had a weapon to hand..."

Svetlana continues. "They come every month, near the end of the month or maybe the beginning of the next. We weren't sure if they'd be coming today, but since they didn't I'm sure they'll come tomorrow. We can't afford this, and even if we could we aren't the sorts to just ignore bullying like this. Oleg gets angrier and angrier every time they come, and I'm afraid one of these days he's going to get himself killed." Again, Oleg scowls and looks behind him, to where a weathered old crossbow sits unloaded against the kitchen's wall. "So what we need is for you to fight them off. Kill them, capture them or just make them leave us alone. Now, even with the five of you we wouldn't expect you to be able to beat twelve bandits, but luckily they've been getting overconfident. Every time they come, there's less of them. Last time was only five, and the time before that was eight. If there's only five of them, or less, and we take them by surprise..." Svetlana trails off, and this time Oleg continues the thought.

"The plan was, once the guards got here, we'd set them up in the guesthouse and stable and when the bandit's are picking up their 'loot' we jump 'em and kill them all. With the element of surprise, I figure it should be easy to put a few bolts into them, put the rest to the sword. You aren't the guards, but maybe you'll do just as well for this... You look like a capable lot." He admits, grudgingly.

Svetlana continues. "The woman with the axes doesn't come anymore, and I'm glad of it. She seemed... Dangerous. Really scary, even more than the rest of them. They always come in the morning and seem eager to be on their way, so their camp can't be too far away. Maybe a day or so. Anyways, if you've got a better plan than Oleg's, we'll listen to it. We aren't warriors, after all." With that she heads back into the hall, leaving you to discuss the details amongst yourselves (and Oleg) while she finishes dinner. A few minutes later she returns with seven bowls of hearty stew of some sort, as well as a few plates of potatos and a pitcher of ale. "If this isn't to your liking, we've got a bottle of wine kicking around somewhere in the storeroom. We were saving it for a special occasion, but I think this counts." Oleg scowls again over a mouthful of stew, but doesn't say anything to countermand his wife's offer.

Map of the Post, to help with any planning:

http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/TradingPost.jpg
The catapaults have been left to the mercy of the elements for fully a decade and Oleg doesn't have the skill to repair them, leaving them little more than ruined decorations, and the ten foot high wall is rough and holey (DC10 check to climb), making it of little value as a fortification though still better than nothing. A4, the supply shed, is where the Levetons keep the goods that they hand over to the bandits.

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor listens as patiently as he is able to the woman's tale of woe, and does mentally commend her for speaking so plainly about such things, figuring that a mortal would be won't to over dramaticize their own plight, or break down into hysterics. Oleg's gruff attitude however quickly begins to wear upon his nerves and he makes a mental note to conduct business with him in kind in the future, but keeps his attention largely focused on Svetlana and the numbers and activities of the bandits in question. He stays quiet once she is finished, mulling over the possibilities in his head. 'Assuming the bandits stick to their pattern thus far, we are quite likely to outnumber them should we force a confrontation.' he thought to himself, 'However, their previous encounters suggest a larger camp somewhere nearby, and if we were simply to repulse the bandits at this venture, we would likely be facing a much larger force at a later date.'

As Svetlana returned with the stew he eyed the pitcher of ale warily, but them mention of wine waylaid his concerns. "A celebration may not be warranted just yet," he remarked taking a spoonful of his soup, "but I suppose you could consider opening that bottle of wine in the good faith that you will not be troubled by the bandits any further, and that your trade is likely to pick up quite soon.", he said before raising the spoon to his mouth, savoring the warmth and the steam before eating it.

"Even were the bandits to arrive in force tomorrow I very much doubt they're anything that a few choice spells couldn't handle. Even less so, assuming my compatriots here are of a mind to offer their assistance in dispatching with these brigands. Our charter does authorize us to deal with 'unrepentant banditry' and I believe your troublemakers fit neatly into that category." He looked about the table quite sure that their would be no dissent. Caledor was more than happy to take charge of the situation, and relished the opportunity to prove he was both a capable and canny leader. "I suggest we lure the bandits into the fort, set them at their ease, then shut the gate behind them and deliver our ultimatum. Surrounded by superior numbers and with any easy retreat cut off, I doubt they will be keen to fight. And if they are, well . . . " He took another sip of soup quite casually,

"I suppose a demonstration of our abilities and conviction is in order." Caledor might have said 'we' but in his mind's eye he was already preparing to dispatch the bandits personally, sword drawn and eyes blazing with arcane power.

[Moranica]

The sign-language from Wilson surprises her. It is slightly different from the one she learned, but close enough to be understandable. She is quick to respond in kind. This time, using only sign language.

Sign-language only
"It is nice to meet someone versed in silent communication methods. .... [she hesitates and blushes] .... It always feels nice to communicate in a way, in which I am equal to all others."

As Svetlana tells her story, Paiku nods and slowly grows a worrying frown. She is about to speak up, wanting to ask the group if they would even be capable of such a feat, when Caledor cuts of her words.

He talks with clear confidence, about combat and death, without even the slightest tremble. Paiku pales as he continues, for she is far from any kind of warrior. When he speaks, she wonders if she is up to the challenge. .... But then she straigthens her back.

Hmphf, the years in the monestary must have made me soft. It's been to long since I had to fend for myself, away from civilisation. It reminds me of my life with my parents....

When Caledor is finished, she speaks up.

"I may not be much of a warrior, but I can help. I can bring you back from the brink of death and heal you with my divine powers. I shall be in the back, helping the injured. .... My friend .... Moro, he can help to. I'll have him guard the gate, should any of them escape."

Having offered her help, Paiku sits back, and watches the groups responses.

[Geckus]

Wilison smiles and leans back in his chair as Caledor and Paiku both put forth their willingness to aid; of Zhaag’s response, he had no doubt. He wasn’t as sure of Caerwyn, having only but recently met the man, but hoped that he would be as amenable as the rest of them to aiding their hosts.

“Most excellent! We seem to have a plan that remains simple, yet effective; I most heartily approve! What say you Caerwyn, are we all in agreement?”

To Caledor, he says, “It is good to know that we count another arcanist amongst our number, my good sir. I look forward to seeing elven magic in action; perhaps when this is done, we could discuss the intricacies of the art? I must admit to being little more than an apprentice of the craft, but I would be most interested in learning the differences between our practices.”

To Paiku he asks, “Moro? I didn’t see anyone else on the way in…is your friend still on the trail here or exploring the countryside?”

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn ignores the conversation at the moment, instead focusing on the stew. While most people would probably not see much special in the stew, he had often suffered from hunger in his childhood, and had learnt to apprecitae whatever food he got. Only after he has eaten most of his portion and drank half of his ale he speaks.

"Such pessimism! Why do you assume that bloodshed is bound to come? Bandits are not known about their undying loyalty towards each other. We could probably just bribe them to spend the next few days in the nearest town drinking. Then we march in their camp and say that we completely massacred those sent to collect the loot. That would probably be enough to cause a few of them to drop their weapons and run. Then their leaders, abandoned by their minions, might as well surrender. Or be overcomed when they try to fight to the bitter end."

He leans back a little, then continues. "Then, our hosts need no longer to worry about the bandits, and we can continue our expedition with one thing less to worry about. We would probably need to deal with the matter anyway. So we might as well get it out of our way now, with the element of surprise in our side.""

[DaedalusMkV]

Oleg nods along with Caledor's 'plan', though it's really no different from his own. "Yeah, that's right. Don't give the curs anywhere to run, and then kill anyone who don't surrender. I like it."

To Caerwyn's suggestion, however, he is much more ambivalent. "What if they just double-cross us, take our money and go right back to camp? Then you're worse off than you started, 'cause you ain't got surprise on your side no more. Plus, that leaves a whole whack of bandits still roamin' the countryside, and there's no way they'll go without all my goods. Way I see it, only way to solve this problem is with all of the bastards in prison or dead." Svetlana remains silent, her face whitening slightly at the mention of slaughter and killing. "Look, I'm not a mean man. I've got some potions in the stockroom, good magic ones. You can have them all, if you promise to let none of the bandits go if you can help it. They're scum, the worst sort, and they deserve to suffer for it, not walk away with pocketfuls of gold what don't belong to them."

[ChaosLord29]

Elethir listens to Caewyn's suggestion cautiously, and more or less waiving off Oleg's analysis of the situation. The man was obviously quite emotional and embittered about this entire situation, and thus any of his views could hardly be considered 'objective' in their analysis. He was slightly more inclined to weigh Caerwyn's views more heavily, since he obviously had at least a portion of elven blood in him, and while his plan was certainly audacious, it did not sit right by him.

"I do not believe it would be wise to attempt to bribe these bandits. They are clearly more organized than simple thugs. Secondly, casualties and captured prisoners are much preferable, as any who desert are likely to simply take up banditry once again in a short time. We would be foolish to think that this is the sole camp in the area, and any we run off of it are likely just to become a problem later down the line, our own, or someone else's."

He concluded and turned to look Caerwyn directly. "If the bandits can be convinced to surrender, so much the better, but if we use my plan, we make sure that even if they do not surrender, they will no longer trouble anyone."

[Moranica]

Paiku sits and sees the conversation progress. They all seemed to be having the same ideas, more or less. They would deal with the bandits, one way or another. When asked about Moro, she smiles a little and explains.

"It is indeed unlikely that you have seen Moro. He has learned to stay away from strangers. Moro is a wolf you see, and functions as my ears when trouble is around. He knows, I'm deaf and has learned to warn me of impending danger. Apart from that, he protects me and carries me when needed. He really is good to have around if you ask me. .... Most people or pets disagree though. So I keep him away from civilisation when possible. He's always just a whistle away if I need him. I can warn him to block the escape, without the bandits noticing."

"As on strategy, I agree with Caledor. The fact that they were commanded by some female, who doesn't show up anymore, suggests they have a camp nearby. And apparently, more business besides harrassing this Trading Post."

"Mr. Oleg, do you perhaps have something to quickly bar the exit? Large wooden poles, or perhaps something flammable?"

[Geckus]

Wilison nearly chokes on his drink at the mention of bribing the bandits.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Oleg and Caledor in this matter. I believe you are perhaps more than a touch overly optimistic about the likelihood of successfully convincing them to lay down arms in exchange for a few gold coins; attempting to bribe thieves rarely ends well for any involved. It is much more likely to be seen as a display of weakness than anything else, an invitation to take whatever money and possessions you retain. Not to mention that such an action would run contrary to our Charter.”

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor nods in assent to Wilison, the humans reasoning being somewhat crude, but still in agreement with his own. The charter for Caledor is much less a binding document than it is a set of guidelines, and at the very least a warrant to those who take the laws of 'humans' seriously. 'I see no reason to trust in the honor rulers who has spent less than half a century proving either their abilities or wisdom. Especially not when any such claims to land and title are predated by elven rulers by several centuries.' he thinks to himself, 'But if it comforts such 'sovereigns' to use such methods to authorize their petty claims and decress, then so be it.'

"If we are to go forward with my plan," Caledor says leaning in over his finished soup and lacing his fingers together in thought, "It would behoove us to assign those of our number to close the gate and who will confront the bandits as well as where the rest of our number will hide. I suggest Zhaag handle the gates, while Wilison, Paiku, and I remain hidden. That would give you, Caerwyn an attempt to reason with them, and if they prove unreasonable, to deliver our demands."

[Ancient Hippo]

Disappointed from the lack of support towards his plan, Caerwyn momentarily lets his better judgement falter. "Well, I guess I should be thankful that we did not met a few months earlier. Your lack of optimism could have resulted fatal." He crosses his arms and continues in a sarcastic tone. "But I won't contest the words of those who are clearly experts in this field. How could a humble man's plans compete with the wisdom of scholars?" Dropping his mock humility, he turns at Caledor. "Now how do you except me to "reason" with them when the only option that I can give to them is essentially suicide? Mercy is given to those with wealth or connections, not poor farmers who had decided to take the only change they get to have a fraction of the luxury nobles have cartered to them since their birth."

He downs the rest of his ale with one swing, then continues in a calmer tone. "I am a quite skilled negotiator, but I can not do miracles. If I can't have the tiniest leeway with the bandits, there is no point in even trying."

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor listens toCaerwyn's words with a quiet sigh and a slight slumping of his shoulders. 'Apparently this one prefers to allow his human temperament to get the better of him.' He thinks, only half-minding Caerwyn's words and certainly anything but offended by his veiled threat.

"Your presume too much to suppose these bandits to come from such innocent origins, and such a history could not possibly excuse their actions thus far, though it may allow them a measure of mercy." He replies confidently, "It would be equally wrong to assume they are all unrighteous brigands however, hence why imprisonment is a preferable outcome to death, that they may repent of their past crimes, rather than simply pay for them."

At that point he ceased to address the group at large and leaned pointedly in Caerwyn's direction, setting his hands upon the table and smiling smugly. "It is my estimation that there is no one here better suited to deliver our demands to these men, and that if anyone can convince them to surrender, it is you." He leaned back and took a pull at his tankard, "Of course, if you refuse to do so, you consign them to a fate deprived of what mercy you could offer them, and count yourself complicit in the exacting of more retributive measures."

[Miraqariftsky]

Still clad in mudstained traveler's cloak, still bearing bag upon bag of odds and ends that he gladly carries for the "Little Master", the weary halforc sits down with a groan. Stretching in his seat, he tosses bits and pieces of traveler's jerky to Oleg's hounds and even lets one of them gnaw on his meaty finger. He extends the same greeting to their hosts as he had to their newfound companions--- a smile and an open hand... though they might not have quite gotten it through the shade of his deep hood. As the food comes in, Zhaag loudly says grace, "Holy Sarry... thankee. Amen."

The mountain of muscle sitting beside Willison puts down the weathered wooden bowl. The halforc's breath reeks of four and a half servings' worth of hearty broth, beef and a good deal of onions. He downs his second tankard of ale, belches horribly, then flashes Caerwyn a toothy grin. "Iz da good eats, yah?"

As the discourse and disagreement wear on, so too does Zhaag's patience. A black-nailed hand rises to scratch a nearly bald brow while he tries to figure out what in blazes these people are actually talking about...

...then slams down on the table. A soft, open-handed blow that nevertheless sends a thunderclap to the rafters. When the last bowl has stopped clattering, the heretofore hungry halforc speaks. "Luk 'ere, y'all fancies. Iz no da use be arrgyfyin'. Iz be givin' youse an' mees an' alla usses 'edd-ecks. Lezz boot it dis way, say? Dese bandits be bad dang gits. Truzz me on dat, dem buggers be bad dang gits. Dey come 'ere an' mekk de pain to de Suh-veht-ell-nuh an' alla dese udder inn-oh-sents?"

"CRUSHES DEM! CRUSH DEM GITS!" he growls, gouging furrows in the seasoned wood of the table.

"A-corr, da wuz da good pointing youse had be said, Mistah KERR-wing" Zhaag nods, then picks his nose. "Zhaag dis-ar-gee. Part-a-ways. Old-old-old skolar say 'Nevah ne-go-shet furm pus-ee-shun o' weakness'. Nevah met skolar but skolar know wot skolar say as wuz say by da Boss wun time. Iz sad but iz true. Buh-size, iz no can do, da talk-talk, iffen alla dey wanna do izz choppa yer 'ead off. Ez-pesh-lee if dey be many-many-an-more-dan-many. We SMASH DEM GOOD... an' DEN we talk"

Gesturing with his tankard, Zhaag continues, "Ting is--- dat dey be doin' bad tings, dey know dat bad tings be doing to dem too. Izz like juss da wen da bad man be trown in da priz-on-pit, 'e no can say 'e be go out: De bad need de puhn-eesh-munt an' da good dey need be away furm da bad so's be less da pain"

"Bah! Zhaag 'ead no feel good. Too much da tinkin'." That said, he gets up, cleans up his spot on the table and then pauses, scratching his head. He puts his great meaty hands together, then opens them--- one of the oldest signs of the Sarenites. "Iz wuz good meal, ma'am, sir. Thankees kind-lee. Sarry's mercy be onna alla ye. We be trya ta mekk dese durn gits repenting or perishing fer der givin' youse pain"

Warscythe already shouldered, shield already strapped, hand on hilt, he turns to Wilison, he says, "Now den, liddle master, where zhaag be go for better da choppa an' crumpa o' dem bandit gits? An' how long be waiting?"

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn stares at Zhaag not knowing what to say. It takes a moment before he regains his composure. "I'm terribly sorry, but I don't understand... Whatever it is you are speaking."

He turns his attention back to Caledor. "You don't understand where the problem lies. "Surrender" Means to these people a more humiliating death later, unless we promise to cover them from the law or convince them that we have the influence to secure a pardon." Having said this, he leans again a little backwards, lifts his eyes to the ceiling, and thinks. In his days of being a "private entrepreneur" he had many conflicts with other bandits and witnessed even more as a third party, but had never seen a bandit betraying another to the authorities. Which, as a member of an official expedition, he qualified as too. And while he had left the life of a brigand behind, at least temporarily, the whole thing was a little too hypocritical for his tastes.

After a little of thinking, the solution starts to form in his head. "Now, I think that I have a little trick that can reliably keep the bandits away from this post without bloodshed... Just let me have a few words with them before you attack, and I'll see if it works."

[DaedalusMkV]

Svetlana appears taken aback by Zhaag's compliments on her cooking, and his voracious appetite. "Er, thank you, Zhaag. I appreciate the sentiment."

The remainder of the evening passes uneventfully, and after the remains of the stew (was it mutton, maybe, or possibly rabbit?) and ale have been hastily cleaned up, Oleg reminds you, "Remember, they'll be arrivin' about an hour after dawn, maybe less. Be ready to be up with the sun, or earlier." Then quickly puts his own words to action and retires to his bedroom, after spending a few minutes outside making sure everything's in good shape and the animals in the stable are cared for and comfortable. The rest of you return to the guesthouse, which may be lacking in privacy and room but makes up for it with comfortable beds and good, thick walls which keep it happily warm even as the chill of night descends upon the trading post.

---

Morning arrives, and the adventurers make their necessary preparations and take up positions in wait for the bandits' arrival. It's a chilly spring morning, but it doesn't take long for the day to start to warm up and the sky is mostly a welcoming blue above you. True to Oleg's words they arrive about an hour after sunrise, four hooded humans on horses, with bows across their backs and swords belted at their waists. While you can't get more than quick glances of them without breaking cover, they seem to be led by a tough-looking man with a hint of a beard and a rough swagger in his step. "Here we are, boys. Looks like old Oleg's got his taxes waiting for us like he's supposed to. Load 'er up, then, and be quick about it. Yeah, slackwit, that means you."


If you're going to give Caerwyn a chance to talk them down, now's the time to do it. Otherwise, you can do as you will.

I realized a bit late that Geckus' plan involved hiding two people in the storeroom, which is the bandits' destination. If you do want to hide there, I'll need a Stealth check from you. Otherwise, you can lurk in the bunkhouse with no risk of discovery.

Feel free to place yourself wherever you want to be when you act. I hope to not have to draw up a map for this fight, but might if it starts getting complicated.

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor listened carefully at the door of the bunk house for the bandits arrival. It was now up to Caerwyn to see if the bandits were amenable to surrender, and if not, it was up to the rest of them to ensure their compliance. His sword was drawn and at the ready, but as always, his mind drifted off to contemplate the carefully wrapped weapon amongst his other belongings.

[Ancient Hippo]

I'm assuming that Caerwyn was waiting with Oleg and not hidden.

Caerwyn took a deep breath. While he was confident in his abilities, he knew that success was not to be taken as guaranteed. Switching from his usual polite tone to a much rougher one, he proceeds with his plan. "Slackwit? I hope for the sake of your ugly face that you didn't direct that to me. You are from that group of amateurs who have a camp nearby, right? Well, I don't want to distract you from your buisness, but if you are a little smarter than this bonehead..." He gestures at Oleg. "...You will want to listen to me."

"These lands store something much more dangerous than wolves. They tend to spend most of the time in slumber, but once in a while, every other century or so... They rise up. And when they do, people die. Some just disappear, some are found mutilated in a manner so vicious that even the most jaded man can't stand to look at it. Sometimes only the hapless fools skin is found, nailed onto a wall." He lowers and pulls slightly apart the neckline of his modified chain shirt, revealing part of the large tattoo covering his chest. "And every time, just before it happens, someone is given the power to tell apart those who have been marked for death, and give them a change to flee their fate. Don't believe me? Think that this is just a normal tattoo? Well, if anyone of you little girls has the barest semblance of courage, I can prove it."

He smiles smugly and extends his hand towards the bandits.


Bluff: [roll0]
If any of the bandits swallows the bait, he will use brand to etch the word "DEATH" into their arm. The spell allows a save, but it's a cantrip, so he can probably just cast it until it works.

[DaedalusMkV]

The leader of the bandits turns to look at Caerwyn as he emerges from the greathouse, while the other three get to work carrying Oleg's furs and trade goods onto their horses. "What? Who're you now?" He queries, before being quickly answered by Caerwyn's scare story. At the mention of supernatural monsters lurking in the woods the rest of the bandits stop what they're doing and listen. The leader looks very worried for a moment, before one of his men bursts out laughing. "What do you take us for, idiots? What a load of horse****. Happs, you ain't listening to this fool?"

The leader wipes the look of worry off his face when he hears the man's laughter, though the slightest glint of fear in his eyes betrays that he isn't totally convinced that it's a lie despite the brave face he's putting on for his men. "Phaugh, I'd love to see 'em try, even if they do exist. The Stag Lord and I would gut them all, and the monsters'd eat the rest." He gives the half-elf another look over, and the fear in his eyes is replaced by avarice. He gestures casually to his men, who draw their shortswords, and leers at Carwyn. "That's some nice armour you got there, pointy-ears. This here's the Stag Lord's territory, and there's a toll y'see. Hand it over and we'll make sure he knows you're a good fellow. Or you can find out what we do to bleeding tax evaders, eh?"

[Ancient Hippo]

"Yes, I thought you were idiots. Actually, I still think so. Just not as gullible as I had hoped"

Caerwyn takes a step backwards. Even with the backup, he did not feel comfortable facing four armed men. Even so, he tries to not show it outwards, and smiles.

"Now, have you ever heard about "Honor among thieves"? Take one more step and you'll know what happens to those who don't respect it!"


Using Intimidate to demoralize the leader. Basically, if the check exceeds 10 + his HD and Wisdom modifier, he becomes shaken.
Intimidate: [roll0]

[ChaosLord29]

Listening at the door of the bunkhouse, Caledor heard the gist of Caerwyn's attempt and decided it was about time he had a little backup. "What do you think Wilison? Zhaag? Would we be wise to provide our compatriot with a little support and give his threats more teeth?"

[Moranica]

Paiku just sits still in the bunkhouse. Oblivious to what's going outside she watches as suddenly, she sees Caledor tense up.

They must be here...

She takes her silent whistle and blows it hard once, signalling Moro to move into place near the gate.

Steeling herself, she gets ready to move out of the bunkhouse last and look for injured, while blowing the whistle twice.

[Geckus]

"Yes, I believe that would be in everyone's best interests. Just let them group together a little closer..." As he judges the distance between the bandits, Wil suddenly realizes that his chosen hiding spot has left him further from his targets than he'd hoped. “Blast, they’re too far for me to reach before they react to our presence…I guess a small adjustment is order.”

Quickly ducking from the bunk house to a position closer to Oleg and Caerwyn, Wilison focuses on a simple bit of magic mastered early in his tutelage. Tossing his dagger towards the nearest bandit, he mystically guides it to it’s mark - sadly the weapon doesn’t strike with any more force than usual for Wil, likely leaving no more than a superficial wound.

[Miraqariftsky]

WAAAAAAAGGGHHH!

Suddenly, from out of the shadows, there comes a gut-shuddering roar... and the horrible, revolting reek of excrement--- both human and horse. A blur of soot-stained scalemail, crap-encrusted cloak and shet-dripping shield boils out of the stable, carooming into the nearest bandit with a horrendous crash of bones and blood, hacking in with a finely honed scimitar coated in blazing lantern oil.


Hopefully, these buggers get some sort of Fort save against SHET ATTACK. What? Whaaaat? 'Twas something he learned in the prison pits.
Temporary flaming blade? Something learned from the Sarenites--- would have been used in his dawn devotions. As to how long it would last before being extinguished/running out, probably soon, on account of all the dripping... stuff.

Attack: WS [roll]1d100[roll] TN 40
[roll0]
RageStr + BAB + WeapFoc + Charging - PowerAttack

Damage:
[roll1]
RageStr + Power Attack + Freshly Whetted Blade

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor ducks out the door, allowing the orc his grand entrance, drawing his own sword and making his way into the fray briskly aside Caerwyn. "You fools would have been better off surrendering!" He calls out, "Now you will face your doom of steel and arcane fire!"

[DaedalusMkV]

The ambush is sprung as the Swordlords' explorers attack their foes. Zhaag's attack, as brutal as it is unexpected, opens a fatal cut on the bandit closer to the stables and crushes him to the ground, leaving him clutching a wound the better part of two feet long and three inches deep. He expires within seconds. Wiliston's magically propelled dagger slashes the one closest to the bunkhouse across the arm, eliciting a grunt of pain but clearly no more than that. Oleg dives behind the table, getting out of the way of any sort of attack.

In response, the bandit's leader, who from the other ruffian's comment is clearly named Happs, shouts out to the two survivers, "Kill the Orc! You, pointy-ears, I'll butcher myself!" He reaches behind his back, grasps his longbow and with a smooth motion readies it, nocks and arrow and looses. Unfortunately, he is betrayed by unsteady hands and his haste to deal with the condescending Caerwyn, and the arrow flies fully a foot wide.

The other two bandits close on Zhaag, each taking up a position to one side of the savage half-Orc and striking in something approximating coordination. While the former Pit Fighter easily deflects the first foe's attack with his shield, the momentary distraction allows the second to run his weapon through Zhaag's thigh, causing a nasty gash as he yanks it out. "Hah! You ain't so tough, Orc. First hit musta bin a fluke." He taunts, smirking as he prepares to attack again.

5 damage to Zhaag.

You're all up again. The bandits are ready for you now, and Happs looks like he's managed to overcome Caerwyn's taunt after his miserably failed shot. I'd appreciate it if you'd include a quick summary of your characters defenses (AC, current HP, save modifiers, any relevent miscelaneous defenses like DR, SR and what have you) in each combat post, to make it easier for me to resolve combats.



Map:

http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/TradingPostRound1.jpg

[ChaosLord29]

Despite the fact that the 'pointy ears' comment seemed to be leveled at Caerwyn, Caledor immediately fixated on the lead bandit, this Happs character. 'How dare that mud-crawling simian besmirch his betters!' his mind raged, as a thousand curses, dooms, torments flew through his mind, none horrible enough to his liking for this cur. A wave of his hand and a flourish of his sword conjured an invisible shield of pure force to ward off any arrows or attacks from these despicable fools, and the righteous minded elf waded into combat against the bow armed bandit, moving to hem him in from any possible retreat.

"You'll envy goblins' ears once I'm through with you!" He called out in challenge, "And rue the day you thought to compare yourself to the inheritors of Sovyrian!"

[Moranica]

Paiku storms out of the building, watching the scene as it unfolds. Blowing her whistle hard, she signals Moro to take up possition in the gate opening.

She herself continues on to the bleeding Zaagh. Moving next to him, to be able to help, as soon as it is needed.

Double move.

Paiku Wobblecog (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=419171)
f NG Gnome Oracle (Nature), Level 1, Init -4, HP 10/10, Speed 20
AC 15, Touch 11, Flat-footed 15, Fort +3, Ref +0, Will +3, Base Attack Bonus 0
Quarterstaff +0 (1d4-1, )
Chainshirt (+4 Armor, +1 Size)
Abilities Str 8, Dex 10, Con 15, Int 13, Wis 13, Cha 18

[Miraqariftsky]

The tip of Zhaag's sword lodges between two of his fast-expiring victim's ribs and vertebrae. Even as the poor sod's own blade falls into the bloody mud, his twitching hands clutching in vain at his spilling entrails, the halforc puts a boot on the broken man's chest and wrenches his weapon free in a wash of gore.

Thick globs of spittle fly as Zhaag gnashes at his assailants. He recoils by reflex even as the sword slash sinks into the meat of his thigh, propelling him backward, the same motion knocking the other bandit's blow wide.

hrrggrrruuu-WAAAAAAGGHHH!

Zhaag barely hears the taunt through the red haze that throbs through his vision. With a growl, he launches a counterattack, bits of shet flying from his shield as he feints a punch with his shield-arm at the wrong-footed foe, then lunges at the one who'd bloodied him...

...scimitar lashing in low at the legs, paying him back with interest.

At the corner of his rage-flooded eyes, he becomes dimly aware of Paiku's presence.


HP 10/15 (12/17 from Rage) AC 16 (-2 from Rage)

Power Attacking the Southward Bandit [roll0]
Regular Damage [roll1] CRIT CONFIRMED. 22 damage.

[Geckus]

Wilison halts in his tracks, somewhat taken aback by Zhaag’s…innovative…form of distraction.

Dear gods, some of things that go through his head… Well, at least the battle seem to be going our way for now.

Deciding to hold off any using any of his spells given the group’s current success in dealing with the small band of brigands, Wilison maintains the simple focus required to send his dagger spinning through the air towards the bandit’s leader, Happs, judging that his half-orc friend would have little trouble with the remaining man he faced.

AC 13, HP 10/10
Hand of the Apprentice - dagger (use 2/7) Attack [roll0], Damage [roll1]

[DaedalusMkV]

Zhaag's second strike is even more deadly than the first, cleanly cleaving his target's head from his neck in a brutal display of power and precision. The other remaining bandit's eyes widen and he looks behind himself for a moment as if considering flight before the leader, Happs, calls out to him. "You run, I'll do worse to you, arseface. You want a fight, Elf? Die!" He backs away from Caledor, raises his bow and looses an arrow with remarkable precision, lodging itself in the swordsman's shoulder with bone-jarring force.

9 damage to Caledor. It's probably a good thing for everyone he didn't confirm his critical.

The last remaining bandit takes a wild swing at Zhaag, and by some miracle his blade manages to find its way past the half-Orc's excellent defenses to open up a small wound on his sword-arm. At the same time Wiliston's knife slashes a thin red line across his chest, causing him to yelp in pain.

2 damage to Zhaag.

Taking advantage of the distraction created by Caledor's rush forwards, Caerwyn withdraws the crossbow hidden beneath his cloak, takes aim and fires at Happs, the bolt striking true and embedding itself in the bandit's stomach with a muted whump. The bandit leader grunts in pain, but with a quick glance at his still-fighting subbordinate straightens up and growls back at your group.


Round 3 begins. Happs looks to have taken a pretty nasty injury from Caerwyn's attack (I rolled maximum damage on it), but still seems to be going strong. The other bandit took a far less deadly attack, and one more decent hit will probably take him out of the fight.

[ChaosLord29]

Heedless of the wound to his shoulder, however heavily it was bleeding, Caledor stepped up inside the guard of the bow armed man, clearly the leader of their little band of thugs, but all his considerable thought was directed towards how best to dispatch this hopelessly ignorant and ill-fated fool who dared challenge him! Drawing on arcane energies, his eyes glowed bright with sudden fury and his drawn longsword became a reflection of that arcane power, it's blade alight with tongues of magical energy, striking out at the bow armed bandit who had the audacity to threaten him.


Current HP: 3
Attack with +1 Enhancement bonus from arcane pool
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Moranica]

Paiku looks at the carnage, and yells in desperation.

"Stop getting hurt, I can't keep up with this!"

She then continues to heal Zhaag with cure light wounds. [roll0]

[Ancient Hippo]

Still smiling, Caerwyn loads another bolt into his crossbow with almost inhuman speed. Unlike Zhaag and Caledor, he tries to keep his voice and demeanor as calm as he can.

"You know, I was just reaching the best part of my little ruse. The part where I trick you with a little sleight of hand, and you flee in terror to the farthest-away place in the world you can find." As he speaks, he focuses himself, redirecting the divine wrath flowing through him. "But you just had to go and interrupt me. Well, at least it's not me who will have to clean this mess."

He aims, and sends a bolt flying through the air towards the bandit leader.


HP: 8/8 AC: 16 Fort/Ref/Will: 2/2/4
Changing the Judgement to "Justice" (+1 to attack rolls)
Attack:[roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Geckus]

Launching his dagger once more towards the bandit leader, Wilison wonders if he perhaps underestimated the danger presented by their remaining foes.

No time for second guessing yourself Wil, just be ready if things turn for the worse.

Keeps well away from the swinging blades, Wilison edges closer to the fight, seeking a good position to blast both their enemies if the fight continues more than a few more seconds.


Hand of the Apprentice (use 3/7) - dagger [roll0], damage [roll1]
Move to west 15’, to just north of the cart handles.

[Miraqariftsky]

Amazingly, the halforc's brutal blow at the bandit's legs hits only empty air as the latter leaps over the blade. Flush with the half-moment's exhilaration of escaping the agony of bleeding out, the ruffian fails to evade Zhaag's follow-up at neck-level, sending his still-smiling, still-spurting head hurtling towards the carts.

Overextended for but a moment, the other bandit's blade clips him on the forearm--- on the muscle-corded space of green skin between the folds of the cestus and the steel sleeve of scalemail. Zhaag grunts in annoyance and knocks his opponent's sword off to the side by a shield-aided left hook. He then bulls forward, riposting with a savage scimitar slash at gut-level while slamming the brass rim of his shield into the bandit's throat as a "distraction".


-2 damage +4 healing
HP 12/15 (14/17 from Rage) AC 16 (-2 from Rage)
Regular stab at the last regular bandido [roll0]
Regular damage [roll1]

[DaedalusMkV]

Wiliston, Caerwyn and Caledor all focus their attacks on the leader of the small bandit group, sending sword, dagger and bolt towards him, but through a mixture of luck, deft dodges and his leather armour he manages to escape unharmed. The other bandit, on the other hand, is not so lucky. Zhaag's brutal shield bash takes him completely by surprise, and he reels back as the half-Orc's sword opens up a deep gash in his side. He drops his shortsword, clutching at the wound, then collapses to the ground in terrible pain. It's clear that without some intervention he'll quickly bleed to death.

Happs, the leader, looks around and realizes that all of his men are dead or dying and he's outnumbered five to one. "Sod this. You want me, you'll have to let this place burn!" He backs off again, opening up the distance to Caledor, then reaches into a belt pouch and withdraws a flask, which he then hurls at the roof of Oleg's house. It shatters on contact and explodes into violent flames, igniting the tarred wooden shingles like tinder. Within seconds the area where the flask struck is blazing merrily, and it looks like the fire is spreading rapidly.


Only Happs remains standing, and he's lit Oleg's house on fire with a flask of Alchemist's Fire. If you act immediately you can use water from Oleg's well to put the fire out before it spreads enough to ruin the post, but this will take several Rounds of time by which point Happs will have fled. However, if you leave the fire too long it could cause terrible damage. The more people pitch in to stop the fire, the faster you'll get it under control and the less damage it will do. If nobody but Oleg tries to put it out, it will burn the greathouse to the ground. It's up to you what you want to do.

[Moranica]

It's obvious the battle is nearing the end with only the leader remaining. It seemed though, he wasn't going to be taken down or captured easily.

However, the immediate danger was somewhat lessened and Paiku quickly to Caledor, after which she casts stabalize on the bandit Zhaagh gutted.

[Miraqariftsky]

Long-buried pains rekindled with the bandit leader's setting fire to the greathouse, Zhaag roars as if it were his own flesh that was blazing. For a moment he stands in indecision, torn between the urge to smite these foul brigands and the need to put out the fire.

He levels his sword at the man called 'Happs' and growls out, "Ruh-pent ur perresh, yuh dung git. Ye'll get woss comin' to yeh"

Shuddering with frustration and growing desperation as he watches the blaze grow, Zhaag wastes no more time and dashes for the well. There, he stabs his blade into the ground and with his prodigious might begins heaving up some water.


Grr. Grumble. No more choppa for now.

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor's eyes flash briefly towards the fire as the bow armed man who has confounded him thus far throws a flask of alchemists fire onto the roof. Knowing just how quickly the fire is likely to spread he thinks briefly for a moment of the well and the buckets nearby, but a voice in the back of his mind whispers to him, 'You cannot let these slights go unpunished.' He grips the hilt of his sword to the point that his knuckles turn white, but in his mind's eye he is holding a very different blade.

Caledor sprints with every fiber of his being after Happs, utilizing every inch of speed he can muster to chase down the fleeing bandit.

[Geckus]

Wilison doesn't hesitate for more than a second before abandoning the fight to try and control the fire before it really gets going.

"Let him run...he won't get far before a bit of justice finds him."

The halflings thoughts turn briefly to the summons Paiku had made at the beginning of the battle.

He can run for the gates, but I doubt he'll be expecting the little surprise awaiting him outside.

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn raises his crossbow one more time and aims at the fleeing bandit... But does not shoot. After all, if he did not care if the man lived, then why should he care about his death? If this 'Happs' manages to outrun Caledor, is not gutted for his failure, and the wound Caerwyn managed to inflict on him does not become infected, good for him. But if the outpost burns down, so does the reward.

He drops his crossbow, and rushes to help Zhaag and Wilison with the fire.

[DaedalusMkV]

Most of the group breaks off their attack on the bandit leader to stop the alchemical flames now spreading across Oleg's roof. Oleg himself runs to the wall, where he begins climbing up a ladder to make his way to the roof. "That's it! Fill up the buckets and pass 'em up to me. We've gotta get this thing put out before it burns the whole post to the ground!" Svetlana comes bolting out of the house as well, her face pale, and watches the spreading flames with undisguised horror. Paiku dashes over to save the dying bandit's life, closing his terrible wounds before he bleeds out. Caledor, meanwhile, driven by thoughts of vengeance strides forwards and slashes at Happs with some success, inflicting a glancing wound on the bandit leader.

Rolled an attack for you, since Happs was literally only a 5-foot-step away from you. You hit, and caused 3 damage.

Happs, his injuries clearly taking a toll, shouts "Sod off, Elf!" then turns and runs away. Noting that the path back to the gates is blocked by both Caledor and the fire-fighting efforts of the group he runs to the north and with a great leap jumps up and catches the edge of the wall, then hauls himself up to a standing position.

Happs is now standing on top of the northern wall, near the midden pits. Everyone but Caledor seems to have dropped out of combat mode, so I only need an action from ChaosLord and maybe Moranica until Happs gets away or goes down. Moranica, I'd appreciate it if you clarified your actions in spoilers in the future. I wasn't sure if you were healing Caledor or using Stabilize on the dying bandit.

[ChaosLord29]

Still in pursuit, Caledor seeks to close the gap between his bow armed foe and raises his free hand to cast a spell of confusion against the mortal before dropping his sword and drawing the shortbow from his back and knocking an arrow.

Casting Daze on Happs, DC 14

[DaedalusMkV]

Happs takes a single step as he begins to run around the wall, but siezes up as Caledor's magic takes its toll on his mind, and his taunting words turn to a choking breath. The magic only holds him for a scant few moments, but it's more than enough to stop him in his tracks while Caledor draws his bow.


Yup, he failed. He loses his turn, effectively. Your go again.

[ChaosLord29]

Seizing the opportunity in his opponents sudden paralysis, Caledor uses the opportunity to close the distance nearly to the base of the wall before directing his pointed finger at the confounded brigand and firing at him a brief but intense ray of frost.

[DaedalusMkV]

The frost ray strikes the still struggling Happs directly in the chest, driving him to his knees. The bandit struggles to stand up for a moment, almost reaching his feet before collapsing in a fit of hypothermic coughing. He barely manages to choke out "I... *hack*Surrender. Don't... *cough, hack* Kill me...", dropping his bow from the wall to land with a clatter on the ground, then lays down miserably. He remains conscious and alive, but it's pretty clear he won't be fighting back or running away any time soon with the injuries he bears.

At 0 HP, Happs surrenders and drops his weapons. He's not suicidal, and he has no chance of victory or escape as long as you're paying the slightest bit of attention.

Meanwhile, a concentrated effort by Oleg on the roof and Zhaag, Wiliston and Caerwyn hauling buckets of water from the well manages to quickly get the flames under control. While Oleg's roof has a nasty scorch on it and his kitchen might be a bit leaky until he has time to repair the damage, it is otherwise quickly and easily taken care of. When the last of the flames are quenched Oleg lets out a sigh of relief then begins climbing back down via the wall, much more slowly and carefully than his heedless ascent. Once he makes his way down the nearest ladder Svetlana runs across the yard to hug him, then turns back to thank you. "Oh, thank you so much. It is such a load off my mind that we don't have to worry about these bandits any more..."


You'll probably need to decide what to do with Happs and the stabilized bandit. If you want to loot them (and the dead bandits), they have the following between them:

One Composite Longbow with a +2 Strength Modifier
Three Shortbows
Four Short Swords, one of which is made of Cold Iron (Happs had it)
Four set of Studded Leather armour
77 arrows
65 GP in mixed coinage and small trade goods (most of it on Happs)
One silver amulet in the shape of a stag's head.
A scroll tube containing what looks to be a magic scroll of some sort.

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor pays little attention to Oleg, and instead moves over towards Happs, relieving him of his weapons and turning him over roughly to face up towards the smirking elven spellcaster. "I would tell you to remember who your betters are, to consider this your proper place, staring up at them from the ground, but I don't consider your ilk to be capable of learning such in the first place." Bending down, grabs Happs by the collar and lifts him just enough to make it hurt when he drops him again. "Stay down, and maybe we won't have to put you down."

Once out of the defeated bandit's field of view, his hand moves to his injured shoulder and he puts pressure on the wound, which is bleeding quite seriously. Retrieving his sword, he moves to rejoin the group, keeping an eye on Happs, doing his best to keep the pain in check now that the adrenaline rush has worn off.

[Geckus]

Wilison smiles at Svetlana’s thanks, and says, “I’m certainly glad we were able to deal with the fire before it got out of control, but I’m afraid much more work will need to be done before the bandit threat is ended entirely.”

Looking to Zhaag, he asks, “Would you mind ensuring that the survivors are stripped of any arms and securely tied?” In a quiet aside he also adds, “Some of the tactics you picked up in your past are probably best left there, my friend. This one in particular,” he gestures towards the offal covering the half-orcs shield and cloak, “is most definitely one of them. You could make yourself quite sick if that got into any wounds you took.”

“That was well fought everyone. Paiku, would Moro be able to watch the survivors whilst we decide what must be done with them? I‘d rather not discuss it with them unattended or listening in.”

Wilison had a pretty strong opinion on that matter already, but given their previous conversations, he didn’t look forward to trying to convince the rest of the group that it was the right way to go.

[Miraqariftsky]

With water spilled from the heaving at the well
And the sweat-rush from fire and steel's hell
And blood and offal now sloughing
Zhaag stands dripping
The great green head bobs
Many a blow and grope and snatch he lobs
Wordless yet but obedience to Little Master grips
As of arms and aught else their fallen foes he strips
In a jumble at Oleg's doors he sets the loot
Binds them with a cart of rope, to boot

[Moranica]

As the fight is suddenly over, Paiku rushes for the house. Using repeated (max 4) uses of create water, she quences the last bits of fire and embers. Her face blackened from the smoke and coals, she walks back to the others. Then she notices something in the corner of her eye.

Moro is waiting in the gate, eyeing her questioningly and seemingly unsure whether to approach or stay put. She walks over to him and after a short pet, she sends him of again. Keeping a wolf near two legged folk is never a good idea.

Next, she adresses the group.

"Wow, that went well. .... didn't it? ..... [she notices the blood on some of the men] .... I mean, uhm, some of you seem hurt. If you require healing, just let me know. I am not as skilled as most healers, but a simple cut is easily taken care of."

[Ancient Hippo]

Watching silently from aside, Caerwyn notices a scroll case and an amulet among the items that Zhaag retrieved from the bandits. "Can anyone say if those things are magical? I doubt they are, but you never know..." Sure, he could find it out himself too, but he prefers to keep his magic hidden. Less people asking about its source that way.

He turns his eyes to Happs and the unconcious bandit. Without saying a word, he steps next to the battered bandit leader and smashes his fist against his face, knocking the man unconcious. "There, now we can speak freely," he says. "I am fine with letting these poor beaten souls keep their lives, but if you want even more blood... I won't be stopping you. Either way, I doubt these guys will be able to bother anyone in a while. Or even walk."


I don't really think attack/damage rolls are needed in this case, as there is not much Happs could do to evade the blow, and even the tiniest amount of damage possible is enough to knock him out for at least an hour. Of course, just rolling them would probably have been quicker than writing this. :smalltongue:

[DaedalusMkV]

Happs splutters indignantly at Caledor's disdainful treatment, but his objections are short-lived as Caerwyn's descending boot lands with the crunch of snapping cartilage, breaking the bandit's already crooked nose and sending him into painless unconsciousness.

When the conversation turns to the surviving bandits' fate, Oleg is quick to voice his own opinion. "I don't know if I get a say, but if I do... Penalty for banditry is hanging, and this lot are clearly bandits. I've got plenty of rope, no reason we can't string 'em up from the wall this afternoon, if you'd like." He breaks the hug with his wife, then asks her "Svetlana, would you go get those potions I put aside? These folks have held up their end of the bargain, I'd say." Svetlana nods, then strides inside. Oleg smiles as she goes, the first time you've seen him do so. "I'm not sure if you'll be wanting to get out exploring the Greenbelt today or rest up for tomorrow, but you've done right by me. You can stay here free of charge for as long as you'd like and I won't be charging you if you come back, either. Least I can do, after you risked your lives for Svetlana and me."

A few minutes later, Svetlana returns with four stoppered vials, labelled in a slightly chaotic hand. "Please, take these. They're made by a local, some sort of hermit who lives southeast of here. If you need more, he's pretty good at mixing the brews, if a little bit weird."


The potions are labelled, which makes it very easy for you to determine what they do. You now have two Potions of Cure Light Wounds, a Potion of Enlarge Person and a Potion of Invisibility. Both Happs and the unnamed Stabilized bandit are unconscious and show no signs of waking up any time soon. Since there's a bit of disagreement about them, I'll leave you some more time before resolving their fate. You could also try waking them up to interrogate them, if you'd like. Either way, I'll be needing a consensus on their fates before I can move things along to the next bit of the adventure.

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag returns from the well, wiping down and scrubbing his shield, crap-cloak conspicuously absent. Overhearing the discussion on the disposal of captives, he tilts his head to one side in a long moment of thought, then nods at their hosts. "Maztur, madam, ur y'all shure deze be all dat wuz bothering y'all? Dis be all der boyz an' none-elses?"

Thick fingers with a dripping rag gesture at the prostrate bandidos. "Urr... if Zhaag be ask, den Zhaag say maimkillburnrendtear. Dey wot be bring da pain an' deff, dey de-serf da pain an' da deff."

A slow smile and a grubby index finger point up into the sky. "But Sarry-ry-ry, wot Sarry say? Yez, be killin' dose dat no repenting an' keep da being bad dung gits... But rememburz: Da light an' grezz of Sarry shines on da bad an' da good, on all da peoples big an' small. So'z, if chanz be chanz, den we needz ta giff dem chanz ta be good, ya see?"

The greenskin's smile disappears into a frown. "But den, uh, Zhaag coffness, Zhaag haff hedd-ekk furm all diz tinkin'. Umm... Dey be bad dung gits, but needs ta fergiff an' show da errah of der weak-'edd ways. Mebbe dey be made ta be slevv fer summ time, lettem 'elp youse an' ussuns an' da who-da-ever-elses wid 'elp an' wot-da-'elp. An' da ussuns 'elp dem too, 'elp dem not be bad dung gits no more"

The frown now turns into a growl. "But if dey still be bad dung gits, kill 'em. Good clean cut. Daaaaaaaahhhhh."


Summarized translations:
Ma'am, Sir, are y'all sure these buggers were the only ones of the band who had accosted you?
I want to kill them. They who bring pain and death deserve pain and death.
But Sarenrae's light and grace falls upon the good and the evil, the highborn and baseborn, everybody. So, give them a chance. Forgive, if you can.
Still... justice... so, let them serve their time, literally. Justice through forced labour, whoo.
But if they don't repent, KEEL DEM.

[Moranica]

Paiku looks at the orc and then questioning at the rest of the group.

"Is there anything we still need them for? Information? Perhaps a compensation? If not, I propose we let their victims decide on their fate. Afterall, they decided on Oleg's and Svetlana's fate before."

She then turns to the couple.

"Oleg, you suggested hanging them. And our charter gives us every right to do so. Would that be your wish for them?"

[Geckus]

“As the one whose been victimized by these people, goodman Oleg, I would certainly think your input would be welcome. And I certainly thank you for your continued hospitality.”


"There, now we can speak freely," he says. "I am fine with letting these poor beaten souls keep their lives, but if you want even more blood... I won't be stopping you. Either way, I doubt these guys will be able to bother anyone in a while. Or even walk."

“It is not a mater of wanting even more blood, Caerwyn. It`s about justice, and preventing those who would rob and murder others from doing so again the moment our back is turned. If you're not at least mildly interested in curbing the activities of bandits, I have to wonder why you accepted the Swordlord’s charter in the first place.” Wilison sighs and reminds himself to try and be more diplomatic. “I just don’t see a good way of determining if either of these two would even try to turn themselves to better pursuits, or to enforce any punishment but death without remaining here as jailors or putting others at risk.”

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn barely manages to keep his tounge in check as the halfling talks. When the tone of the wizard changes to a more diplomatic one, he manages to calm himself down enough to answer sensibly, though maybe revealing more than he had intented to let these people know about him.

"Well, mister Highhill, if you absolutely need to know, the main reason I joined this expedition was avoid ending up in the gallows myself. You see, the law makes no difference between amateurish thugs like these we just defeated and a true "gentleman of the road". If you stretch the definition, you could have called these people my "collagues" only a few months ago. A... representative of my current employer secured me this opportunity both to ensure my safety and to secure the interests of my patron. And while I certainly support breaking up the bandit group plauging these lands, I can sympathize with the invidiuals that belong to it."

He points his finger at the unconcious Happs. "This man here is a prime example of someone with a cruel father. He needs people to push around, but at the same time is dependant of a higher authority, in this case probably this "Stag Lord" he mentioned. They try to remedy their weak self-esteem by becoming a mirror of their tormenter, but in the end are always dominated by someone with a stronger will. Ironically, for every one of them who ends up as a criminal, there is one who joins the guardsmen." He swifts his attention to the other bandit. "This one, well, I can not say the precise reason that he decided to become a brigand, but most likely he simply got fed up with being poor. And to be honest, if you are born poor, there is not much you can do about it legally. Although after having his friends diced and almost dying himself, I'm quite sure that he is willing to reconsider if the risks are worth the fraction of the loot that he recieves."

After concluding his analyzation of the bandit's psyches, he turns back to Oleg and Wilison. "Well, now that you have a little more insight in the matter, you might want to re-evaluate your stance. Or did I only succeed to add myself to your list of "unrepentant bandits" by being honest about my past? Anyway, before anyone's ultimate fate is sealed, I think Svetlana's opinion should be heard. This matter has probably affected her more than anyone else, but I'm not sure if she has been even asked about her thoughts on the situation."

[DaedalusMkV]

Oleg snorts at Caerwyn's analysis. "You think I was born rich, boy? My family wasn't no wealthy noble bunch. We worked hard for what we had, and I've got what I've got by pullin' myself up by the bootstraps. Bein' poor or what have you isn't any excuse for goin' around stealing from others and harrassin' honest folk who do abide by the laws. You helped us, so you can't be all bad, but this lot didn't do nothing but hurt and steal from everyone too weak to defend themself. Hells, they'd have robbed you blind right here if you hadn't stopped them. Only one thing for that sort of folks."

Svetlana waits a few moments, giving her husband a sideways look, then quietly answers. "I just want them gone, friend. I don't care if they're dead or not, but I never want to have to worry about them again. If you think you can do that, then do whatever you think is best." Oleg sighs, but says nothing to contradict his wife.

[Miraqariftsky]

When Caerwyn seems on the verge of exploding at Willison, Zhaag glowers and glares at him, hand on hilt, only relaxing once there is no more immediate danger to his benefactor.

Zhaag then grunts and sits down on his haunches, scalemail clinking. Nostrils flare and brows furrow as he snorts while pondering the others' words. "Zhaag tink dey be good wurds youse sez. Poor iz poor, mud iz mud, da pits iz da pitz, yah, iz right, wot youse sez. Und y'all's, lookit dem horsies wot dem gits rid-den 'ere on--- deyz be jess mess-un-jar horsies an' farming horsies."

Nodding at Willison, he says, "Wotta yeh sez, liddle master? Lettum go wid uh sir-moon, see wot dey know 'bout dis wotchamacallit Stag Lord git er jess cut der 'edds off an' be done wid 'em?"

The greenskin then rumbles deep in his throat and profers his thigh and forearm to her, crude bandages showing through the rents in his leathers, but jerks a thumb at Caledor. "Uh, sorreh dedent answer yeh err-lee-yur, but 'ere be Zhaag soona-be-scars. But Zhaag tink Zhaag still strong, dat git knife-ear ova yonda, 'e look like 'e need youse 'elp more'n Zhaag do"

[Geckus]

“I see.” Wilison considers for a moment before nodding and offering Caerwyn a short bow. “I thank you for the honesty of your reply, though I must admit it does not sit well with me. I will endeavour in the future to be more mindful of my remarks, to avoid further straining our ability to work together.”

“Whilst I cannot completely agree with your analysis of their motivations, given the lack of anything more than a cursory interaction with them, I am certainly willing to consider other viewpoints than my own. I know enough to know that I know very little…to quote a very insightful, if occasionally aggravating, friend of mine.” Wilison sighs and idly twists a ring on his finger, a habitual gesture when he was trying to come to a decision. “I may be able to help kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I know a certain incantation, one that befuddles the wits and makes its victim believe me to be a good friend - I could try to use this spell upon one of the bandits, to learn both of the Stag Lord and bandit camp, and to get a better feel for if the man would genuinely take to a better path, if one were offered. That said, there would still need to be some form of restitution acceptable to the aggrieved,” Wilison motions towards Oleg and Svetlana, “before I would agree to anything other than the traditional punishment. Is that a compromise acceptable to all?”

[Ancient Hippo]

The conversation had started to make Caerwyn slightly frustrated, and had started to consider just killing the bandits himself and get over with it. Although the idea of an spell which could affect one's mind in such a radical way made him feel a little uncomfortable, he could not deny the merits of Wilison's plans.

"I'm fine with that. Can you cast the spell right now?" He takes a look at the unconcious bandits, and spends a moment thinking. "I personally have a little thing that one of these fellows could help me with. Would my share of the gold and equipment that we loot- erm, acquired from these bandits serve as enough restitution so that at least one could keep his life?"

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor winces as he clutches his shoulder more tightly, before finely relenting. "I would be amenable if someone could help me to patch up my shoulder. I have little reason to suspect this injury to be life threatening, but just as little talents myself, as a healer." It was somewhat painful to him have to admit any weakness, let alone rely upon the abilities of others (especially non-elven practitioners) but he consoled himself with the thought that everyone must have a role and a duty and a talent, and this was simply not his.

To Caerwyn's remarks however he was considerably less amiable. "Our charter is quite clear regarding how to deal with 'unrepentant banditry' so unless this man is willing to repent or otherwise assure of us of his intentions to make right, you could not buy his life with all the gold in Golarion." He remarks, with no small amount of contempt at what he considers to be tantamount to a bribe. "There is of course ample time to have words with them regarding their fate . . . " He continued, casting a sidelong glance at Happs, with no small amount of hatred gleaming in his eyes, "But if restitution is to be made, it should be to the proprietor of the post, not to any of us."

[Miraqariftsky]

The simpleton greenskin looks from one to the other, scrunches up his face and scratches his head. He looks to Willison and asks, "Zhaag be confuzzled. Wotta youse say, boss? Zhaag smile an' say 'Sarry be 'appy, youse be 'appy, alla be 'appy?' Er shod Zhaag get da 'edd-spikes set up an' spike dem 'edds? Er wot?"

Translation: He's confused. Awaiting orders from Willison, whether to just smile and try to "convert" them into oh-so-model citizens or lop their heads off and spike 'em on javelins down the road with signs posted on the shaft saying "Wuz bundet. No be bundet. Iz bad, ya dang gits"

[Ancient Hippo]

Exhausted by the conversation, Caerwyn decides that he does not want to have a part in the matter at all. Why had he even tried to argue at all? After all, if honest people were sensible... They would not be honest people.

With a pinch of added drama in his voice, he starts proclaiming: "Gentlemen, this is leading nowhere. You can decide upon yourselves in which manner you conduct your blood sacrifices to this thing called "justice", and I hope that you excuse me from abstaining from the ceremony due to strong personal convictions. If you need me, I'll be burying these fellows before they start to stink."

Without further ado, he starts to drag one of the dead bandits outside, where he borrows a spade from the storehouse and starts digging outside of the trading post.

[DaedalusMkV]

Oleg immediately shakes his head at the suggestion the captured bandit be left in his service. "What do I look like, some sort of lord? I ain't got time to watch over some cutthroat bandit. Only restit... Compensation I want is to see these bastards brought to justice so they never bother us again. You want to use them as pack animals, fine by me, but I'll have nothing to do with them." After Caerwyn's dramatic statement, the middle-aged trader frowns and shakes his head again. "He makes it sound like we're the bad guys for punishing a bunch of murderers and thieves. Might as well find him the shovel, though, if he's going to go to the trouble of disposing of them for me." With this, Oleg returns to his home for a few minutes, then heads back out to hand Caerwyn the tool.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group prepares to interrogate their captives. Both unconscious men are bound with rope from Oleg's stockpile and a bucket filled with cold water from the well. While the half-dead unnamed bandit doesn't respond to the drenching, Happs immediately starts awake with a cough and a splutter, at first showing confusion on his far from handsome face and then hatred as he sees his captors. He spits at Caledor's feet, then angrily states "You don't know what you're doing. You let me go right now, or the Stag Lord'll burn down this whole place, and you with it! And you, pointy-ears! I'll flay you myself! Keep your damned skin as a rug!" Even as he rants at Caledor he wriggles and struggles against the rope binding him, trying vainly to escape.


He sounds like he means it, though how exactly he plans to carry out the threat while tied up, unarmed and completely surrounded by enemy combatants is less certain. Perhaps the man actually believes that this 'Stag Lord' will come to help him, or maybe he's just good at making his empty threats sound sincere. Or he's just delusional.

[Miraqariftsky]

While Happs is occupied with ranting and raving, Zhaag rolls his eyes, pulls a rolled-up pair of socks from his pack and shoves it into Happs' mouth as a makeshift gag. "Youse iz too loud wid da yagga-yagga-yagga"

"Ey knife-ears" Zhaag calls out to Caledor. "Wodda-hecka da matta wid dis git? Ded youse kill 'is mum or sumfink?"

Rummaging once more in his ever trusty pack, he takes out a torch and lights it with flint and steel. He then reaches behind him, flicks out a war-razor that had been tucked into his belt. He holds the short, broad blade in the flame until it is good and hot.

Zhaag slaps Happs upside the head to get his attention then with one savage move pulls down the bandit leader's breeches. Brandishing the now-glowing blade, the halforc says, "Youse likes da noise, do ya? Zhaag tink youse no like be... singing. Youse wond'rin' why Zhaag no beat youse? Iz simple. Zhaag be stoopeed, Zhaag know dat, but Zhaag know too dat youse iz 'ard boy. 'Ard boyz need be breakin'. Youse be answer der questions uv dese not-so-gennellmen er elze youse be singin' an' den be da breakin"


Intimidate [roll0] (plus whatever circumstance bonus the chief deigns to toss out)

Alrighty then. Whoever wants to question, go ahead and question 'im. If he's still uncooperative, [REDACTED].

^: What? He learned "breaking" under the slavers, Boss Marzak, freelance hobgoblin pit-master.

OOC note: Goddamnit, this don't feel right.

[Moranica]

Paiku listens to everyone, but decides to not get involved. Tension seemed to mount for a moment, and that's not something she is keen on. Especially those quick conversations. They are so hard to follow.

But when Caledor asks for a quick patch up, she is glad to help out. Casting a cure light wounds on him so close the skin again.

Heals [roll0]

[Geckus]

“Zhaag! That’s enough of that!”

Wilison’s shout carries the harsh bite of a command, and something that his sometimes sharp words with Caerwyn never had - the heat of true anger behind them.

Calm, Wil, calm…talk with him later. Harm’s already done, make use of what he’s given you.

“Now then, Happs, was it? I suggest you talk less and listen more, at least for the moment, or I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my friend here from following through on his threat.”

Speaking a few words in an arcane tongue, Wilison hit’s the captive bandit with his best mesmerizing charm, drawing the energy for the spell through the ring on his finger - a simple focusing device he’d made early in his apprenticeship. He follows that spell with another, simpler magic to see of the magic had taken hold on his mind or not.

“Now then, I’d like to given you the opportunity to tell me a bit more about this Stag King and the rest of your group…it might make the difference in what we decide to do with you all.”


Casting Charm Person, followed by Detect Magic to see if it worked.

Unless you want to RP out the whole interrogation, Wil intends to ask about the Bandit King (what territory he claims, how many bands follow him, where his camp is), the group that has been threatening the outpost (where the camp is, how many are there and away, defences or guard animals at the camp, how many other people and places they’ve hit), any other major threats in the area that he know of. Unless the charm works, he won’t really expect much in the way of honest answers, but will try to watch any truths that might slip (sense motive?).

If the charm takes, he’ll ask about the rest of their band, how they normally operate, who’s reliable for doing ‘dirty work’ and who is still ‘squeamish’ - basically try and winnow out anyone that might not be wholly bad.

[DaedalusMkV]

Happs immediately loses his air of confidance at Zhaag's threats, flinching back and cowering away from the brutal half-orc's blade. "No, no please... Don't." He whimpers, struggling against his bonds. At this point, absolutely terrified, he doesn't have anything approaching the presence of mind to throw off Wilison's spell. His expression changes from one of abject terror to desperation. "Please, friend, please, keep this monster away from me. Please!" He begs the halfling Wizard, shaking. "I don't want to die. We're not bandits, not really. Nobody rules this place, so there ain't no laws to break! The Stag Lord's the only one what has any real power around here, y'know. At least, that's what Kressle tells me. I've never seen him myself, Kressle runs our camp and just sends the Stag Lord's cut south every once in a while." He looks around at the rest of the group, scowling at Caledor, then back to Wilison and whispers, "Look, you don't seem like a bad sort. You should help me out here, let me go. You can come back with me, and we can get Kressle and the rest of the boys and teach these bastards a lesson. You'll get a full cut, and you can join up! It's really a pretty good life, once ya get used to it."


Happs will likely say more, and if nothing else can give you a good idea of the number of bandits at his camp as well as its' location, but not unless you calm him down a bit by getting Zhaag out of his view (he's still seriously panicked). Right now he still views everyone but Wilison as enemies, so their presence isn't helping either.

Also, I've updated XP in the first post of the OOC. You're now officially one quarter of the way to level 2.

[Miraqariftsky]

The savage simpleton reels as if struck
The glowing blade flies from flinching fingers
It clatters to the floor, clinking on a rock
Zhaag shakes his head, out of the room staggers

WAAAGH ghRtaa Jgfaaahrrrg Khddaaarrggghh...

In the courtyard he walks, staring at the sun
When tears flow no more, he takes off at a run
When tree-like legs wobble, he wavers and crawls
To where Caerwyn digs the graves, himself there hauls

Despite astonishment, despite protest
Oleg's shovel he tries not to rest
But sets to with his own latrine-spade
Wordless but for growls, he lets not his fury fade

Four pits he digs with his great might
But the last, for Happs or for himself?
Neither question nor answer he cares to delfe
Once more he shakes his head, trying to make wrong right


Koff. Spontaneous sonnet. W'elp. Alrighty. He's outta there... and hopefully the utterly strange behaviour might creep/unnerve/resettle Happs further so's to help with interrogation.

Also... I can honestly say that I am getting weirded out by my own character. I originally intended for him to simply be "Comic Relief / Meat-Masher". I did not expect... drama. Apparently... he's a survivor of trauma as well but has an inner beast for which he always tries to atone?

Then again, that move? Cold, deliberate... and apparently effective. Justified as well, or at least, attempted to be justified.

Am I correct in the assumption, no, the understanding, that such horrible acts as this are classed as Evil, contrary to Sarenite doctrine... and beyond the conception of somebody with an Int score of 7 and a Wis score of 13?

Hurrible.

[Geckus]

Wilison fights back the urge to go after Zhaag, feeling a bit chagrined that he’d let his temper get the better of him, even momentarily. He knew how much the big lug wanted, perhaps needed, the approval of his peers - snapping at him probably hurt more than the sword wounds he’d taken earlier.

We’ll work it out…it’s not the first time nor the last that his past will push him into things he shouldn’t do.

Forcing his attention back to the captive Happs, he considers the bandit’s words, looking for useful information and a way to bring out the information - much easier under his spell‘s influence, but not a sure thing if he pushed the wrong way.

Hmm, so this Stag Lord has his followers send tribute south, but doesn‘t come this way himself…sounds like Kressle is the only one with contact.

“I can’t say as I’d been overly keen on following this Kressle; I’m more of a ‘run the operation’ kind of man, myself.” Wilison says in a lower, more conspiratorial tone of voice. “Surely a man such as yourself could have been leading the camp instead of Kressle…what has he done to earn the loyalty of you and your men?”

[Moranica]

Paiku remains in the background during the interrogation. She just sits still watches, her face without expression. It's quite obvious this was not her normal cup of tea, but life in the woods told her that sometimes harsh measures are a neccesity.

What will happen next? Best to stick around. I've heard of healers that are present during interrogation. To check on the subject and prevent an early death from the victim.

[DaedalusMkV]

Happs looks thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "Yeah, you're right, I'm usually not one for following orders either. But Kressle... Well, let's say it's a lot more fun being on her good side than her bad side, y'know what I mean? Keep her happy and she's pretty easygoing, even good for a roll in the hay sometimes if you know what I mean. When she gets mad, though..." He shudders. "Saw her chop up a wounded deer with those axes of hers, once. She's even worse than that half-Orc of yours; she likes hurting people, I think. Plus she's an absolute hellion in a fight. You wanna try to take over, be my guest. Me, I'm gonna keep my head down. Number two isn't so bad, and the Stag Lord's operation's getting bigger all the time. Pretty soon I'll be running a camp of my own, I bet." He frowns, looks down and struggles with his bonds for a moment. "At least, if I ever get out of here. Bit of a setback, this. I don't suppose..." His face whitens and the panicked expression returns to his face. "Oh gods, they're all dead, aren't they? All dead and me captured and Oleg didn't pay. Nine Hells, she'll kill me. Or worse! Look, you wanna take over, fine. You seem like a much better leader than Kressle anyhow. I'll take you to the camp, you and your pet murderer can take on Kressle. All you need to do is let me join your crew instead. We got a deal?"


Sorry for the delay, was hit by unexpected company.

[Miraqariftsky]

Not knowing what to do
Head spinning with much to rue
Zhaag hurls his shirt off and dunks his head
In the horses' trough, then fishes about in his pack for mead

Some clarity wrested back, but no smartness yet
He takes out his stone and begins to whet
But feels a chill and shucks back on
Tunic and scale grace the brawn

Outside, he sits, steel on stone a-scraping
Meditating on the rhythmic grating of the whetting
Sword's edge gleams
This iron fang, keen as madness' dreams

On, the Slasher waits and whets
Waiting on the Little Master's orders, for mercies or bloodlets

[ChaosLord29]

Having listened in earnest to Happ's speech, Caledor approaches the man releasing pressure on his shoulder momentarily to assume a more imposing figure. He spares a glance at Zhaag for just a moment, willing to let the 'knife ears' comment slide for now, given the effectiveness the brute had in making this man amenable. Leaning down he looks into Happ's eyes with a steely glare and grips the hilt of his sword, drawing it from it's scabbard just a hairsbreadth, causing it to issue the slightest, audible rasp of metal.

"Our orders come from the Sword Lords of Restov, and they are to deal with unrepentant brigands like yourself with summary justice. Death by the sword or at the end of the rope is more than your kind deserves." He utters the words like a hot brand, fresh from the forge. "But . . . " Trailing off, he sheathes his sword, half-drawn, and turns away. "If you are indeed willing to show us the way to your camp, I suppose that would qualify as 'repentance'. You will take us their, by the most expedient route, and when your former colleagues are dispatched, then we will consider your justice once more."

Turning to face his fellow explorers, he eyes Caerwyn particularly, "Any objections to this course of action?"

[Moranica]

As Caledor speaks, a more unlikely person speaks up. Namely Paiku, the small gnome, steps forward and looks strict.

"You do realise what risks this would bring, do you? I need not be an oracle to spin several possible "mishaps" or problems that our bandit might cause. We are in lawless country here. So he has no reason to fear anyone, should he get free. His motivation to help us, and "repent" is doubtful at best. Once we get in bandit territory, he would a serious problem. Not to mention that only he knows when we are in bandit territory. One shout, a bit of ruckus, a sneeze for all I care, and he might have given away our element of surprise."

"No, I say, let him repent her and spill all the info we need. He should remain here, in custody, and should his information be correct and we return, we could discuss if his repenting was enough. And even if we fail and not return, he will still meet justice here."

Paiku remains calm and focused during her entire speech. After she finishes, she crosses her arms in front of her and waits for a reaction. She hasn't looked at Happs the entire time.

[DaedalusMkV]

With the matter of the captured bandits settled, the Swordlords' explorers begin making their preparations to head out into the wilderness. Svetlana offers a simple but hearty breakfast of bread and broth, while Oleg collects the weapons and armour left by the fallen bandits and promises to finish Caerwyn's work burying them. Finally, with new horses saddled where necessary and everything packed, it is time to set out. Oleg and Svetlana come by the trading post's gate to see you off. Oleg sounds gruff, but it's clear from the slight smile on his face that he's quite pleased altogether. "Never thought I'd be happy to see a bunch of explorers around here, but I am. You ever need a place to stay, you'll always be welcome here at Oleg's. Meanwhile, I'll get to cleaning up all this gear those bastard bandits left around, see if I can't sell some of it to the locals. I'll make sure to give you all a share of the profit when you come back. Don't worry about those prisoners; I'll turn 'em over to the guards, whenever they bother to show up."

Svetlana, meanwhile, has a few small requests. "I know you're going to be busy with the bandits and everything, but one of our regulars seems to have gone missing. He's a trapper named Breeg, not very social but a good, reliable customer around here. He went southwest to his usual trapping grounds about a fortnight ago, and we expected him back three or four days ago. I'd appreciate it if you looked for him; he might have run into trouble with the bandits. Or worse." She looks sidelong at Oleg for a moment, then continues quietly so he can't hear. "Also, I didn't want to say anything in front of my husband, but the last time those ruffians came through they made off with my wedding ring. Oleg saved for a year to buy it, and he'd be furious if he heard it was stolen. He thinks I've just sent it to the city for repairs, and he's already worried it's not back yet. If you can get it back, I have an old magic cloak stored away that I can give you in exchange."

*****

Goodbyes said and preparations complete, the explorers finally set out into the Greenbelt an hour or so before noon. The initial stages of the journey are easy, the group's horses speeding their travel through the simple grasslands around the trading post greatly. There is little to see in this area; apart from frequent copses of trees and the occasional pond the area is as flat and empty as the plains of Brevoy to the north. While there are few signs of humanoid occupation, the area teems with animal life. Flocks of birds pass overhead every few minutes and you catch regular glimpses of rabbits, squirrels, elk and deer. It's easy to see why the area attracts trappers despite the danger of bandits and wildlife to contend with.

As the hours wear on the plains give way to a thick forest. Signs of wildlife are even more present here, with trees obviously scraped and clawed by some sort of large wild animal and the occasional sound in the distance which might well be a wolf's howl. While not as overrun and impassable as many old growth forests, it slows your progress considerably. Combined with the group's already slowed pace to keep notes, explore areas of interest and map the terrain your pace is less than half what you'd expect the bandits would have managed in a straight line, and as the sun begins to set it's clear that you'll need to make camp for the night. You manage to find a suitable clearing with a small but remarkably clean brook running nearby and dismount the horses to prepare the camp for the night.

As the sun begins to set you start to settle in, and it's rather a shock when four furry shapes come hurtling out of the dense undergrowth. Whether the wolves have stumbled upon you or been stalking for some time before striking is uncertain, but the stealthy creatures are upon you before you know what's happening. Four wolves bound into the camp, one attacking the now-panicked horses while the rest focus their efforts on the humanoids guarding the camp. Two wolves hurl themselves at Paiku, as the smallest and weakest-looking of the adventurers, while the third bounds up to the already-wounded Caledor.


Zhaag is the only one who made his Perception check to act in the surprise round, which means that he gets to start the fight with weapon in hand and ready. The rest of you are flat-footed until you act and armed only with whatever weapons you would carry for hours at a time. Initiative blocks are:
Zhaag, Wilison, Caledor, Paiku
Wolves
Everyone
Wolves
etc.

ChaosLord, since a fair bit of time has passed I'll give you an opportunity to ask Paiku for a healing spell during the travel to heal some of Caledor's damage before this fight happens.

Otherwise, the results of the wolves' charge is as follows:
Paiku takes 5 damage and is Tripped to prone. Two wolves are adjacent to her.
Caledor takes 4 damage and is also Tripped. One Wolf adjacent.
The horses are Panicked and straining against their tethers. It will not take long for the wolf or their own actions to injure them severely.

Everyone else is currently unengaged. The first PC initiative block is up. All of you but Caerwyn managed to win initiative over the wolves. Assume that a single Move action is enough to bring you into melee range of any of the wolves.

Everyone else

[Miraqariftsky]

Though he has seldom been out in the woods, Zhaag's survivalist wariness serves him well. Eyes and ears that are used to dungeons, sewers and prison bars spot the grey loping shapes rustling through the foliage just before they surge into the camp.

"EY YOUSE!" the simpleton savage yells to his companions as he lets his oversized and pointy-ended walking stick drop to the grass and rips out his trusty scimitar.

Mud and fur fly. Snarling fangs snap and gnash. Panicked horses struggle against their bonds. The fighting is now up in close quarters, too close for a polearm. Zhaag hefts his shield in the other arm, stomps over to the wolves about to rip Paiku apart and delivers a curt cut to the closest one. He then yells once more, to try and get their attention. "BAD DOGGIES! GERROFFAHER!"


Round Zero
AoO with warscythe [has reach]
[roll0]
[roll1]

[free action, drop the warscythe]
[Move to the ones around Paiku]

Regular attack
[roll2]
[roll3]

[Moranica]

A loud scream pierces the afternoon, for as the sun goes down, so do a pair of wolf jaws on Paiku's leg.

"AAAAAHHH!!!!!"

Seconds later, another dark shape jumps amids the pack and bites at the wolves.

"MORO!!!"


Moro charge. [roll0]; [roll1]
Paiku steps away from the wolves and casts sanctuary on herself.

[DaedalusMkV]

Zhaag charges into the fight with characteristic ferocity but an unfortunate lack of precision, allowing his target to deftly evade his flashing scimitar. Meanwhile, Paiku calls for the aid of her own loyal canine companion, who arrives to leap at the other opposing wolf and results in a tumble of fur, fang and claw as the two fight for dominance. Wilison also comes to the Gnomish Oracle's aid, quickly chanting words of magic to throw a wave of scintillating rainbow light at the other wolf, rendering it utterly helpless as its animal mind is overcome by the spell's befuddling power.

Caledor, without his sword in hand, falls back on magic and attempts the same. Unfortunately, the wolf mauling him disrupts his concentration enough to foul his hand gestures, foiling the spell. It is a distraction the wolf quicky takes advantage of, tearing at the Elven Magus' throat in a gory display. The other wolf, in the scuffle with Moro, fares more poorly and doesn't manage to cause any telling injuries. Meanwhile, the terrified screaming of your horses is more than enough to indicate the continued activity of the final wolf.


Zhaag and Moro both miss their attacks, unfortunately. Wilison advances and catches both of the wolves attacking Paiku with a Color Spray, which one of the wolves fails the save to be Unconscious for six rounds and Stunned and Blind for three more. In short, that one's pretty much screwed.

Caledor tries to Cast Defensively to do the same, but flubbs the roll. I assumed that he wouldn't risk the AOO from standing, since basically any more damage would knock him unconscious and give the wolf a chance at a Coup de Grace.

The wolves counterattack, the one attacking Caledor inflicting 6 more damage and knocking him unconscious. The one attacking Moro has worse luck, missing entirely. Finally, one of them is probably still attacking your non-Combat trained horses. That might turn out kind of bad if you don't deal with it.

You're all up again.

[Ancient Hippo]

"Damn it!"

Caerwyn had fumbled and dropped his weapon when the wolves attacked, and when he picks it up, the wolves have already managed to trip two of his companions, one of whom seems to be near the death's door.

Cursing, he quickly reloads his crossbow, and takes a better view at the battleground. Around Paiku there were too many people to get a clear shot, and he did not want to risk accidentally shooting Moro instead of the other wolf. They kind of looked the same for him.

As his eyes move along the battlefield, he spots Caledor lying in the ground bleeding, and the wolf who felled him. "Poor guy, seems like gnome chicks are more popular around these parts," he thinks to himself, and smiles a little, but his smile fades as he lifts his weapon. Fully knowing that if he missed, the elf was dead, he considers for a split second asking his divine patron for help, but dismisses the tought. He had already recieved help at the trading post, and he did not believe that the Headless King cared much about his companions. And Caerwyn knew better than to push the issue.

Having reloaded his crossbow without concious thought about the matter, he makes a final adjustment and lets the bolt fly.


Shooting the wolf next to Caledor.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag's blow sinks into the soil as the wolf leaps aside, snarling. The halforc snarls back and spits full on into its eyes. Hard-booted feet scuff in the scrub as he backsteps, then half-lunges, jabbing with his shield's rim and deflects one wolf's pounce, right into the growling thunderbolt that is Moro as he leaps to his mistress' defence.

Just then, Zhaag hears the Little Master's chanting. Though he is a stupid savage and quite a blunt brute with no hope of ever comprehending the mysteries of magick, he recognizes the tone of the incantation and he ducks beneath his shield right as a brilliant blast of riotous colours blinds one of the beasts menacing the bleeding Paiku. Ensorcelled, it crumples.

Growling and grinning, Zhaag scuttles crab-like and maneuvers to flank the remaining beast with Moro. Though he now sees the world through the throbbing red haze of battle-rage, he retains enough sense to know the difference between fighting men and fighting beasts. He holds his blow, timing the stroke just right as the two canines snarl and yip and growl and whine and rip at one other with fury of fur and fangs... then he sees his opening and the scimitar flashes down, a heavy blow aimed right at the heaving beast's backbone.


Chief, tactical sitrep?
One wolf engaged with Moro--- grappling or otherwise?
One wolf ensorcelled, presumably out for the count for the duration of this encounter?
One wolf ripping Caledor to shreds?
One wolf ripping the horses to shreds?*
*Fight or Flight, they may not be warhorses, but hooves should still be flying, yes? How many horses did we bring? Three, presumably?

ZHAAG"S ATTACK: HP 15/15 AC 15 (-2 Rage)
[roll0] *PA -1/+2 (+2 from Flanking)
[roll1]

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor falls to the ground unconscious, the sudden attack by the wolves causing new injuries and tearing his all to recent wounds, reducing in a sudden drop in blood pressure. The proud elf's eyes roll back into his head and he is easy prey for the wolves now closing in upon him.

[DaedalusMkV]

Caerwyn's bolt strikes true, divine intervention or not, burying itself in the wolf's flank with a wet thud. The creature recoils in pain, but clearly isn't finished yet. Zhaag times his own attack expertly, his curved blade cutting through tendon and bone to cripple the wolf attacking Moro, which Paiku's companion takes swift advantage of to rip the creatures throat free, leaving it twitching as lifesblood flows from the clearly fatal wound. Wilison turns his attention to the creature savaging Caledor, drawing a knife from his belt and using his magic to hurl it at the creature, but his aim is off and the thrown weapon flies wide of the target and returns to his hand dry. Paiku hangs back from the fight, uncertain how to proceed.

From the tangle of horses comes another equine scream, and one of the animals crashes to the ground as wounded legs can no longer support its weight. Finally realizing that they cannot flee the horses themselves begin to fight back, hooves raising and falling they attempt to crush their tormenter beneath their weight. They manage a few glancing blows, but the wolf quickly darts out of the pack and rushes back into the bushes, leaving little trace of its presence.

With nothing left to stop it the final wolf moves to finish off Caledor, lunging towards his vitals even as it prepares to flee with its surviving packmate. Just as the canine's jaws begin to close, however, its ears perk up as though hearing something silent to the rest of you, then collapses senselessly to the ground. Nothing left to threaten her, Paiku runs forwards and uses the last of her magic to heal the Elven warrior's injuries.


One wolf fled.
One wolf dead.
One wolf unconscious as a result of Wilison's spell, uninjured.
One wolf unconscious as a result of who-knows-what, with a rather nasty crossbow wound.
One horse lamed and badly injured. You lack the restorative magic to deal with the injury.
Three horses panicked and lightly injured as a result of their own struggles.

Paiku heals Caledor: [roll0]

Paiku knows that the wolves were not behaving as they should. Wolves normally avoid fire if at all possible and rarely attack groups of humanoids, much less groups of humanoids with animals that outnumber them. Something must have caused this group to act so uncharictaristically.

[Miraqariftsky]

"RARAAARRGH--- uhr... uh... wot?" The halforc's savage roar suddenly turns into a bemused snorting.

Casting about and seeing that there are no other immediate threats, using an unbloodied patch of the dead wolf's fur, he wipes the blood off his blade, then sheathes it. Zhaag then stoops to retrieve his warscythe from where it fell, then stomps over to Caledor. He stabs the butt into the soft earth then extends an arm to the elf.

"Oi Caal-dee-yurr" he growls. "'Ere be walkin' stick. Uh pointy walky stick. Tekket. Still be more o' dem buggers outta thar an' yer still plenny wobbly"

Nodding to Paiku, he says, "Paiku. Iz da youse arright? Duzz Zhaag kill dat udder bad doggie wot da Little Master magicked an' dat poor dung horsie? Or do ya gots moar bannydges an' healy juice fer dem-wots?"


^Dat stuff. Plus, keeping the Rage-motor running for its full term, in case they're just regrouping for a second wave.

[Ancient Hippo]

The immediate threat over, Caerwyn takes his time pondering what would be the best way to act in this situation. Oddly-behaving wolves? How in the nine layers of hell he was supposed to know what to do with them? Truly, this is a situation beyond his scope.

"This has been a long day, and I am tired. With your permission, I'll retire to my tent." He briefly considers the possiblity of further wolf attacks, but dismisses the tought. They would probably get tangled in the fabric. An entertaining sight, yes, but not one to lose your night's sleep for.

[Miraqariftsky]

"Wot duh?" Zhaag mutters at Caerwyn's retiring, then, after making sure his injured comrades can stand and move for themselves, he scratches his head and kneels down to the Little Master's level to ask instructions "Wot da doing now, boss? Make da... ohhhh. Arrighty den".

Zhaag, being the least injured of the lot, sets about the rest of the camp's security. With his trusty latrine shovel, he digs two layers of trenches about their camp. His body steams with sweat in the cold night air, but he goes on to gather branches, whet them and plant stakes around their perimeter.

Once that's done, he passes out a scanty dinner of beef jerky to the rest of the group, then sets up Willison's tent, but for sets himself with his back against a tree. There, he hones his blades, dark-wise eyes glaring into the shadows.


W'elp. First watch. Who's taking the rest of the night?

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor awakens under the healing hands of Paiku, struggling to his feet, still very much injured, but still considerably better off than a few moments ago. He looks around, wordless, taking in what has happened in the aftermath of his unconsciousness. 'Absolutely unaaceptable.' He berates himself, 'Being bloodied and broken by a pack of wild beasts! How could I have brought such humiliation upon myself!"[/I] He keeps his lips pressed tight together, rising to his feet with his knuckles clenched tight around the hilt of his sword. Silently he moves to the unconscious but still breathing wolves and plunges his swords into the throats of the remaining beasts in turn. Vindictively he finishes off the wolves as they had been about to finish off him, before cleaning his sword and sheathing it again in disgust.

It is a long moment before he can calm himself enough to turn towards Paiku, thanking him for reviving him and the others in turn. His companions are mercifully silent regarding his performance (or lack there of in the conflict) and after inquiring as to the details while he was unconscious, takes for himself a brief dinner of rations and offers to take the second watch for the night. While initially somewhat resentful towards the half-orc and his strikingly contrasted performance during the recent battle, he finds it fading as he settles himself in and watches Zhaag go about his business setting up camp.

He was obviously an excellent fighter, brutal certainly, but perhaps not brutish. He also displayed a surprising amount of wariness and healthy prudence especially here in the wilderness. He would have said it was fine intuition, but given the way he behaved towards Paiku was more inclined to call it good training or good taming even. Never the less, while Zhaag sharpened his weapons, Caledor joined him across the fire in seeing to his own equipment. [B]"Zhaag, how did you come to know your . . ." He struggled for the right word to describe the half-orc and Paiku's relationship, "your charge: Paiku."

[Miraqariftsky]

"Iz... wot?" Zhaag replies to Caledor, his squat and scarred face reflected over the thick, curved blade of his scimitar. His head tilts to one side, jaw hanging slightly open, eyes blinking slowly as he puzzles over the elfblood's words.

Finally, after it almost seems to Caledor that the halforc may have nodded off, he stirs and frowns, then shrugs. Zhaag shakes his whetstone at the elfblood as he says, "Oi, ya means da healy lady wid da doggy? Zhaag not know. Da liddle master un' Zhaag wuz meetin' y'all's lot juzz da day bee-fore, wuzzent-itt? Charge da wot? Zhaag charge ta get to da choppa an' choppa summ moar, yezz, iffen dat wot youse be meanin'."

Zhaag's lip curls back in a half-snarl, jutting brow furrowing, sword-hand's knuckles twitching... yet he doesn't raise his voice in return. "Und whoi youse a-shoutin'? Be youse wannin' tuh wey-uk duh udders urr be brengen' da beasties uh-gehn?"

[DaedalusMkV]

Canine predators driven off or killed, the remainder of the night passes quietly and uneventfully. One member of the Swordlords' representatives after another takes up position on watch, but no further threats present themselves. As the morning dawns you reawaken in your small island in an ocean of vibrant green forest. It helps drive home the purpose behind the region's name; the Greenbelt is fertile and positively teeming with life. If it can be tamed, it could easily become the breadbasket for an entire nation.

Camp is packed up quickly and you resume the southwestarly journey to the bandits' camp, or at least the general location given to you by Happs before you left the Levetons' trading post. Though your pace is slowed slightly by the lost horse from the previous night's attack, you still make excellent time in the morning light. About an hour before noon you come upon a large clearing, almost cultivated in appearance. In the clearing is a huge patch of vegetables, primarily radishes. There is little else of interest in the area, so you mark the location down on your map before moving on.

As the day turns to midafternoon, you reach the general area you suspect the bandit camp will be in. Proceeding more cautiously, you eventually see what appears to be the smoke of a campfire in the distance, almost certainly your target...

Caledor:

The first time during the day that you attempt to drink from your waterskin, instead of the freshwater you filled it with the previous day you find that it contains a bitter fruit juice which quickly dyes your lips a crimson red. While it doesn't seem to be harmful, it certainly isn't what you were expecting.

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor moves through the forest with a renewed purpose following the night's rest, determined to even the score and prove his worth in combat against these thrice cursed bandits. So focused was he on how best to dispatch them with blade and spell that as they approached more cautiously now, he did not even notice at first the oddness of the water in his waterskin. Lifting to his lips, he spluttered after a moment and spat upon the ground before looking at the polluted vessel suspiciously. Pouring some out onto his hand he found the contents had indeed changed without his knowledge, but he could not establish how . . .

At first of course he suspected some sort of sabotage from the bandits, but this seemed impossible. Next, his companions, perhaps this was somesort of prank of trick, but that two did not seem likely given how swiftly they had moved and closely they had been watching. Opening his senses to any magical properties he did his best to keep pace while examining the waterskin further.


Casting Detect Magic and examining the waterskin.

[Moranica]

The walk is refreshing as Paiku and Moro move along. All of her newfound friends are still doing ok, but she herself carried the pinkish flesh, from freshly healed wounds. Those wolves cut into her pretty badly when they did, so she decided to keep Moro closer by from now on.

As they walk on Paiku spots Caledor's lips.

"Are you alright? Bit your cheek did you? You must have really sharp teeth if you manage to draw that much blood! Huh, you could challenge Moro to a biting contest.", she says with a smile. "Let me know though, if you need help."

It's obvious that her initial nervousness is diminished, now that the group has shown to be reliable and strong. Paiku is still not sure if she will be able to keep this group alive though, but they'd be a worse without her.

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag awoke with the dawn, as he always had. After his morning prayers and seeing to the party's breakfasts, he hangs back at the rear, guarding Willison as he always had.

The halforc yawns expansively and stretches with many a crack. He feels the aches of yesterdays exertion.

Spotting Caledor's apparent consternation, he shambles forward and says, "Eh yurp, youse, wossamatta?"

[ChaosLord29]

" . . . Nothing, I suppose it's nothing." Caledor shakes his head then goes to drink from the waterskin again. He had to admit the juice was somewhat more refreshing than simple water, though even he had to admit it was something of an acquired taste. Either way, he did not want to give whatever would-be trickster any further satisfaction. He only had to keep from spilling it on his clothes, as he was quite convinced it would stain them readily.

The thought briefly crossed his mind that the juice might be poisonous, he still considered it enough of a point of spite so as to ignore his judgement.

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn follows the others while mercilessly devouring the poor radish he had captured earlier. He had had a little trouble managing to find a little privacy for his morning prayers, (which could be slightly... off-putting for the uninitiated) but managed it eventually, and coupled with the good night's sleep felt like he could wrestle with a bear.

In his invigorated state, he had started to hope that they would run in some more bandits... And sure enough, soon he spotted smoke rising in the sky, a sign that they were nearing the camp...

He signs the others to remain quiet, then draws his crossbow and begins moving towards the source of the smoke, keeping an eye for any hills that could be used to better assess the situation.


Making a stealth roll just in case we stumble onto something that requires one:

Stealth: [roll0]

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag's brow furrows as he tries to puzzle out what exactly had happened. Eventually shrugging, and seeing that something's afoot, he straps on his shield, draws his scimitar and crouches behind the bole of a great spreading oak. He hisses to the others, "Eh, eh, duzz wezz WAAAGH in now?"

[DaedalusMkV]

Led by Caerwyn, your intrepid explorers slowly advance through the forest towards what appears to be a large campfire. The secretive Inquisitor leaves the three less stealthy members of the group a small ways behind as he heads forwards to scout the area. It doesn't take long before you can hear the sound of rushing water and eventually what sounds like the muted noises of men talking. Before long the source of both comes into view; near the headwaters of what sounds like a mighty river, the group of bandits mentioned by Happs has made camp. Half a dozen tents are set up haphazardly throughout a large clearing, with a still-smoldering campfire in the middle, perhaps used to cook lunch a short time before. A number of fallen logs and tree stumps have been set up around the fire to provide seating, and throughout the camp you can see at least half a dozen bandits out in the open, plus another in a somewhat-concealed platform built halfway up a pair of trees. They don't seem to be particularly vigilant, though a few do seem to have been deployed as guards. As to the hard, axe-wielding woman mentioned by both Happs and the Levetons, there is no sign.

While it's hard to make out many details of the individual bandits from this distance, they all seem to have bows either on their backs or near at hand, as well as an odd assortment of melee weapons.

What you can see:
http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/B-campMap.png

[Moranica]

Paiku listens as Caerwyn reports back. She shows slight trembling, most likely of fear. Nonetheless, she speaks out.

"Did you get a count on them? What's the plan. I can contribute healing and fog for infiltration or fleeing."

[Miraqariftsky]

Quietly as he could, Zhaag creeps over to the nearby shrubbery. He sheathes his scimitar and shoulders his shield for the moment, then drags up finger by finger, drags up his "pointy walking stick".

He nods to the others, then jerks his jutting jaw at the bandit encampment. Zhaag says, "Arright, youse. Lezz git stuck in, iz wot. Zhaag WAAAGH in, roight down der senna. Youse knifears, Caal-ye-door un' Curr-win, foller Zhaag an' CHOPPA dat bugger near yon fire. Youse magicky gits, liddle master un' Paiku, BURNA dat udder bugger on da side. Und, uh, do wotehvs y'all tink be magicky best affer dat"

"Arright, youse gots dat?" Zhaag nods again, flexes his fingers around the polearm's haft, lowers the heavy gleaming blade, then bursts from the shrubberies, bellowing and frothing, tanned bear-heads on his hide jerkin and cloak flapping and champing.

"WAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!"


W'elp. Hope this works.
And if it doesn't, that "pointy walking stick" should have an AoO for the first bandido who counterattacks.


HP 15/15 (+2 from Rage) AC 11/17 (-2 Shield, -2 Rage, -2 Charge)
Raging, Charging, Power Attacking
[roll0]
[roll1]

Mwahahaha! ~pat the pet dice daemons~

[Ancient Hippo]

"Wait, are you sure..."

Caerwyn falls quiet as he notices that Zhaag was, indeed, sure that charging was the best option. He manages to barely draw his crossbow before the large half-orc charges in the middle of the battle.

Deciding that Zhaag probably knew, despite his... cognitive shortcomings more about charging headlong into battle than he did, he follows the rushing barbarian a short distance before taking aim at one of the bandits near the campfire, his annoyment at not being able to use his radish plan somehow giving his bolts a little more speed.


HP 8/8 AC 16 Saves: F/2 W/2 R/2

Move action: Follow Zhaag, but not all the way. (He figures that if he is near a larger and more menacing ally then the said ally will draw fire from him.)

Swift action: Use the "Destruction" judgement.

Standard action: Fire at one of the bandits near the campfire. (Maybe you could number them?)

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[ChaosLord29]

Caledor moves up in support of Zhaag, but stays a few strides back. The pain of his injuries is still fresh and he takes the moment to magically gird himself lest he wade into combat unprepared and prove himself once more a liability to the others. Gauging the distance from himself to the bandits, he marks which ones are armed with bows and and which ones appear to be engaging Zhaag at present, ready to provide his orcish ally with the assistance of arcane fire should he require.


Move action to advance, but stay about 15ft back from Zhaag, maybe even behind one of those logs for cover if possible. Standard action to cast Shield on himself.

[Moranica]

Paiku stays hidden, Moro on her side. This dangerous looking charging stuff isn't her type of deal, and she knew it.

I can't contribute much at this point. Let's just hope they don't have many archers. I'll smoke 'm if they pop up.

"Moro, stay her and attack any enemy that gets close."

Moro does so, while Paiku readies to cast fog on any archer popping up.

[DaedalusMkV]

Zhaag's mad rush is far from subtle, though some advantage of surprise gives the explorers the advantage of initiative. As the half-orc warrior hurls himself into the bandit camp the area's inhabitants are already in the process of drawing weapons and arming themselves. Their state of relative readiness does little good for the first bandit to face Zhaag's scythe, however, his dodge too slow and his armor too thin to avoid disembowelment by the brutal polearm. Meanwhile, Caerwyn's crossbow suffers a minor mechanical failure, the bolt skipping from its groove and flying harmlessly into the air thirty feet from its intended target and at a tenth of its proper speed, which might have elicited laughs from the bandits if they weren't focused entirely on the greenskin rampaging through their camp. Caerwyn and Willison hang back and cast defensive spells upon themselves while Paiku prepares to throw up an obscuring bank of fog.

The bandit counterattack is swift as the three bandits nearest the group take up shortswords and maces and charge towards Zhaag while two of the remaining three draw and loose arrows from their shortbows, one at the half-Orc and the other with greater presence of mind aiming for the obvious spellcasters in the rear of the group. In response, Paiku's fog helps to foul their assault, providing excellent concealment against the ranged attacks. Zhaag takes advantage of the confusion to swing his Warscythe with startling accuracy, handily decapitating one of the three bandits advancing on him. Unfortunately, the other two take advantage themselves, flanking the half-Orc and landing a pair of nasty blows with their own weapons, far from enough to bring down the raging Zhaag but enough to injure him quite severely. Arrows wizz harmlessly by, fouled by the fog and one bandit hangs back from the fight, holding his bow at the ready but otherwise not taking any hostile action.

Though Paiku's mist fouls most of the group's sight as well as it does the archers', Zhaag is close enough to the edge of it to see a hard-looking woman advance through the chaos of the camp from the west, quickly taking stock of the situation. Her voice is pleasant-sounding, but her words are cruel. "Fools, I step out of camp for five minutes and this happens. Kill them all, or I'll make you wish you were dead!" She carries a nasty-looking hatchet in either hand with simple familiarity.


Zhaag knocks one enemy into deep negative hit points with his initial attack, then scores a critical hit with his attack of opportunity and deals a terrifying amount of damage to another. Willison casts Mage Armour on himself.

Paiku's fog causes all of the ranged attacks sent at you to miss, but the two bandits flanking Zhaag both hit, causing a total of 11 damage to the Half-Orc. You can surmise that the hard-looking woman is Kressle thanks to Happs' description.

B5 is currently not engaging in the fight, and is hanging back at the rear of the group. You aren't sure what's going on with him. Your turn again.

Map:

http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/B-campT1.png

[Miraqariftsky]

The bandits leap back, spitting curses and scrambling at weapons as Zhaag surges in, slashing low and wide. He rips a shocked bandido's gut open and strews his entrails about the sward. The man's mace thuds into the soft loam as he himself falls upon his face, both hands trying in vain to hold in his insides.

The middle bandido gestures at his fellows to flank the rampaging greenskin, then spits out the chickenbone he'd been gnawing. In the brief moment that Zhaag takes to move his head to one side to avoid having his eye befouled by a bone from a fowl, the bandit's black beard bristles as he rips his own mace free of his harness, countercharges up the log and leaps into the air, whirling aloft his own heavy, flanged mace with both hands upon a weathered haft...

...and then gurgles as his head flies off, Zhaag's pointy walky stick cleaving through gorget and muscle and bone and out again with ease. However, the body still slams heavily against the halforc and, overextended from his stroke and burdened by the still-spewing corpse, Zhaag is unable to defend himself properly as two shortswords lash in from the sides, one giving him a good gash across his left thigh, the other slicing past his layered animal hides and scraping across the right side of his ribcage.

"GRRRRRWAAAAAAUUUUGGGHH!"

Zhaag growls, heaves off the body with his haft, pushes off the pipeleaf-chewing smoke-belching bandit at his right with a curt spearbutt jab and forces back the acne-and-pox-riddled bandit at his left with a sweeping slash. Limping slightly, he skips back and then, keeping the leftward bandit at bay with a couple more thrusts, suddenly pivots and hacks hard at the other bandido.


5ft-step back and up, away from immediate threat.
Hack at bandit currently on the horizontal on the map.

AoO, I leave to the GM's wonderful luck.

HP 4/15 (+2 from Rage). AC 13/17 (-2 shield, -2 Rage)
Raging, no PA for now.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Ancient Hippo]

The magical fog is a mixed blessing for Caerwyn; It shelters him from the bandits arrows, but also prevents him from targeting them with his own bolts. He turns to leave the foggy are to get a shot at the archers, but just then hears a growl a little further in the fog.

Caerwyn sighs. While Zhaag is not the sharpest half-orc around, he is without contest the most effective fighter of their group, and thus it is in everybody's best interest that the raging greenskin does not fall in combat. Reaching for a small parchment in his pouch he stumbles towards where he heard the noises, and upon reaching the half-orc recites a short prayer in a low voice.

"...and let you power coil around him, so he shall not be harmed."

After saying this, he quickly takes a step back, hoping that the fog would obscure his magic, and that Zhaag was too occupied with the bandits to pay attention to his whispered spell.


Moving next to Zhaag to cast Shield of Faith on him, then taking a 5-foot step back. Zhaag will have a +2 Deflection bonus to AC for the next ten rounds.

[Moranica]

Zhaag's growls are part comforting, as it confirms he's alive, as well as heartbreaking to Paiku. Not that she has taken a particular caring for the brute, but she knows her survival is dependant on him.

Quickly she shouts a word to Moro, and both herself and Moro charge into the fog.


Moro charges the bandit nearest to Zhaag and bites/trips him.
Bite [roll0]; [roll1]
Trip on hit [roll2]

Paiku heals Zhaag. [roll3]

[ChaosLord29]

With the arrival of the new bandits and the apparent leader of the camp, Caledor knew the time for action was at hand. "If we can keep the other bandits grouped together," he says to Paiku and Caerwyn, "I have a spell that should debilitate their attempts at coordinated defense. We must try and corral them towards Zhaag." They couldn't allow Zhaag to be overwhelmed and with quick sure strides he moved up next to the raging half-orc, standing at his immediate left flank and striking out at the bandit in front of them both. Drawing upon his reserves of arcane power, the runes upon his blade glow with mystical power as he strikes.


Attack:[roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[DaedalusMkV]

Zhaag's series of manic thrusts and slashes fall wide of their target, the first two missing by over a foot, the third easily deflected by the bandit's shortsword. His distracting butt-strike accomplishes nothing, the hasty blow simply bouncing off the outlaw's dirty leather armour. The Slasher limps back as the two grin in triumph and start to follow, swords held high to deliver the final blow. Their triumph is short-lived, though, as allies elven and canine materialize from the fog, following the sounds of Zhaag's maddened bellowing to find their targets. Moro's leaping charge is foiled by the poor illumination of the fog, his fangs closing on nothing but shadow as he scrabbles to a stop. Caledor's rapier thrust, on the other hand, is far more successful. Catching his opponent unaware with his sudden charge from the thick mist and blade glowing faintly with arcane power, the Elven Magus slips the point of his weapon through the bandit's armpit and into his vitals, leading to a wet cough and the faint red glimmer of blood on his lips. The bandit clutches his wound in shock, dropping his bloodied shortsword with a muffled thump, and collapses on top of the nearby tree stump. The other bandit, able to vaguely make out that he is suddenly badly outmatched, flees away from the dense cloud and out of sight.

Bandits temporarily driven off, two representatives of very different deities advance and each work their Divine gifts upon the wounded Slasher. Paiku's blessing undoes the worst of the damage inflicted by bandit blade and Caerwyn's blessing invokes power long-forgotten by all but a chosen few, Zhaag's greenish skin taking on the faint appearance of scales for a fleeting moment before any sign of the magic worked fades from sight. Wilison crouches nearby, his magic useless without a target to work it on.

Outside the fog you can hear a distinct commotion as the bandits regroup. "Damn this fog. Must be some sort of wizard over there. Jace, Mac, keep those bows at the ready. Ess, try not to **** this up any worse than you already have. I'll flush the bastards out." The woman's voice seems to be moving slightly as she berates and orders around her underlings, but there are no voices of dissent. A few seconds later you hear a deep grunt from the south, followed by a crash and deep thump as a vial lands nearby and bursts into a shower of burning liquid, splashing across most of your group.


Moro's attack misses due to partial concealment, but Caledor's brilliant swordplay knocks out B2 regardless (nice damage roll). The rest of your stuff you already know.

Kressle throws a flask of Alchemist's Fire into your midst, not hitting anyone directly but splashing over Caledor, Moro, Paiku and Zhaag for 1 damage apiece. The southern half of the mist begins to burn away, and will dissipate in [roll0] Rounds.

You cannot see any of the bandits from where you are, so you have no idea as to their location or actions other than what Kressle said. I've added an updated map to the bottom of this post, but realize that you will not know any of the bandits' locations until you step out of the fog. As such you will need to take at least a Move action out of the fog before you can target enemies or really make any use of the map below.

B5 has disappeared completely at this point, once you do make it out of the fog.


Map:

http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/B-campT1-1.png

[Moranica]

Paiku realises the danger of the dissapating fog. She thinks quickly and holding out her hands, she casts a create water over de remaining fire.

Hopefully this smothers the flames a bit, and even if it doesn't, at least it'll generate more fog.

Moro remains calm and ready, on the edge of the fog, waiting to lash out at any bandit in range.

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn silently thanks his luck that he had just stepped back before the flask landed. These people clearly have a thing for burning alchemical compounds. As the mist begins to burn away he decides that it will be better to come out from the mist rather than wait for the fire to reveal him. That way the initiative would be his.

He steps out from the fog, and to his relief, notices that the fog is still between him and most of the bandits, but gives him a clear view at Kressle. He reloads his crossbow and fires at the woman, eager to exploit his tactical advantage, safe from the bandit's arrows but free to fire at their leader.


HP 8/8 AC 16 Saves: F/2 W/2 R/2
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag flashes a tusked grin at the knifeared magus as Caledor's man drops with a meaty thud. He utters a heavy, snorting grunt in thanks as he feels the warmth of magicks flowing into him from helping hands.

The halforc shakes his head violently to extinguish the sudden rain of fire.

His world seems to move both in incredible slowness and blinding speed. Every swirl of fog and smoke seems like an ocean wave. The blood pounds behind his eyes, behind his ears, throbbing in every sinew. The rage that burns in his blood demands that he get out there and rip and tear until nothing is left but grist-dolls, but experience and teachings of the old Sabre-Sisters tell him to stay his wrath.

He hears something strange--- or rather, doesn't. No blast of spellcraft from the Little Master. Was he hurt? No... it's this damned fog...

Holding his polearm in one hand, he dashes over to a clump of logs and the soon-to-be-corpse of Caledor's victim, already gasping his last. There, Zhaag plants his pointy walky stick in the ground, giving the dying bandit a quick punch to the throat to put him out of his misery. Having learned a modicum of the value of stealth after innumerable attempts at escape from the arena before the Little Master came along, he refrains from calling out, but rather merely snaps his fingers towards Willison then beckons with a hiss and a harsh get over here hand gesture, then jerks his thumb at his shoulders.

There, crouching in the shadow of the mystic mist and behind the cover of a couple of logs and a corpse, Zhaag hunkers in cover. When he feels the Little Master's legs clamp around his bull-like neck, he jabs a finger at Caledor, grins and flashes an approving thumbs-up, then hauls out his shield and secures its straps.

Zhaag, his whole body shuddering with anticipation and barely restrained fury, holds up three fingers... then two... then one...


Actions:
Move + Drop Scythe [Move + Free], Shield Up.
Oh, and taking cover and not-quite-talking.

[DaedalusMkV]

Caerwyn steps from the concealing fog to find a target, spotting the hatchet-wielding woman immediately though the other bandits are blocked from his view. Once again he fires his crossbow to no avail, the bandit leader sidestepping his shot as he fires it. Zhaag creeps through the murky gloom, preparing his own counterattack, Willison falling in behind him (though declining the offer of a shoulder seat, as the little mage much prefers to hang back from the enemy) and Caledor crouches nearby, following quietly. You can hear murmering from outside the cloud, bandits growing slightly nervous as nothing seems to happen. Paiku's conjured water douses the alchemical flames for the most part, adding a little bit of time but otherwise having little effect.

Kressle flashes a cruel grin at Caerwyn, pocketing a second alchemical flask and taking up her second axe with a flourish. "There you are, coward. Bad shot. Jax, where are you? Get over here!" She shouts, though you aren't sure who she's addressing, then with a sudden lurch she sprints towards Caerwyn, axe swinging with murderous intent. The blow lands with crushing force, nonfatal but severe.

The remainder of the bandits are out of sight for the moment, buf a second or two later one of their number reappears in the south, clearly having snuck from his post among the others. A young man in a dark green cloak, he seems to have put away his longbow and carries a wicked-looking mace in one hand. "Right behind you, Kressle!" The figure, presumably Jax, shouts, then charges in behind her, swinging the heavy chunk of metal... Directly at the back of her head. Kressle sees the attack coming with a mere instant to spare, dodging just enough to turn it into a crippling blow to the shoulder. She screams, a mix of rage and pain, and drops her left-handed axe to the ground. "Consider this my resignation, bitch!" The remaining trio of bandits, bows at the ready, shout in confusion at this turn of events, though you can't see their reaction.


Well, I guess it's time. We'll get through this fight, and then I'll try to re-recruit a couple more players to replace ChaosLord and Geckus. Let's do this.

7 Damage to Caerwyn from Kressle's savage axe-blow.

B5 has reappeared, and seems to have defected. His attack dealt a lot of damage to Kressle, enough that she seems to be quite badly wounded. You aren't sure about the other Bandits.

No time or ability to put together a map right now. The bandit bow trio hasn't moved, Caerwyn is where he moved to and Kressle is right beside him to the south. Jax, AKA B5, is behind her, flanking with Caerwyn.

Your move.

[Miraqariftsky]

The greenskin brute bursts from cover. Swirls of smoke and mist boil off his churning limbs as he charges out of the gloom.

Zhaag's leads with the shield high, ready to receive. The scimitar trails in his right hand, arm pumped to deliver a devastating blow.

He hears the wavering archers and sees the traitor Jax, whirling his mace back for another blow. He sees the single axe, the limp left arm, the snarl of dismay. He sees the knifear Caerwyn limping with an axe ripping a chunk of gristle from his thigh.

Zhaag angles for an attack that takes him through the press of limbs and weapons. Leaping off that last log, splashing mud high, he lands already pivoting, the shield slamming into Kressle's remaining axe-arm, the scimitar making an overt slash at her left, unguarded side. At the last moment, he reverses the grip and slices low at her legs.

"WAAAAAAGGGGHHH!!"

Zhaag holds high the bloodstained blade, crimson eyes glaring at the bandits and roars. "ARRIGHT, YA GITS, LISSENNUP! SARRENDAHR UND WEZ BE HAVIN DA MERCY, SEE? WEZ GOTS YOU UND BOFF UH YUZ BOSSES! YOUSE RUN, WEZ GITCHA. YOUSE HIDE, WEZ GITCHA. SOZ Y'ALL DROPS ALLA DEM CHOPPAS NOW UND SIT DUH GROK DOWN!"


No buff? Ah, well. Alrighty. Let's do this.

HP 10/15 AC 15/17

Power Attack Pathfinder-style, gaddemmet!
[roll0]
[roll1]

W'elp! Looks like I been takin' tips from Britanov, cross-thread. Intimidate! Intimidate! Intimidate! Rolled a 26 in the OOC, does that cut it, chief?

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn's mouth opens in surprise as Kressle's axe cut's deep into him, but he does not manage to make a sound. Too shocked to feel any pain, he stumbles back just as Zhaag charges in with fearsome power. He hears the sound of combat, but doesn't turn to see better.

After getting away from the immediate vincinity of the combat, he raises his hand to cast another spell, this time not caring if anybody sees it or not. He'll rather be alive, even if it means having to answer uncomfortable questions. The terrifying roaring almost makes him lose his concentration, but he manages to finish the spell, giving his skin a scaly texture for a split second.


5-ft step away from Kressle, then cast Shield of Faith at himself.
Changing Judgement to Protection.
HP is now at 1/8 and AC has increased to 19. (Touch 15)

[Moranica]

Paiku freezes as she witnesses the strange turn of events, unsure what to do, both her and Moro just stand there, ready to hit anything that comes near.



Just a readied action.

[DaedalusMkV]

Caerwyn steps back, weaving protections around himself, but Kressle's attention is already shifted to the defector who metaphorically stabbed her in the back, and raises her axes to strike out at him. "Jax, you bastard, I'll cut off your..." Her threat is swiftly cut short as Zhaag comes barreling out of the fog, a savage swing of his wicked scimitar removing her right arm at the shoulder. "Whuh?" Her last word isn't particularly impressive, a look of confusion lasting bare moments as the combined weight of several greivous wounds bring her down.

Caledor and Wilison burst out from the other side of the fog cloud to see the three other bandits already vanishing into the trees. Caledor curses in Elven and makes to sprint after them, but quickly loses them in the dense underbrush.

Meanwhile, the defector looks down at Kressle's body with some amount of satisfaction. "Cut off what now, Kressle? Arm, maybe? Should've been more careful, eh?" He chuckles to himself. Dressed in heavily worn green-and-brown clothing with a light leather armour chestpiece, Jax is definitively shabby-looking. Face streaked with dirt and stained halfway green, his dark eyes examine you for a moment before he smiles at Caerwyn and Zhaag, then drops his mace to the ground and puts his hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. "Glad to meet you fellows. Been looking for a way to get out of here pretty much since I met these nasty fellows in the first place. 'Name's Jaxon, river boatsman and strongarm for hire."


Forum word processor is hella broken right now, so I can't do any formatting. I'll come back to this later and fix the dialogue.

If you search the corpses you'll find two Longbows, two Shortswords, a Morningstar, a Heavy Mace and three badly damaged sets of Leather Armour on the dead nameless bandits. Kressle has two Masterwork Handaxes, a Potion of Cure Light Wounds, a flask of Alchemist's Fire, Studded Leather armour and four Daggers. Between them you'll find 75 GP, 400 SP and 500 CP (120 GP total coinage).

They've probably got more loot stashed somewhere as well.

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag grunts his gratitude for Jaxon's aid, then just as keels over from myriad grievous injuries, brings his blade down on the bandit leader's neck. The halforc raises the dripping blade and glares at Jaxon some more, then turns his ire upon the other bandits until they, too disarm.

Still keeping the bandits covered, Zhaag twitches the tip of his blade, gesturing at one of the long logs. "Arright, youse lot. Nice an' slow, nuttin' nasty."

Turning back to Jaxon, Zhaag scowls deeply, then extends an arm and cracks a toothy smile. "Sarry be smile onna ye, den, Mistah Jaxon. Thankee fer yer 'elp. Iffen iz be well ta ask, why'z ye whack yer boss? Zhaag be Zhaag an' wez be da wotsits of da Swordlords of... uh... bugger"

Groaning, he calls to his fellow adventurers and says, "Hey, uh, y'all, who be de gooder fer de talky-stuff?"

[Ancient Hippo]

The bandits having ran away or dead, the immediate danger is gone, but so is the adrealin rush that kept Caerwyn up despite his injuries. Suddenly feeling the pain from his wound again, he slowly walks at the middle of the camp and sits down at one of the logs, but not before responding Jaxon in the most pleasing voice possible for someone who has trouble breathing and has lost a non-trivial amount of blood.

"Most pleased to meet you, Jaxon. The name's Caerwyn. As Zhaag here said, we are here exploring this area with a charter from the Swordlords."

Once sitting, he waves at Paiku, trying to draw her attention at him and his wounded state.

[DaedalusMkV]

The grimy ex-bandit scratches his head for a moment, then recognition dawns on him. His voice is deep and relatively friendly as he replies. "Oh, those fellows from Restov, right? Famous swordsmen and all that? Yeah, I've heard of them. I was actually headed up to New Stetven on the Sellen when our boat sunk." He grins. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to point the way, eh? Don't get me wrong, I'm mighty appreciative for getting me out of that bind, but wouldya mind pointing me in the direction of civilization? I'll answer any questions I can about these nasty fellows in exchange." To punctuate the statement, he gives Kressle's corpse a swift kick. "Oh, and you're explorers too, right? Yeah, I spent a week or two wandering around here, coming from the southwest. Might be able to give you some ideas, eh?"

[Miraqariftsky]

"Uhhhhh..." Zhaag mutters for quite a long time as he pauses to process Jaxon's words. "Und yez, daz dem shiny nobs no par-tick-lee nufink 'bout dis 'ere place, iz wot sends daz eskporlers, iz why daz eskporlers be 'ere eskporlin', see?"

Jabbing his blade at the rest of the bandits who, for their own good, have hopefully already disarmed and seated themselves peacefully at the central log, Zhaag then asks, "Iz dem duh alla dem bandit gits? Iffen deyz gots morra boyz, where be dey soz dey be stomped? Wotta know youse 'bout summat bugger cold da Stag Lord? Izze nutha bandit git wot be mebbe a bigga bossa dem bad dung gits outta 'ere wildsa-place?"

[DaedalusMkV]

Jax blinks, taking a few seconds to puzzle out the more difficult of Zhaag's mangled words, then replies. "I can speak Orcish, if that helps? Had a Half-orc mate a while back, he tought me a fair bit of the language. Er, there are at least a few more around here. Happs went out with a couple of others to head to some trading post up north, supposed to be back some time today. In fact, I think he's a bit late. And, there's the three that got away after we took down Kressle, they'll probably be back. Plus, Mick and Jana were out on patrol this afternoon, somewhere around here." He pauses for a moment, closes his eyes, then continues. "The Stag Lord is supposed to be the leader of all the bandits around here. From what I heard he's a mean bastard, usually angry-drunk but absolutely deadly in a fight. 'Least, that's what the rumours say. I think his camp's supposed to be a couple of days to the south of here, but I've never been there myself." At this point, he grins. "Oh, yeah, almost forgot. They kept all of their loot over here."

Jax leads you over underneath the tree-platform where the bandits had stationed him as an archer earlier, then pulls up a remarkably well-concealed tarp covered with dirt. Inside is a veritable treasure-trove of stolen goods. "Unfortunately, some of the loot got stolen... Er, restolen, I guess, by a bunch of nasty little creatures called Mites a couple of days back. Apparently they live underneath a rotten old tree a ways southwest of here along the river, but nobody wanted to go after them."


Inside the treasure-pit are the following:
321 SP
90 GP
A Pair of Silver Earrings which Willison values at about 150 GP
A wooden music box worth about 90 GP
Three crates of firs and hides (50 GP each, weighing 20 pounds)
A wooden case of potent green liquor with eight bottles

[Ancient Hippo]

Although Caerwyn's wound has mostly stopped bleeding, it still hurts a lot, affecting his general judgement... and apparently sense of humor.

"You had a half-orc mate? Are you trying to say that you mated with a half-orc? Ha ha..."

Realizing what he had just said, he feels a sudden burst of shame flow over him, something that happens very rarely to him.

"I'm sorry... I don't know what went in me. That was an awful joke."

[Moranica]

Paiku grimashes at the ..... joke Caerwyn tells. Anything to break the tension really.

I'm all out of spells, but sleeping next to our new ..... friends.... seems dangerous.

She decides on the only possible choice of action. She walks over to Zaagh and takes position close to him.

[Ancient Hippo]

Noticing that Paiku does not seem like she would be casting spells anytime soon, Caerwyn retrieves one of the potions that Oleg gave them, and downs it with enthusiasm. The liquidifed spell makes him feel considerably better, but the wound does not close completely, and it is still a little sore.

I don't remember anyone taking the potions, so I suppose they are with the horses. (Or donkey. Do we have a donkey? I'm not sure.)

Ugh, messed up the roll.

[Miraqariftsky]

"Yu iz right" Zhaag quips. "Yu got green an' yu ain't made yerself no king o' comedy, dats wot. Yu want uh joke? 'Ere be real dung joke--- Zhaag no know much Orcish, nor Common neidder. Master Will-ee-sun sez Zhaag be speak Pigeon, but Zhaag no go CHEEP-CHEEP"

He turns back to Jax with a nod. "Tenks fer alla dat. Wez be tinks on dat stuff. Tinks real dung 'ard."

Zhaag then spits at the vague direction of where the other bandits had fled.

[DaedalusMkV]

Worn out and injured following the battle with Kressle and her bandit minions, the explorers spend the rest of the day clearing out the camp, dealing with the dead, cleaning out their leftover valuablles and deliberating with Jax about his own travels through the region, maring a few notes onto their map. The night passes uneventfully, the local wildlife long ago trained to avoid the well-fortified bandit camp, and the group awakens to a rather dark, rainy morning.

Zhaag:

Zhaag, upon waking, finds that his shield has somehow turned pink overnight. The vibrant, if rather un-Orcish, colour slowly fades away in the rain.

After a bit of deliberation, you begin to head out towards the northwest, planning to skirt around exploring a new stretch of territory before making your way back to the Levetons' trading post. The journey passes largely uneventfully, densely packed forest once more giving way to sparser thickets broken up by frequent meadows. After a full day of travel the rain begins to lessen and finally stop, the clouds breaking up just in time for dusk. Another uneventful night passes, and the group sets out again.

Caerwyn:

All through the night, you have minor difficulties with insects crawling through your bedroll, causing minor irritation and some small loss of sleep. Upon finally waking up, you discover what looks like a stick carved into a crude crossbow bolt stuck into the ground about three inches from your ear.

The Bolt detects as magic, and you manage to identify it as a +1 Merciful Bolt.


After another three hours trecking through the forest, you find yourselves at the edge of a large clearing. In the clearing, what looks to be a large brown bear paws at an unmoving humanoid.


Distance is about 100 feet. The clearing seems to be covered in small hills and ditches which won't affect movement, but can be used to provide Cover for any Prone characters. The bear probably noticed you, but doesn't seem to be agressive at the moment.


Gideon and Kalazin:

Out of sheer, random, arbitrary chance, you'll arrive about 200 feet to the northeast of the group in 2 Rounds, having finally cought up. Feel free to RP your approach or not, as you wish.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin was cold and wet.These two things, alongside manual labor where the three things he disliked most, and he had had all three things in abundance in the last three days. Days of endless walking and riding in this cold cold climate.

But the stars have been beautiful every night. There was a poem waiting to be born there.And his companion had proven a man of the Talents, and with the intelligence to match it. Not to mention a callous competence with his sword. Kalezin has tried to engage him several times in conversation

Has he succeeded Athaleon?

Once again, Kalezin checks to see that his head scarf, today a mute purple, is where it should be, and that his silver pin keeps his green cloak exactly as it should. He flashes his smile to Gideon, revealing his perfect teeth.

"We have been traveling two days now, Insan Gideon." His Kellish accent is barely noticeable as he speaks. "Do you think we are getting any closer?"

Just as he speaks, he thinks he hears a bear in the distance. He thinks he saw something in the distance.

[Athaleon]

Gideon

The weather had hovered between dour and miserable for days, ever since Gideon had fled from Restov. It was a hell of a trudge, but much preferable to staying in the city. And his traveling company was not at all what he expected. Gideon had dimly imagined a rough band of grizzled mercenaries, with perhaps a few veteran professional soldiers to keep them in line.

Instead, he had left Oleg's Trading Post with a solitary mage named Kalezin. The diminutive foreigner's arcane skill surpassed Gideon's, but had little aptitude in hand-to-hand combat.

Notwithstanding his companion's foppishness, Gideon found himself warming to the man. His keen intellect and well-traveled worldliness ensured their conversations were always interesting. Of course, their conversations often turned to debates over arcane minutiae; technical details that would sound either meaningless or absurd to the uninitiated. But it helped pass the time, and keep their minds off the cold and wet.

Their current exchange was of a more banal sort. "I should hope we're getting closer. If we don't find sign of them soon, someone messed up—" He cut himself off mid-sentence as his companion obviously saw something off in the distance. "What is it?"


Prepared Spells:

Cantrips: Arcane Mark, Detect Magic, Read Magic

Level 1: Grease x1, Color Spray x1, Shield x1

[Moranica]

The weather is dreadful to say the least. Deafeating the bandits and their moment of glory .... no this could hardly be called that. Then she looks at her companions and realises that some good did come of it at least.

When she spots the bear, Paiku uses hand signals to stop Moro and points ahead, at the bear, hoping her partners would notice as well.

[Miraqariftsky]

Perturbment, shield's discolouring
To the little master's was the knowing
The pointy walking stick
Saw them through muddy thick
And sea of grasses tall

Zhaag nods at Paiku's silent call
And replies with his own gesture
Towards the form unmoving
Beneath the bear's claws a-gleaming
Sure-nigh of grievous injury or dire danger

He moves forward and braces his spear
Zhaag breathes deep, then yells, projecting fear
"WWAAAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!!"
Hoping to drive the beast away
But making ready if it come to play


Brace Polearm...

...and Intimidate.
[roll0]
Unholy buggerups, Batman!
Erm. Looks like he's afraid of bears?
Yeesh! Where's a druid when ye need one, eh?

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

The sight of the bear a hundred yards away, looming over something, holds the attention of Kalezin, who has never seen a bear before. As he directs Gideon's attention to the curious sight, a dreadful roar breaks the normal sounds of the land and makes Kalezin start

"By the Spire, Insan Gideon! Let's make haste! Either we found our erstwhile companions or something is being eaten alive! Or both!"

With that, Kalezin starts to walk at a brisk pace towards the commotion, his various article of clothing flopping.

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn has been mostly silent, trying to guess the meaning of the odd happenings. Normally, he would intrepet a bolt stuck in the ground near his head as a threat, but... The bolt had been magically enchanted not to cause any lethal injuries. Anyway, making such an bolt is not cheap, so Caerwyn had kept it.

Zhaag's sudden scream pulls him from his musings, and he lets out an heavy sigh as he notices what is going on. While he personally does not want to get involved, it seems that his companions have taken up a doctrine of denying bears their hard-earned meals.

He shakes his head, and starts instructing Zhaag in proper bear-intimidating scream technique.

"Zhaag, sheer volume does not work if you sound like a little girl who found a spider in her shoe. Or a bear in this case. You have to put feeling into it. Watch and learn."

He breathes deep and then...

"AAAAAAURGH!"


Sorry Zhaag, but scaring people is pretty much Caerwyn's job description :smalltongue:. Though he usually does it a little subtlier.

Intimidate:[roll0]

[Moranica]

Paiku frowns deeply. Obviously, something is going very wrong with her comrades. There mouth movements make hardly any sense to her, and suddenly Moro seems frightened out his wits.

We need to work on some new handsignals for this, cause these guys aren't making any sense. It's obvious there are long A tones in it, but that's about all I can make of it. Could they possibly be using speak with animals? I didn't know they could do that?

She turns her head to the bear again, to see if it makes any sense of this.

[Athaleon]

Gideon draws his scimitar with practiced ease and hastens towards the bear, careful not to leave his companion too far behind.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin follows suit.

[DaedalusMkV]

If nothing else, Zhaag and Caerwyn's uproarous shouts manage to draw the bear's attention away from the prostrate humanoid it's been investigating. The large animal takes in the group, lifting its head and sniffing for a moment, then seems to decide that it isn't worth the trouble to confront such a loud, large and numerous group of animals, turns around and begins trotting away at a leasurely pace. Jax grins and says, "Eh, looks like he wasn't too keen on a fight. You folks wanna check out the poor fellow over there, or just keep movin'?"


Congratulations, you managed to convince the bear you weren't prey. Which, really, is just a matter of standing tall and shouting at them.


A moment later, two more shapes break through the treeline, one dark-skinned and the other light. It seems that the second wave of explorers has finally caught up.


Gideon and Kalezin have arrived at the clearing. Feel free to introduce yourselves as you like.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin


Exertion was never Kalezin strong point, but adrenaline and curiosity keep him going at a canter. As he and Gideon approach the bear the company that made the strange noises gets more clear. Kalezin sees the bear leaving and a few seconds later he arrives at the scene. The people he sees match the description he has, but he is somewhat at loss on how someone introduces himself at these situations. After a second 's silence, he smiles and gives a respectful half bow.

"Morning of the Light to you, efentiis. I am Kalezin of Katapesh, and I believe I was sent to find you. This tall man ere is Gideon, a gentleman and a fine companion."

You detect a small accent as the short man speaks and you notice that he is especially well dressed, even if bundled up within layers of clothing.

" I have many question about why you were shouting at a bear, but I thing you were about to check the conditions of this man. I wouldn't want to interrupt you. But it would be my honor to formally greet you afterwards."

[Athaleon]

Sheathing his blade, Gideon simply nods and greets the other group. "As he said, I'm Gideon, a gentleman and fine companion." Barely pausing to talk, he hurries over to whomever the bear had been pawing at. "Is this one of your party?"

[Miraqariftsky]

Question for the chief: Sorry, I forget... After the wolf attack, were we able to track down the horses that scarpered or were they assumed to have been lost and eaten?


A bear's-head pauldron flaps as Zhaag points to the figures in the distance. "Sarry sez da 'elp da whosits wherwhen be da 'elpin'. Dat, an' der be udder gits ova yonda. Sez 'ello wez mebbe... or mebbe dey be choppa, eh?" He says to Jax while hefting his pointy walking stick and begins jogging towards them, still on guard in case the bear comes back or they turn out to be hostile.

The leather-clad halforc grates out, "Paiku, Jax, liddle master, gedd on, see wot can be 'elped with dat bugger da bear wuz about ta chomp. Y'all knifears, backa Zhaag up, lessee wot dese gits be about, eh?"

With that, he charges across the clearing, warscythe parting the undergrowth. Seeing that neither of the other two are hostile, Zhaag plants his spear in the ground as a sign of peace and returns Kalezin's bow. The slow halforc stops for a long moment to process and ponder the man's words, then cracks a smile and flashes his fingers in the Sign of the Dawnflower. "Kaal-eh-zen und Gid-jun. Zhaag be Zhaag. Deze be Cur-win und Kill-door. Dat be Paiku, Will-ee-sun und Jax. Dis bugger 'ere be deadering bugger. Wez be 'ere ta 'elp, by grace o' Sarry-da-Smile-in-Sky. Y'all be wantin' da moar da talkies, y'all be wantin' ta be talkin' ta dem udders. Dey not be stupid und be talking fancy plenty fine."

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

As Zhaag starts addressing Kalezin, the young Katapeshian 's thin brows shoot up and up, until the look of bewilderment and amazement in Kalezin 's face is almost comical. While peddling wares in the Grand Bazaar had forced Kalezin to deal with many different accents, Zhaag 's speech was something unique.

"By the Spire, that was fascinating, efentii Zhaag! Well met, well met indeed! I will enjoy talking with you again, if you agree. Because as the poem says 'Intricate knots bind truth to clarity, as the cocoon binds the butterfly to the worm'. But I would check the downed man myself, before meeting efentiis Paiku, Jax and Caerwyn "

With that, he also examines the body, careful not to seem to touch anything, so as not to presume to inspect the spoils of other men.

Perception [roll0]

[Moranica]

At first Paiku tries to hide behind Zaagh as the strangers approach, but as friendly introductions are made, she greets them with a curd nod. She continues patting Moro and watches what happens next.

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn greets the newcomers, but can not completely hide his suspcions. The short one had said that he was sent to find them... But why? Probably better not to ask, a spy would lie anyway. Also, what the hell is an efentii? The way the man uses it it would seem to be a honorific, but he could just be stealthily insulting them...

He puts his suspicions aside for the moment as he observes Kalezin examining the body. "Is he still alive? Paiku can probably patch him up if needed."

[DaedalusMkV]

"It's Caledor, Zhaag. It's not that hard, so you could at least get it right." The Elven magus seems to be agitated about something, and his response is biting. "Pleased to meet you, I'm sure. Now, let's see what's happened here."

Introductions and meetings out of the way, the now-expanded group heads quickly over to check the fallen figure. It appears to be a young human man, perhaps twenty years old. His leg has been caught in a nasty-looking jagged-toothed bear trap, crushing his calf-bone and mangling the muscle. Blood is pooled around the brutal wound and his neck is twisted at an unlikely angle, and the man is quite clearly dead. Jax seems to recognize him, and speaks up. "Oh. That's Dane, one of the men we drove off at the camp. I guess he didn't get away clean after all. You know, I think you're supposed to mark off traps like this. I wonder who set this one?"

Willison chimes in. "We should probably be careful, then. If there are more hidden traps around here... Well, I wouldn't want to end up like this man."


The corpse has 11 GP, a shortsword, a shortbow and a set of leather armour if you care to loot it. Otherwise, the area seems to be fairly clear. How would you like to proceed?

[Athaleon]

Gideon sighed as he stood back up from inspecting the body. "Well, we're the relief. All two of us," he gestured between himself and Kalezin. "We'll need to be filled in on what's going on, but we can listen while we walk. Lead on."


I had thought to just take over from him. I'll switch to dark red to avoid confusion.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin tights his clothes tighter and half bows at the rest of the group, with an intricate hand wave.

"Insan Gideon is in the right. We are here to assist in your civilizing endeavors. I will also be happy to listen as you lead us towards the next destination. Efentii Zhaag, please provide comments as you deem appropriate.!"

[Miraqariftsky]

"Bugger's dead, KAAL-EH-DOOR" Zhaag says slowly, trying hard to get it right.

Zhaag scratches his head and asks, "Jax, iz no gets. Dis Dale, 'im not set off dat trap wot killed 'im?"

As to Kalezin's elaborate speech, Zhaag's initial response is simply a pair of bemused eyebrows and a sagging, open mouth as he puzzles it out. "Iz dead. Wot else be there? Youse be wantin' ta be talkin' moar da askin'... uh... liddle mastuh, Caerwyn, Paiku, dese buggers be 'avin' questchuns-like"

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn eyes the newcomers, his mind still trying to solve the mystery of the efentii. Where are dictionaries when you need one?

"Well, we were planning to continue towards northwest from here, mapping the area as we go, then returning to the trading post to resupply." He takes a quick look at everyone, as if assessing their travel capability. "I suggest we start moving. The Greenbelt is by no means a small area."

[ProudGrognard]

"We are by your side then, efentii Caerwyn. Or perhaps I should say, insan Caerwyn, now that we are travelling together.

I have a question I would like to ask. I think it would be prudent to know what each of us can do for each other. Because, as the poet said 'Clarity clings to truth like the moring dew on the rose'. I, Kalezin of Katapesh, am an Initiate of the Veil, a friend of spirits and a wielder of the Arts, at your service"

and here Kalezin does again his elaborate bow.

"Insan Gideon is skilled with his blade and with the Arts also, as he was kind enough to say. It is obvious that insan Zhaag has a very strong sword arm. May I then ask where your specialties lie?"

[Ancient Hippo]

His specialties? Caerwyn tenses noticeably as he hears the question. What can he say? Destroying his enemies with the unholy power of an ancient snake-god? Excellent skills at manipulation and intimidation? Quite adept at lying? Actually, there might be something to say about the last few things...

"You could say that I'm a kind of diplomat," he says, and smiles.

[Athaleon]

"A diplomat? I wonder how receptive the local banditry was to your overtures." Gideon smiled as they walked. "Never mind." To the group in general he continues, "Anyway, do we have a specific goal in mind for today's march?"

[DaedalusMkV]

The now enlarged group sets off together, heading northwest once again towards the edge of the Greenbelt. The forest gives way mostly to hilly plains near the end of the day, with the occasional copse of trees breaking up the monotony of the scenery. After setting camp, you determine that you're likely very close to the edge of the area you were chartered to explore, a mere mile or so from that border, and the night passes otherwise uneventfully. Following a good night's sleep, you reach the border of the Greenbelt and turn east, heading for the Levetons' trading post.

Paiku:

There was no mischief this time. You're starting to suspect that you might have picked up some sort of minor Fey tricksters while in the forest, who were the source of the strange happenings the last few days. If so, they can usually be appeased (and sometimes befriended) by leaving small gifts at the edge of your camp for them.


The second day passes quickly, and eager to return to the Post and get rid of all the valuables weighing you down you press the pace, not enough to arrive today but you expect that you'll be able to make it back by mid-afternoon the next day. As the sun begins to dip in the sky, you hear a commotion coming from one of the many copses of trees you've seen, just to the south. It sounds like someone's shouting... "Help! Oh gods, anyone, help!"


The shouting is coming from about 200 feet away, inside a small but dense stand of trees. You can't make out much about it, other than that whoever it is seems to be terrified.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin was in his element, meeting his new companions. Among several grumbling references to the cold, Kalezin walked with his hands behind his back, flashing his easy half smile, making polite conversation with anyone who shared his cheerfulness, but also respecting anyone who wanted to be left alone. He also took notes of the flora and fauna, taking care not to be left behind. All in all, the epitome of the courteous and friendly companion.

At night, he stayed up late watching the stars and reciting poems in strange languages. The morning found him deep in prayer in the mat he had taken care to lay by the fire. Those who would care to notice, would see that his headband was different, a vibrant purple laced with scarlet and gold.

@Paiku
If you would have cared to discuss the spoilered issue, whatever it was, Kalezin has many Knowledge skills, and he would have given you his informed opinion and happily so.

The incident with the noise finds Kalezin in another attempt to befriend Caerwyn, whose mention of diplomacy aroused Kalezin 's mercantile heart.

"... so you see, insan Caerwyn, I find it best to approach a tense situation with a friendly gesture. To my knowledge, very few people have the stomach to be cruel if the said stomach is full. For example, when..."

Suddenly, Kalezin straightens his head like a hound.

"What was that? By my name, someone is asking for help!"

Kalezin nervously looks at the more brawny companions, ready to follow them to the source of the sound. Follow in the very literal sense.

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag still sleeps with his back against a tree after having secured their camp's perimeter with a ditch and stakes, or at the very least having set deadfall tripwires crunch-heaps.

Of the apparently friendly and intrepid Kalezin, Zhaag would have been incredibly bemused and stupefied but inevitably curious as well. Daybreaks might well have seen them both at prayer, the orcblood mumbling half-remembered hymns to the Dawnflower while whetting and cleaning his scimitar and spear.

All the while, the orcblood has been sharing Willison's rather uncharacteristic worry of late, whatever it might be...

"DAAHRRGH!" Zhaag yells at the cries of distress, drops the heaviest of his packs and charges off through the undergrowth. "Ere we go, ere we go! Arright, youse, der be troubled pains over dah yondah, we be WAAAAAGGGHHH!"

[Athaleon]

Gideon winced at Zhaag's bellowing. If there were enemies ahead, they'd surely be readying themselves for a fight, now. Sweeping his scimitar from its sheath, he hustles toward the source of the plea. "Well, we're committed now — Let's move!"

[Moranica]

[sign language] "You know, I think all this misschief may hav... ......"

Paiku is rudily interupted by Moro's frightened reaction. She follows his stare and sees Zhaag acting excited. She raises her eyebrows and looks at the reaction of the others. Many seem to be looking in the same direction. As Paiku looks as well though, she doesn't spot anything of interest, so she waits.

[Ancient Hippo]

Like Zhaag and Kalezin, Caerwyn had spent the morning praying, though he had done it silently, as to avoid any possible complications. Like for example, odd looks, awkward silence, and summary execution.

Having been absorbed into his thoughts, he listens half-attentively at Kalezin's tales, muttering something affirmatively from time to time, until he too hears the scream coming from ahead. After complaining silently in his mind about constantly being involved in other people's troubles, he rushes behind Zhaag and Gideon towards the source of the sound.

[DaedalusMkV]

Momentarily abandoning you westward journey to the Levetons' Trading Post, you sprint off into the thick copse of trees, seeking after the source of the shouting you heard earlier. As you break through the treeline the cries for help cease abruptly, and a few minutes later your group manages to make your way to the centre of the circle of trees, where you see a humanoid figure lying prone, half covered by leaves and deadfall, a thick fallen tree trunk crushing its leg.

Your approach, however, is swiftly cut short as a pair of large, black canine shapes burst from the undergrowth behind you without warning, darting for the rearmost members of the group with startling speed. The first of the wolf-like creatures leaps at Caerwyn, seeking vulnerable flesh, but only manages to catch a mouthful of leather-armoured arm, which it quickly lets go of with what sounds suspiciously like a grunt of disgust. The other, targetting Paiku, is much more successful, tearing at her leg and dragging her to the ground before anyone can react.

Now that they are in amongst you, you have a chance to get a good look at the pair of dark-coloured canines. Standing fully three feet tall and the better part of five feet long, these creatures must outmass a common wolf by at least 100 pounds, and their black fur and glittering dark-red eyes lend them an almost demonic cast.


Alright, let's get the party started. I'm still in exam season, but at least the three separate projects that were due yesterday are all well and finished.

Paiku takes 6 damage from the creature's bite and is tripped, and her Knowledge (Nature) check allows her to identify them as Worgs, evil intelligent wolves. While larger, tougher and smarter than common wolves and capable of speaking normally, they don't have any remarkable strengths or weaknesses. Kalezin also makes the check, and has the same knowledge.

Kalezin, Gideon and Caerwyn won Initiative, and may act now. Following that will be the Worgs again, then everybody else. Jax will be fighting with you, but Wilison doesn't really have anything to contribute given the close and chaotic nature of the fight. Caledor did not accompany you into the copse of trees.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin followed the party where the screams started, staying safely in the middle of the group. It is not that he was cowardly, it is just that he was ...careful. Yes, that 's it. Careful. His blood was very very precious to him. After the abrupt scream ended, Kalezin looked for its source. The startling attack made him gasp, and instinctively he girded himself for battle.

In a strange language, not quite Kellish, not quite magic, he started bringing forth the Spirits of Protection.

"Coum farth, pratictors fo em, rigd em, therag em..."

A small wind blew when none was before, his eyes momentarily shifted to gold and after a very short while (but to Kalezin, looking beyond the Veil, time was meaningless), the spirits he only could see were around him, protecting him, guarding him.

Casting mage armor! I should have casted it before darting in, I am sorry

[Ancient Hippo]

The sight of the "wolves" causes Caerwyn to start letting out a resigned sigh, which is cut short by one of the beasts jumping onto his arm. After managing to shake off the large animal, he curses his luck mentally. Wolves, as far as he knew, did not make a habit of attacking travelers, and this was the second such incident in a few days.

He quickly prepares his crossbow and aims it towards the beast that just tried to bite him while taking a step back. Despite it being totally illogical, he can't help but taunt the wolf as he fires.

"Didn't like the leather, huh? Well, maybe you'll like this better."


AC: 17 (touch 13, ff 14) Saves: F+2 R+3 W+4 HP: 8/8
Taking a 5-ft step away from the wolf, then firing. Two slightly large wolves are not enough for Caerwyn to blow his Judgement into them. (Two Worgs might be... but he does not know what they are.) :smallbiggrin:

Attack:[roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Athaleon]

Adrenaline rushes through Gideon's limbs, as well as a more esoteric power that infuses his blade and causes it to shimmer faintly with deadly intent.

Wolves could smell fear, it was said, so Gideon forced down his revulsion at the evil-looking creatures and charged the nearest one, hoping the sudden counter-attack would catch the ambushers off guard. He knew he could rely on at least one of his companions to do the same.


Swift action to use an Arcane Pool point to give his weapon a +1 enhancement, full-round action to charge and attack (holding his scimitar in both hands)

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

In case of a critical threat:
Confirmation: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

[DaedalusMkV]

Kalezin works his protective magic, while Gideon's magically-enhanced charging slash just barely catches the Worg, inflicting a nasty wound. Caerwyn's bolt is likewise just barely on-target, slashing painfully but far from fatally across the massive canine's flank, and the creature replies in deep-throated, growling Common. "You will need much more than little twigs to kill me, manling..."

The Worg's continue to attack ferociously, the first leaping once again at Caerwyn with flashing jaws, tearing at his flesh but not managing to get a good enough grasp to haul him down. The second abandons its attack on Paiku to attack the much more threatening Gideon, counterattacking viciously in retaliation for Gideon's own powerful strike.


Both Gideon and Kalezin's attacks land, dealing Damage as normal.

The Worgs roll pretty well, inflicting 8 damage on Caerwyn and 9 on Gideon. They both fail in their attempts to Trip you.

Your move again.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin had never seen a fight up close and personal. The tearing of the flesh in all its ghastly details made him pale a bit. But he was superbly trained and not skittish about proving it. Now that he was more protected, it was time to show these puppies what a Walker of the Veil could do. Once again, he invokes and summons the spirits of the cosmos. He calls forth the spirits of oblivion and paralysis, to bind the worg that happened to be closer to him. Once again, the same, Kalezin intones in the strange language and noises from a restless wind appear where nothing was before.

"Stipris vonlivon fo, dinba es maleres, mberlas es maleres..."

The spirits he only could see were here.The Worg 's eyelids start to feel heavy, its soul called to the arms of sleep 's oblivion...

Casting the Slumber hex (DC15)

[Miraqariftsky]

Arriving at the grisly scene, Zhaag lowered his warscythe's wicked point and charged full tilt at the beasts. Leaping off a rotten log and a boulder, he launches himself at them...

...only to miss wide, sinking his blade into wood and slamming painfully against a tree on the opposite side of the clearing. Over the rush of blood in his ears and the clangour of his companions, he could barely hear the great wolves' snickering.

Shaking his head to clear it, Zhaag stumbles to his feet and tries tugging the spear free but it holds fast. Snarling in frustration, he shucks on his shield and rips his scimitar free, angling up an attack through the tall grasses, seeking the foebeasts' rear.

Dim morning light filtered through a forest canopy flashes off that well-honed weapon. Another curved blade joins the mad melee as Zhaag leaps into the fray.


W'elp. The former part of tonight's narrative's my take on why he ain't using the polearm presently, that is to say, I missed a post, sorry.

HP 15/15 AC 15/17

WF: Scimitar, Raging, Charging, Power Attacking, Flanking with Gideon.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Moranica]

Getting hurt again, Paiku is once again confronted with the fact that she is horrible at defending herself. With a curt nod, she sends Moro at the worgs, while slowly getting up herself.

Moro leaps at one of the beasts, hoping to beat them at their own game.

Moro
Bite [roll0]; [roll1]
Trip on hit [roll2]

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn's vision falters for a moment as the monsters fangs sink deeply in his flesh. For just a moment, he dances on the edge of conciousness.

As he appoarches dangerously the point of succumbing to his wounds, he starts feeling scared. Time seems to slow around him as cold sweat starts accumulating on his skin. He knew that the Coils had a habit of raising those who had proven themselves valuable... Something he had not yet managed to accomplish. A faint plea aroses from his throat...

"Don't let it end like this..."

Upon finishes uttering these words, another, stronger feeling overcomes his fear. Anger. Partly rising from his own mind, partly from the power of an ancient snake-god, this anger pushes aside the pain from his wounds and clears his thoughts. He has goals. He has ambitions. And his wrath will be unleashed onto those who try to take them away from him.

He takes a step back while a mysterious force slowly knits his wound together, postponing his attack until he will no longer risk worsening his condition by acting swiftly.


Argh, seems like the drama bug bit me. :smalltongue: Taking a five-foot step back and activating the healing Judgement. Right now Caerwyn is at 0 hp, but the Judgement gives him fast healing 1.

Also, apparently the healing judgement causes you to be surrounded by some kind of light. I'm looking forward to see how he is going to explain that. :smallbiggrin:

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin's quick mind, meanwhile, tries to remember anything he knows of these talking wolves. If this behavior is typical and so on

Forgot to ask that. Knowledge nature and arcana
[roll0]
[roll1]
You would think that his quick mind would have focused on his specialty, but no...

[Athaleon]

Gideon staggers back, savaged by the wolf's attack. It hurt like a bastard, but the continued surge of adrenaline kept him on his feet. No ordinary wolves, then. Good thing Gideon was no ordinary fighter.

Fending off the nearest wolf with a quick jab of his scimitar — more of a deterrent than a serious attempt to land a blow — Gideon fires a blast of arcane energy at the pair of wolves with his other hand, careful not to catch any companions in the spray.


Flanking bonus +2, cancelled out by -2 penalty from Spell Combat.
Taking a -5 penalty to the attack roll to add +5 to the concentration check to cast defensively.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Concentration (DC 17): [roll2]

Color Spray (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/c/color-spray), Will DC 16

Edit: Disregard everything, then. Damn the forum dice.

[DaedalusMkV]

Zhaag and Moro savage the Worg who initially targeted Paiku, sword and fang working in concert to cripple the dark-furred canine, which is clearly no longer in any condition to fight, although Gideon's attempt to finish it off falls short of the mark and the frustration from a missed blow stymies his spellslinging. Caerwyn steps away from the fight, a pale, faintly glowing green mist coalescing around him as his wounds slowly begin to close themselves. The Worg chuckles quietly to itself and begins to advance once again on the badly-injured Half-elf, but is stopped dead in its tracks by Kalezin's sorcery, the spirit magic wrapping itself around the canine's mind and sending it into a fitful sleep. Jax, moving quietly amidst the combat, takes advantage of the Worg's inability to fight back and strikes at its skull with his heavy mace, a brutal coup de grace that renders the creature's head into little more than a pulped mess.

The remaining Worg, alone, outnumbered and badly injured, curses at you. "Damn you, two-legs! I will crack the marrow from your bones!" It fails to put the threat to action, however, as it darts back into the wilderness in a final attempt to skulk away before you can finish it off.


The Worg attacking Caerwyn failed its Will Save versus Kalezin's Hex and fell asleep, followed by Jax using a Coup De Grace to finish it off. The other Worg is dropped to 0 HP by the combined assault of the remaining characters and attempts to flee, doing its best to blend into the terrain.

If any of you wish to pursue it, you will need to pass a DC15 Perception check to find it before it escapes.

Otherwise, you've won the fight. What that means is that you now officially have enough XP to reach level 2! Go ahead and level up your characters in the OOC now. You'll also be reaching the Trading Post tomorrow, and there will be no more combat between now and then, so if you want to start totalling up your earnings and deciding what you'd like to spend money on, it wouldn't be a bad time for it.

[Athaleon]

Gideon's blood was up now, and— More out of spite than because he thought he'd hit— he dropped his scimitar at his feet, swept his longbow from its position on his back, nocked an arrow and snap-fired it at the fleeing worg.


Perception: [roll0]

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]


Having missed again, he sighs and retrieves his scimitar as the excitement ebbs and the pain of the worg's bite returns.

[Miraqariftsky]

"MMMEEEAAAAATT!" Zhaag bellows as he lashes out reflexively at the turning beast, bloodied blade whistling in for its neck.

If still it manages to flee, the savage Slasher pursues--- what normal beast would speak in tongues of men or attack such large groups of folk---, leaping in, nicking and hacking but when the beast inevitably manages to outstrip him in speed, he sticks his scimitar in a nearby tree and hurls a javelin at it.


What? No AoO for fleeing? [roll0] Still flanking, dropping PA.
[roll1]

Pursuit.
Perception check, as ordered [roll2]

Javelin [roll3]
[roll4]

Hoooooooooly assmonkeys, Batman! Twenties! Sixes! Anything ELSE he manages to perceive?

Any comedy to be had from him dashing off against something everyone else missed (ambuscade?) splatting into a tree, letting him chuck a spear harmlessly into the canopy only for it to actually hit someone?

[DaedalusMkV]

Gideon's arrow misses the fleeing Worg as the creature flees into the dense underbrush, but Zhaag's hurled javelin strikes true as you hear a muffled thump from the bush. A cursory inspection reveals the creature's corpse, the javelin piercing both lungs having killed it almost instantly.

Meanwhile, Jax heads over to examine the fallen humanoid, then lets out a heartfelt curse. "Oh hells! This isn't even a real person, it's just some ragged clothing stuffed with grass. Wait... Urgh, never mind. Used to be a real person... That's just wrong" He sounds vaguely queasy at this point.


Nexus, the Worg did not provoke an AOO because it used the Withdraw action, which allows you to move away from a threatened square without provoking. As it was Staggered it could only move up to it's Speed, which is why you were able to catch it relatively easily. Had it been able to Run away, you never would have had a hope of catching it.

The second Worg is dead. The humanoid figure is a weeks-old corpse, mostly picked over by the Worgs then stuffed back into its clothing with vegetable matter to bulk it up. Needless to say, the result is horribly grotesque at best.

How will you proceed?

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin watches beyond the Veil as the spirits befuddle the Worg's mind and he is ready to order them to do the same with the second Word. But that becomes unnecessary. As the noises of the wilderness once again go back to normal, Kalezin 's breathing goes back to normal. So this is what a battle looked like? He learned so much!

His familiar, Druz the Thrush, settles again in his shoulder. It seems, for all the world to say something to Kalezin, which laughs in response. He then turns to his companions. He should have paid more heed to his master's instructions on healing! Kalezin tries to bind them with some clothes.

"How are your wounds, insanii? Can you walk?"

[Ancient Hippo]

As the last Worg falls, Caerwyn's aura also fades and he stumbles and falls on the ground.

"Why did you have to kill them? Couldn't you had waited just a few seconds? It doesn't work anymore if you-" He quickly silences himself as he realizes what he had been saying. Before anyone can ask anything, he changes the subject. "Oh, I'm fine. A little roughed up, but otherwise fine. Though..." He wiggles his feet a little. "Walking might be a little difficult."


Do you add the HP from leveling right away, or does it only increase your max HP? If you don't, Caerwyn is really feeling a little unstable, otherwise he's just trying to coax a piggyback ride from Zhaag. :smalltongue:

[Moranica]

Paiku takes the much needed rest to heal herself.

She also signals to others, pointing at their wounds and at her own wounds.



Heal [roll0]

[Athaleon]

The worg's bite was savage, but with Paiku's aid, Gideon was able to make it back to the trading post with the others and recuperate. Didn't look infected, at any rate. One more lesson learned.

[Miraqariftsky]

"Dis be right dung strange. No be da mekken sense, dis." Zhaag grunts as he returns to the clearing where the others are, bloodied javelin in one hand, dead giant wolf's tail in the other. From the dragging of the carcass, the assault and the pursuit, the undergrowth has become a mess of flat-trampled grasses and ferns, scarred flower-fields, torn vine-walls and broken branches.

Upon seeing the corpse-doll... the bait... the halforc drops his burden, scratches his head and says to nobody in particular, "Verrah strange" He turns to Willison and asks, "Boss, why you tink dis be? Dese no be dah ord-ee-naar-ee beasties, eh?"

While waiting on an answer, he busies himself with water-soaked and brandy-soaked rags, cleaning and binding the wounds of those who were injured in this brief, mad melee.

[DaedalusMkV]

Willison considers the problem for a moment. "Well, I think from their speech and the situation those wolves were intelligent. They must have faked the voice and lured us here to ambush us." The small Wizard nods. "Either that or this was all a cunning charade put together by a particularly subtle spellcaster. I'm rather certain all of this could have been staged with magic if necessary."

Strangely, Caledor is nowhere to be found. Despite a quick search of the area, he seems to have vanished without a trace.
-----

Setting out once more, the group makes good time on their journey back to the Levetons' trading posts, and as the sun begins to fall behind the horizon you make one final push to reach the safety and relative comfort of the post. It is almost fully dark by the time you arrive, magical light produced by the group's spellcasters lighting the way well enough to keep going without risk of hurting yourselves with a misstep. Fire-lights glow withing the greathouse inside the walls, as expected, but less expected is the light of a pair of torches on the wall flanking the ancient wooden fort's newer gate, and as you approach a humanoid figure appears on top of the wall and calls out. "Ho there! State your names and your business here. This post is under the protection of the Swordlords of Restov, and we'll send you packing right well if you think to start any trouble!" The guard, or at least you assume the figure must be a guard, seems to be wearing heavy mail armour and carries a longbow in one hand, though details are badly obscured by the poor lighting conditions. Perhaps those soldiers from Restov Oleg was expecting have finally arrived?


Thus exits Caledor. No amound of searching reveals any information; he seems to have simply vanished into thin air.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin


Kalezin is mostly silent on the way back, almost contemplative. His first battle seemed to have stirred his thoughts. Sometimes he mutters to himselfin his native language, as if proving a point to an unseen observer. His pet thrush also follows him around.

When they approach the trading post, Kalezin is ready to quicken his pace but is stopped short by the guard's challenge. He turns to his companions:

"Is that a new development, insanii? When we last left this outpost, there were no guards. Should I go forward and talk with them?"

[Athaleon]

"Better you than me, I'd probably wind up pissing them off. There's even the off chance that one of them knows me," Gideon replied in a low voice.

[Ancient Hippo]

A smug smile rises at Caerwyn's face when he notices the guard. When the swordlords finally managed to send someone, all the bandits in the range of a days walk have been driven away.

"We are charting this region with a charter from the Swordlords. Oleg knows us, we have helped him with his little bandit problem."


If any Diplomacy checks are necessary, he will just take 10 for a result of 20.

[Moranica]

Paiku tries hard to bring out a smile, but the prospect of walls, a warm fire and nothing lethal around is just to much for her. A tear rolls down her cheek as the guard speaks up.

Moro just looks confused, until Paiku sends him off. Wolves don't belong in buildings.

[Miraqariftsky]

"Huh" Zhaag mutters as he listens to Willison's explanation, then suddenly starts as he notices that one of their elven companions has gone missing. "Ey-up, y'all! Enny-buddy seed where dat Kaal-ee-door feller'd gone?"

Zhaag scowls, beetling brows furrowing as he says, "Ye tinks dat Kaal-ee-door feller wuz diddit und scarpered?"

He then coqs his head at Caerwyn and asks, "Uh, ow's de wound comin', bub? Wuzzent ye hurted bad like Paiku und dis udder Gidjun feller?"

~~~

When they arrive at the Levetons' post, Zhaag stiffens, almost reaching for a javelin, then grins. He drops his the harness of his heavy-laden makeshift loot-sled cobbled together from branches and rope and vines... as well as the lead-lines dragging two giant wolf carcasses and waves up at the guard.

"EY UP Y"ALL!" he calls, grinning like an idiot. "WE BEAT DEM GITS, BRUNG DUH LOOT, UND BE COME FER STEW! STEEEEEEEW! WOOHOO!"

[DaedalusMkV]

The guard squints down for a moment, trying to make out details in the magical light illuminating your group. "Ah. Yeah, I was told about you lot. You look about right. Here, I'll get the gate open for ya, then you can come inside." He turns around, looking down into the fort, and shouts "Hey, Bairn, open it up." You can hear a muffled thump as the heavy log barring the gate is pulled away and dropped to the ground, and the gate swings open with a slight creak.

Inside, two men sit at the now-burning firepit in the center of the old fort, while a third stands beside the gate. As your group files in, you note that four tents have been set up inside, along the south wall of the palisade. Once you're all inside the man at the gate moves to close and re-bar it while one of the armoured men at the firepit, slightly better equipped than the rest, stands up and moves over to you. "Aye, welcome to our beautiful little camp. My name's Kasten Garess, and I run this grand army." The sarcasm in his voice as he describes the situation is unmistakable. "You must be the brave explorers Oleg was telling me about. I hope you managed to put down some bandit scum, eh? I'm supposed to pass on a few jobs to you, if you're up for them, but I'm sure you're overdue for a bit of a rest and some food. I'm betting the Swordlords won't care if we wait until morning, eh?" For whatever reason, the man seems to be in a somber mood as he tromps back to the fire-pit and waves you on forwards.


I'll give you a chance to interject here. If nobody says anything in the next day or so I'll assume that you agree with Garess and head on inside and move things along.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin left Caerwyb take care of the situation. He was, after all, part of the original team, and here longer. Things were moving up in this cold frontier, and Kalezin, for the first time in a long time, felt like life had grand things in store for him. Mumbling a gracious reply, he went on to prepare a hot bath, eat (with the others, if they are so inclined) and then think on the things he learned. His mind was ripe with possibilities...

[Ancient Hippo]

"I'm up for it, as long as the pay is adequate."

Normally Caerwyn would had had the sense to at least ask what the jobs were about, but the call of a real and warm bed is too much for him to resist.

[Miraqariftsky]

Oblivious to Kasten's sarcasm and sombre undercurrent, Zhaag whistles his way in, dragging the makeshift loot-sled and the giant wolf pelts behind him. When finally inside, he stretches and helps bar the gate behind them.

"Uh, youse be champ-ee-yuns, ur yeh gots yer udder boyz ah-patrollen 'rounda-ways, boss Gahrr-essz?" Zhaag says as his orcish thews easily lift more than his half of the gate bar into place.

[DaedalusMkV]

The ill-humoured Brevish soldier grunts in response to Caerwyn's comment. "Eh, that's for you to decide. I'd call it pretty good, but I'm not you, you're not me. And be glad of that." As Zhaag asks his question, Kasten chuckles with dry humour. "Oh yeah, great champions we are. Bairn over there once took on the great lord Hambone in single combat, almost won. Right Bairn?" He returns to his off-tempo laughter as the other guard bristles, scowling back. "We'll keep this shabby little fort safe, don't you worry."

---

Inside the Greathouse, you smell the distinct odour of cooking stew. As your group files in, now larger in number, Oleg peeks his head out from the kitchen doorway. "Oh, you're back. Hope ya had a good week, put those lawless ruffians down for me? Svetlana, we've got guests, heat up some more of that food. C'mon in, tell me how it went. Hey, who're you?" The question is addressed to Jax, standing near the back of the group.

The rough-looking, haggard River Kingdomer steps forwards a bit in response. "Jaxon Vaduin, riverman and odd-jobsman, at your service sir. These kind folks picked me up out in the wild and brought me back here. I've got a bit of silver I can pay you with for the meal and a night in the stables, and I'll be off east to Restov. That okay with you?"

Oleg grumbles for a moment, then nods. "Aye, that'll do."

[Miraqariftsky]

Before entering the greathouse, Zhaag stops to ask Kasten, shrugging at the thick cords slung over his shoulders, the loot sled and the warg carcasses scraping in the dirt, "Oh, aye, dassaright, den. Oi, uh, where Zhaag put dese tings?"

Coming up with the others, he catches the tail end of Oleg's words and claps a meaty hand about Jaxon's shoulders and says, "Hah! Dis ere Jax-Man bugger, Jax be traitor, but duh good kinda traitor wot be-traitored dem bad dung bandit gits. Duh rezz uf duh uz wuz potshottin' wid dem bad dung gits, two un' two wuz deaded to usses choppas..."

Zhaag's hands mash the air about him, beady eyes squinting dramatically and then he lunges, slapping the table with a heavy palm. "Duh liddle master magicked up a fog soes nuddin be seein nuddin but den dat Kress-kill scary lady wot youse sedd lobbed some magick fire us well, burned nasty. Afore Kress-kill cud maek wid duh choppa, duh Jax-Man 'ere clubbed 'er good und Zhaag finished duh Kress-kill wid Sarry-in-Sky's choppa. Deh ress o' duh bad dung gits runned aweh aftar dat"

He snaps his fingers, suddenly remembering, "Oi, right. Uh, sumfink, whuh wussat... Dem beasties, dem wolveses, mostly, dem wus been attackin' all strange und smart-like, dat dey were"

[DaedalusMkV]

The group settles in, introductions and explanations out of the way, and eats a hearty dinner prepared (or reprepared, in this case) by Svetlana. Oleg happily purchases all of the trade goods you acquired from the bandit camp, planning on hauling them to Restov and reselling them at a profit, along with any other goods you might need sold. He and Svetlana seem to be in a better mood now that the Bandit threat has been resolved and that the guards promised by the Swordlords, grouchy as they may be, have arrived. The night passes uneventfully, and dawn brings a quiet if slightly chilly morning.

Once you've dealt with immediate business, Kasten comes to find you. "Right, about that work. See, we've had a bunch of complaints about some Kobolds who live in the hills around here. Apparently, they've been harrassing folks around the Greenbelt, causing problems and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Apparently they've never been a problem before, and the Swordlords are willing to pay good gold to anyone who makes sure they aren't a threat in the future, however you want to do that. Second, I was supposed to offer a bounty on bandits. By the sounds of things, though, you've already met it, which means that this is for you." He gestures to one of the other men, who brings over a small wooden casket. Kasten pulls a ring of keys out of his pocket, fiddles with it for a moment, then unlocks the box. Inside is a glittering trove of gold, plus what looks to be a few platinum coins. "Go ahead, take it. You've earned it. Last, I've got a bit of a personal request. There's a man I'm pretty sure joined up with the bandits 'round here named Falgrim Sneeg. He used to be part of my company, but he ran off with our pay for an entire month. If you bring him to me alive, I'll give you your choice of the best weapons I can get my hands on. I'll take him dead too, but the reward won't be quite the same." He grimaces. "Last, there's a couple of wanted posters up on the wall over there you might wanna check out, locals put 'em up when they heard you were around."


The casket contains 10 PP and 300 GP (400 GP total value). It's all yours.

If you manage to contain the Kobold threat, either by eliminating them or by some nonlethal means, you will be awarded 800 GP by the Swordlords.

Kasten is willing to give your group four Masterwork Weapons of your choice if you manage to bring back Falgrim Sneeg alive. Dead, you'll get two weapons instead.

There are two wanted posters set up on one wall of the trading post. First, posted by a local hunter named Vekkel, is for a massive, brutal boar called Tuskgutter by the locals. Often spotted in the forest, somewhere to the southwest, the creature is responsible for more than one death. Vekkel promises his best crossbow to anyone who brings in the beast's head. Second, Svetlana is looking for a supply of Moon Radishes, rare vegetables that she uses heavily in her cooking. Anyone who manages to bring her a good sack of the radishes will be awarded 250 GP. You recall a patch of radishes not far to the southwest that matches their description.

If you want to purchase gear at the Trading Post, Oleg can be considered to have any non-Masterwork mundane equipment close at hand, and can order Masterwork items from the city. In addition, he has the following special items you might be interested in:
A wand of Magic Missile with ten charges remaining. 75 GP.
Two scrolls of Cure Light Wounds (Oleg has no idea where they came from, and is willing to sell both for 25 GP)
Two potions of Cure Light Wounds (Oleg is willing to sell them to you at a small discount. 75 GP for both.)

From here, you can talk to anyone currently at the Trading Post, and make any purchases you might want to. Locals stop by occasionally, and by waiting one day you can make a Gather Information test to accumulate rumours and information they might have available. Once you've done all you want to here, tell me where you want to head for.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin


Kalezin woke up in excellent spirits, after staying up late communicating with his familiar. He is sure he has made significant progress in his powers. In the morning, he comes down impeccably dressed in his signature scarves, today a brilliant orange color, adorned with purple. He makes a strong coffee with his own equipment, and makes every show of enjoying it. After the hearty breakfast, he listens attentively to the various errands that need doing in these parts and his eyes sparkle when he sees the gold.

"Rest assured, efentii Kasten. All these will be taken care of." And with that he smiles a friendly smile to his new companions, sure they will not disagree.

After the briefing, he makes a note of all the posters in his powerful mind and then goes on to mingle with the crowd. He is specifically interested in learning the story of the soldier Kasten, looking to find him alone and get him to talk. After that, he will try to know the locals and get a feel for the area. In the end, he will chat with Oleg and try to barter for a steady footed, well groomed mule from him. He will also try to discern how he sees all these

I don't know what checks are needed, so I will do a series of Diplomacy rolls
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

EDIT:It seems that I either get 1s or20s here

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn eats his breakfast in the farthest corner of the table, writing a letter at the same time. Apart from greeting everyone and coughing audibly upon seeing Kalezin's scarves, he stays silent. Upon completing the letter, he hands it to Jax and says:

"You're going to Restov, right? I would be eternally grateful if you would deliver this letter for a friend of mine who lives there..."

After that, he returns to the group, now much more talkative.

"So, we have lots of work to do, do you have any preferences from where to start?"

I have too much things to do right now, so I will write the letter that Caerwyn wants to get to Restov later, if it is ok?

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag pushes back his fourth clean trencher, rubs his belly and belches horribly.

He listens to Kasten as if he were back at the Abbey's halls and his eyes suddenly bug out when the little casket is opened, revealing the gleaming stacks of coin. "Uh... ah..." he mutters incoherently, this being his first time to ever see this much money in one place--- and all apparently newly minted, too.

"Zhaag ne'r seen-a dis much shinies all at once" he finally says. "Zhaag not know wot be doing wit Zhaag's part. Um. Uh. Ur. Zhaag ne'r true-lee 'ad Zhaag's own money. Liddle master, wotta youse tink be da wise ting a doin' wid dis all?"

Zhaag holds up one grubby finger at the mention of bandits. "Um, oi boss Kasten. Dem dung bandit gits. Ain't done-a yet, dem. Dey runned away wen wese choppa der boss Kress-kill. Runned away purty dung fast und Zhaag no did count, but duh Jax-man, 'im know wot da many und da where. Sarry-in-Sky 'opes dey repentings but mebbe dey not. If dey not, den dey be choppa, den dey be dedded"

Zhaag squints at the squiggly thingies on the paper and turns to his other fellow explorers... and now apparently, bounty hunters. "Uh, wot dis ting be saying? Youse boyz... uh, und Paiku, wotta youse tink we be do da next?"

[DaedalusMkV]

Kasten seems to be in as poor a mood as ever, and he seems grumpy as he answers Zhaag. "Yeah, I'm well aware of that. Bounty was for six Bandits, dead or alive. That's what you delivered. Oleg was tellin' me about that Stag Lord fellow you heard about, and I sent word back to the Swordlords. I'm willing to bet you that a week or two from now we get another bounty in for his head. Glad you lot are willing to help out, anyhow." Somehow, he doesn't sound very glad.

---

Jax is finishing packing what meagre belongings he still has when Caerwyn finds him. "Sure, I can do that. You guys saved me a lot of trouble, and you were willing to take me at my word. I got no problem taking a bit of time to do you a solid. Where's it going to?" The thuggish riverman seems to be in a fairly good mood; a good meal and a roof to sleep under have done wonders for him, and he's somehow managed to acquire a razor to shave. He clearly looks forwards to his return to civilization.

---

Willison sighs. "Zhaag, I'm not so sure I'm really suited to the wilderness. I thought this would be an adventure, but it turned out to just be a bunch of trudging through dreary forests, sleeping on the ground and nearly getting killed. I think I might stay here for a while and see if I can do some research. As to the gold, maybe you should save it. I'm sure I could get a hold of a magic weapon, or maybe some fine armour, if you manage to accumulate enough."


None of the locals know Kasten at all, and Kasten himself clams right up when you bring up his past, growing even more morose than usual and refusing to talk at all until the topic of conversation changes. Kasten's men are nearly as unwilling to speak of it. All they'll tell you is that Kasten really doesn't like to talk about anything before he became a mercenary working for the Swordlords just over a year ago. You do, however, manage to get the idea that he might be part of the Brevish nobility, at least at some point.

Thus exits Willison. He'll still be around the Trading Post, should you need his services, but from this point on he's done with travelling if only for the sake of my sanity. Jax is leaving the Greenbelt, at least for now, but I don't think it's too much of a spoiler to say that he'll be back at some point in the future. Now we're left with five adventurers, a much more reasonable number.

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag beams, oblivious to certain implications that might be arousing suspicion in more savvy warrior's ears. Grinning from ear to ear, he claps the captain on his shoulder, almost staggering him as he replies, "Op cors wese be da willings und doings duh dat und doss. Da Sarry-in-Sky well sez well be 'elpin wot be 'elpin und smitin' wot don't be repentin'."

~~~

As he listens to Willison, Zhaag's smile slowly curls downward into a grimace of head-tilting puzzlement, then a sad, sad frown.

Eventually after thinking it through, he says, "Uuuuuuhhhhhhdddd... dat iz avdentoor, liddle master. Uuuuuhhhmmm... youse be alrights dah estaying be 'ere da only, den? Uhnghhhh... iz da alrights dat deh shinies Zhaag be leavin' wid youse, den?"

[Athaleon]

After spending the night glancing furtively at the guards and keeping his trap shut, Gideon is finally satisfied that none of the guards seem to have heard of him. He finally pipes up when his companions begin to debate their next move.

"This Stag Lord is the bandit's leader, right? So once we get back out there, and gather some information about his thugs' activities, we'll focus our efforts on killing his men and stopping his rackets — Even if it means letting some less-organized rabble go, for now. We could even try to bring his rivals into the fold, if he has any and if they're halfway agreeable."

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalzein had spent the day mingling with the locals, buying drinks, chatting, helping in minor ways and generally establishing relationships, something he excels at. When his companions gather to debate their next move, he also takes a seat, a cup of strong coffee in his hand and a smile at his lips.

"I am beginning to really like the North, insanii! By the Spire, it seems that the era is filled with wonderful occurrences! The locals say that the old bridge at the Southeast is haunted, so perhaps we could look at it. Also,the northern shore of Taskwater seems to have had recently a strange cult dwelling there, doing all sorts of nasty things. And finally, it seems that there's a bunch of giant spiders dwelling somewhere a couple miles south of here. All in all, an adventurous place this is, if all that are true! "

[Moranica]

Paiku signals to Zhaag that the newcomers really should learn signlanguage. It's not that hard to learn and it means she'll be able to help them better in times of need.

To Zhaagh himself she says:" I go, where you go. You seem like a good protector like myself."

[Athaleon]

"Kalezin, you and I have a very different idea of "wonderful"." Gideon sighs. "It sounds as though we ought to secure our own position here before we start prodding the hornet's nest proper. This 'haunted' bridge wouldn't happen to be holding up traffic coming our way, would it?"

[Miraqariftsky]

After having pocketed at least a pouch of some of the money at, presumably, Wilison's insistence, Zhaag spots Paiku's waving and kneels down to her level, squinting attentively... and grimacing as he tries to process what she's trying to say. Finally, he gives one big nod and trundles off to find the others...

Along the way, if he spots some armourer, he stops by and drops the dough, saying, "Ey youse-ah, may Sarry-in-Sky be a-smilin' on ye. Uh, fer dis much shinies, wot be yer bestest armah und sheeld? Oi, dat und dat, izzat arrights?"


Koff. Saaaaaay, snatch 80-gold-worth + [roll0], more-or-less... They got some suit of scale mail [or chainshirt?] and a kite shield of the +3 AC variety?

...and when he does find the others, he lays one meaty hand on Kalezin's shoulder and says, launching into a series of flapping finger-wiggles to try and illustrate his point, all the while with his face entirely serious, "Ey youse talky man. Call Yer Zin und yer Gid-jun. 'Ow be yer wotsits goin' 'ere? Oi's. Dah Paiku sez dat youse be needin' ah-be-ah-lurrnin' duh speak-how uh duh finger-talky 'acause dah Paiku no can talky. Arrighty?"

"Oi" he says then, scratching his head. "Where youse bees wanting tuh be goings agehn after dis re-soup-lie? Duh thingamajigger furm Kasten sed lotsa-lotsa stuff. Zhaag tink iz be best ta be droppin' by dem kobolds da-next. Erm, or mebbe get dat boar und dose veggibles furm datta place wot wese passed by... mebbe. Wotta youse tinks?"

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin was about to respond to Gideon, cup in hand, when Zhaag's oak of a hand landed on his shoulder. The next few seconds were spend trying to wince, balance the cup and not exclaim loudly. After this complex gymnastics was over, and with not a drop spilled, Kalezin 's smile reappeared instantly.

"Insan Gideon, I agree. I am a fervent believer of the slow and steady ideology. I think that we should expand slowly from this secured base, but towards the kobolds, which are a known, but yet unfathomable agent. I also propose that we confront any and all obstacles on our way."

He then turns to Zhaag

"Insan Zhaag, I was meaning to ask about the language Paiku uses. I am a student of languages and I would like to learn it. I think I have figured out some principles. I am sure I will manage the rest soon enough"

Can I reallocate one of my new skill points to learning the language, oh kind DM?

[Ancient Hippo]

"There's an alchemy shop named "Powdernose's Powders" at the market district. It should be attended most of the time by the owners daughter. She's quite easy to recognize from her lisp, it's quite pronounced. Give it to her if you can," Caerwyn responds to Jax's inquiry about the letters destionation.

The letter:

I'm glad to tell you that I have managed to get here safe and in one piece, and I hope that I still am when you recieve this letter. We have already made a short excursion to the greenbelt, and intend to embark on another soon. Apart from some bloodhungry bandits, it was mostly uneventful. As for our bet, those radishes are indeed called "Moon Radishes", not "Moonshine Radishes". You owe me five silvers.

(Under the text, there is an apparently empty space which, once splashed by blood, will reveal a secret message, written in invisible ink.)

"Dear friend, it is of utmost importance that you inform the rest of the faitful about my absence at the next meeting, and relay the following message to them:"

It is to made known for all of the followers of the Slumbering Speaker Below, that a faithful servant and an enforcer of the secrecy protecting us from the relentless assault of fools, diabolists and the vile slaves of the demon "lord" Abraxas:

-That he is operating covertly in the Greenbelt area;

-That he, to maintain his cover, will deny association with the Coils;

-That he advices the faithful to keep a low profile while in the Greenbelt area;

-That any offering or asking for assistance should be done as discreetly as possible.

The Headless King will reclaim his throne!




------------

Returning to the group planning their next move, he agrees with Kalezin's suggestion: "I agree with going to deal with the kobolds. As far as I know, they are more easy to negotiate with than, for example, orcs. We might gain some allies, who knows."

[Athaleon]

"The Kobolds it is, then, if there are no objections. If they prove to be cooperative, it'll be good to have at least someone out here on side."

[Moranica]

With grand gestures, Paiku points south and heads out the gate to use her whistle and calls Moro.

[DaedalusMkV]

The group spends another day at the post, making last-minute purchases and preparations while Kalezin sequentially interrogates the locals who come to the post for any knowledge of the local Kobolds and their lair. While most seem to know little about them other than that they dwell somewhere to the south and rarely venture far to the north. Eventually, though, a hard-looking hunter named Welles has more details to offer. "Yeah, I used to do a bit of trading with the Sootscales. Not too bad, for Kobolds at least. They were always happy to trade good iron and copper for leather and medicine. I never actually saw their lair, but but I'm pretty sure the meeting point we used wasn't too far away. It was a bit north of the Shrike river. Don't go down that way anymore, though; too dangerous for my tastes what with the way things've been going the last few months."

-----

Now better informed on their target destination, the group sets forth early in the afternoon, now fully mounted. Kalezin and Gideon ride mules, Kalezin's recently purchased and Gideon's inherited from Willison. At first the ride is quite pleasant, but after about three hours the landscape begins to look more barren, with less animals around. Shortly after that, about two hours before dusk and just as you're beginning to think about stopping for the evening meal, you begin to note that some of the trees and shrubs seem to be covered over partially with what seems to be oversized spider-webbing, and a little bit more progress is enough to convince you that you've definitely entered the area infested by spiders described to Kalezin the day before. The area is strangely quiet, and besides a few lone trees and a few rocky outcroppings a short way to the south has few discerning landmarks.


How will you proceed? Will you attempt to search for the spiders to attempt to kill them, ride through as quickly as possible or try to skirt the area?

If you do anything but try to avoid the spider-infested region, please give me a Perception check.

The map on page 1 of the OOC will be updated very shortly.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin has chosen a deep purple scarf and a green vest for the new outing. Astride his new acquisition, which he took pains to make as well presentable as possible, Kalezin seems to enjoy riding instead of walking. Even the cold seems to annoy him less. it is obvious he is not an experienced rider, but he seems to manage to stay on top easily.
In his customary way, he easily picks conversations with the rest of the group. Today, he focuses on Paiku, making rapid progress in communicating with her. Rarely if ever does he need the help of Jax. Though, to be fair, Jax sometimes is more difficult to understand than Paiku.

As the landscape becomes more barren, Kalezin finds himself in an onesided conversation with Gideon, again.

"As I tell you, insani Gideon, mules are superior to horses for the adventurous gentleman. They carry more, they graze more easily, they are surefooted and they are fearless. I cannot understand the obsession with horses. Sure, they are fast, but not that faster. Surely, we are the epitome of wisdom right now..."

Kalezin suddenly notices the webs and stops, going behind Gideon.

"Insanii, I think we found the area of the fearsome spiders. We shouldn't let them harass these trade routes and the locales. I think we should ...engage them. Insani Zhaag remember, if there is need for your sword arm, I can make it stronger. Just wait a bit before you rush again, yes?"

With that, he waits for the others' decision, casting nervous glances and staying near the big half orc. Near as in, quite behind. He also calls Druz nearby with a quick phrase in Kellish, ready to send him scouting if needed.

Perception roll [roll0]

[Athaleon]

"We'll need to deal with them sooner or later," Gideon agreed. Though the sight of the first webs sent chills up his spine; he hated bugs, spiders especially, and the bastard monsters were even more nightmarish when they were big enough to see them proper.

Nervously palming the hilt of his sword, he scanned the area all around him, half-expecting to hear the clatter of chitinous limbs, and the abominable chittering of... whatever the hell sound giant spiders made.


Perception: [roll0]

[Miraqariftsky]

Going out into the wilds like this, Zhaag has to admit that he is a bit conflicted. So many new sights and sounds, where things are fresh and vibrant and alive, unlike in the pits where everything is rotten... except the fungi, unlike in the big cities, where there are too many people and too much noise. On the other hand, everything is indeed too new, too unfamiliar.

The only comfort besides prayer and fighting is relying on and protecting the Little Master, but now, he's gone. Zhaag supposes he could do the same for that little lady, that Paiku. Come to think of it, they're both little people with magick, surely it won't be too much different?

Zhaag snorts warily, warscythe in hand. The land around has grown dry and hot... and dead.

The halforc nods and grunts at Kalezin and says, gesturing at the monstrous cobwebs, "Aye, tenks. Eh, wot? Ye tinks wese shud jess burn dis lot, ta maek it easy-like?"

[Athaleon]

"Do spiderwebs burn?" Gideon wondered aloud. "No matter, if the forest ignites we haven't a hope in hell of controlling it." He'd read stories about forest fires moving fast enough to overtake fleeing animals, and Gideon certainly couldn't run as fast as a deer. "At least we can fight spiders."

[DaedalusMkV]

The group advances cautiously into the clearly spider-infested area, weapons drawn and ready for a fight. This part of the grasslands is eerie, near-silent and lacking the constant presence of small animals and other wildlife that has accompanied you all through the Greenbelt. Every minute or so you come across another tree or bush covered in greyish webbing, and after about ten minutes moving through the deserted landscape you see ahead of you an area much more heavily webbed-over than before, surrounding a large rocky outcropping about ten feet wide and eight or nine feet tall. While at first the area seems as deserted as the rest of the territory you've been making your way through, Caerwyn and Gideon manage to catch a glimpse of a few skittering shadows nearly invisible against the webbing covering the area, shouting a warning just as half a dozen low-bodied spiders of unfortunate size burst from cover chittering angrily.


There are six Spiders total. Two are much larger than the others, roughly the size of a short human man, while the rest are about the size of large dogs. Otherwise, they look much like you'd expect a horrible oversized arachnid would; too many eyes, too many legs and nasty poison-dripping mandibles. You caught them far enough away that they don't have any opportunity to make use of a Surprise Round, so we'll go right into normal combat.

Initiative order is:
Caerwyn, Gideon, Zhaag
Spiders
Kalazin, Paiku

And so on and so forth. Feel free to post in any order, though actions will be resolved according to the Initiative order above. Kalezin begins combat with the Mage Armour spell he cast earlier fully active. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me OOC. Further, important details in the map below.


Map:
http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/SpiderFight1_zps684c9a64.png

The blue rectangles represent webbed-over areas. Anyone who enters into the webbed areas must make a DC 15 Acrobatics or Strength check (your choice; Acrobatics represents carefully picking through the webbing, Strength simple forcing your way through it. Failure causes you to become Entangled. While Entangled by the web, you can escape with a DC 12 Strength or Escape Artist check as a Standard Action.

BS are the big spiders. S are the smaller spiders.

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

As the company progresses deeper and deeper into the spider infested forest, Kalezin becomes more and more nervous, muttering in Kellish and staying near someone stronger.

When the spiders finally appear, Kalezin almost jumps from his mule as the chittering starts. He shouts at Zhaag

"Zhaag wait, don't run yet! I can make you stronger".

He then starts invoking the spirits again. He searches Beyond the Veil for spirits of Strength and Stone, Resilience and Vitality. He then binds them in Jhaag, making bigger and stronger, while chanting. Outwardly, again sounds of rustling and invisible footsteps converge on Zhaag, who starts to grow.

"Gthest dan Chirah, mih kame Rowte, lpeh mih, Rtof mih..."

When the time comes, Kalezin will move if need be, to cast Enlarge Person at Zhaag. Range 35 ft.

If prior actions have made that impossible. he then instead try to Slumber a spider.

[Athaleon]

Gideon shuddered as the spiders emerged from their lairs. Kalezin had the right idea, though - If the spiders refused to be their proper size, Gideon would have to make himself bigger. Holding his scimitar up in a guard, a dull white glow spread across the edge of the blade, while his other hand contorted to the needs of the Enlarge Person spell. Gideon inflected a different set of syllables from Kalezin's, and felt the familiar combination of giddiness, numbness, and slight disorientation. Nevertheless, he felt instantly more confident.


Swift action, using Arcane Pool to give his weapon a +1 enhancement bonus (since it's already masterwork, it amounts to +1 damage).

Casting Enlarge Person on himself, and taking a five-foot step to the left (so that he's beside the tree). Spiders coming at the party will have to go through Gideon and the also-enlarged Zhaag, or take extra actions to outflank.

Spells:
Level 0: Detect Magic, Read Magic, Prestidigitation, Arcane Mark

Level 1: Enlarge Person, Shield, Frostbite, Frostbite

Arcane Pool: 5/6

[Miraqariftsky]

"Whooaah! EYUUGH! Hwaahhh? Hnnnnghh!" come Zhaag's exclamations of surprise at the strange sensation of being magickally enlarged.

He weaves and wobbles... then stands firm, planting his feet solidly. Idly, he takes a bite out of a nearby tree and spits leaves.

His curiousity satisfied, he fixes on the nearest spider and swings his warscythe down upon the foul thing...


AC 14/19 HP 24/24
+6 Str +2 BAB +2 Charge -1 Size -1 PA
[roll0]
+9 Str +3 PA
[roll1]


Edit: Did you hear that? SPLAKAK! ~facepalm~ Yyyyyak, hahahaha. AoO, I leave to the chief.

[Ancient Hippo]

Well, it seems that I have finally stopped coughing blood enough to post again. (Well, it was not that bad, but you get the idea.)

As the people around him start growing to twice their size, Caerwyn suddenly feels very, very small. "You go kill those big spiders, I'll keep the small ones from flanking you..." He tries to sound assertive, but his voice falters, and it sounds more like an apology for not being twice as tall as a normal man.

He grits his teeth and draws his crossbow. Sure, it was a good thing that Zhaag was enlargened, but still... What if the half-orc decides to give him a friendly pat on the back or something?

Firing as S1:
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Sorry that the post isn't very verbose, but I'm not exactly fully recovered yet. Working on it, though!

[DaedalusMkV]

Kalezin and Gideon both begin working their magic, different sources of power resulting in equivalent effects as both Zhaag and Gideon grow to superhuman proportions, though neither makes any move to attack themselves. Caerwyn takes aim and fires his crossbow at one of the smaller spiders closest to the group, wounding it grievously but not quite putting it down for the count as the bolt juts from its thorax. The injured spider scuttles forwards, taking cover from Caerwyn's missile weapon behind a nearby tree. The other dog-sized spiders, no longer quite so aggressive after seeing their intended prey grow huge, cluster together a little ways from the group, moving cautiously in case the giant men move to attack them. The two large spiders, meanwhile, both set to work hindering their targets. Both move closer to the group, setting up a more effective angle, then with motions vaguely resembling choking both spiders hurl blobs of sticky webbing at the two Enlarged warriors, hindering Zhaag with masses of the sticky goo, though Gideon manages to avoid the sticky mess. Paiku wait nearby, ready to use her healing magic on anyone who is injured in the ensuing fight.


Caerwyn hits and knocks the vast majority of the HP off of S1, leaving it very badly injured. All of the small spiders move forwards to cluster together for strength in numbers, using the Total Defense action as they focus all of their attention on dodging away from any attacks directed at them. S1 is hiding behind the tree, using it as Light Cover from any attack which would pass through the tree's square.

The large spiders both move, then hit Zhaag with their Web, Entangling him, though the Web attack against Gideon misses. Zhaag takes a -2 penalty on Attack rolls and a -4 penalty to Dexterity, halfs his movement speed and cannot run until he manages to remove the webs. The Webs can be wriggled out of with a DC12 Escape Artist check, burst with a DC12 Strength check or cut with a Slashing weapon attack that deals at least 6 Damage. Any of these require a Standard Action to accomplish, though the person caught in the web takes a -4 penalty to any Strength checks to burst the web and cannot Attack it.


Your move again. See the map below for enemy locations.



http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/SpiderFight2_zps6ab98274.png

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin brings his senses back to Here and watches with the familiar rush Zhaag grow in size and stature. Even in the midst of (relative) danger, seeing the effects of his Mastery is rewarding.

But the spiders are still there. Kalezin takes some small steps forward, just below Zhaag and Gideon. Now, the big hairy multi-eyed horror is within reach of his Mastery. Once more, he goes Beyond the Veil, tearing even deeper, to the Spirits and Vestiges of Sleep, Paralysis and Lithi. Kalezin summons them, cajoles them and directs them to one of the Big Spiders, to put in Slumber.

"Lysiparas hte rohor, nidb tis, Dugo trisper..."

Slumber hex at BS1, DC 15

[Moranica]

"whaaarrgg....", a gutteral roar erups from Moro, and he seems ready to pounce.

Paiku holds him steady at her side though, as she advances till behind Zhaagh and waits.

Both just move forward.

[Athaleon]

Gideon conjures a minor spell that washes through his body like adrenaline, momentarily lending speed to his limbs. He takes advantage of the boost to lunge forward and make two quick strikes against the nearest spider.


Taking a five-foot step forward, and using Spell Combat & Spellstrike with the Arcane Mark cantrip. Two attacks against S1:

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

[Athaleon]

Crit confirmation:

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Miraqariftsky]

"GBLAAHRGH!" Zhaag spits as the choking mass of webbing engulfs him. His polearm useless against its bulk, he heaves against its hold, mighty thews churning the sticky, grey morass...


W'elp. Down to +2 on Str +4 Str.

Waitasec! Checked the d20pfsrd. Hah, looks like Enlarge Person DOES add a +2 Str.

Str check to burst free, since that seems to be the most logical option, given those. [roll0] Alrighty, here goes something. Hope it works...

Whew.

Updated map-wise position: one 1x1 square away from previous position, movement bearing 4-o-clock.


...and then bursts the steel-strong mire, stumbling forward with the momentum, bits of webbing still clinging to his limbs and armour. He hefts and whirls his warscythe, bellowing in defiance. "WWAAAAAAUUUGGGGGHHH!!"

[Ancient Hippo]

Caerwyn notices, to his displeasure, that he is unable to see the spiders properly behind his enlargened companions. He darts to his left, reloading his crossbow as he runs. (Something that would be very dangerous if if attempted by a less skilled archer.) Upon getting a clean line of sight to the spiders, he aims carefully... Then curses.

"Why these $&?! spiders can't stay still for a #£@! moment?"

He breathes deep in again, then sends a bolt flying towards one of the smaller spiders.


Move action: Move 5 squares right.
Standard: Fire at S4

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[DaedalusMkV]

Gideon strides forward, enlarged limbs and sword granting him more than enough reach to strike at the first of the small spiders from a safe distance. His flurry of strikes is enough to land the killing blow on the already-wounded creature, slicing deep into its abdomen and nearly cutting the oversized arachnid in two. Caerwyn's second bolt flies true, injuring the spider closest to him but once again not quite being enough to put it down for the count. Zhaag, with a tremendous heaving of muscle, rips apart the webbing constricting him and takes a step forwards, ready for battle again. Strangely, Kalezin's beguiling magic seems to have no effect on its target, which doesn't even notice the arcane attack.

As the first of their number is cut down, the remaining spiders seem to enter some sort of frenzy, abandoning their cautious demeanors entirely. The injured spider Caerwyn shot charges at him at full speed, leaping and biting through the half-Elf's armour with enough force to inflict some damage, though the Inquisitor doesn't seem to be affected by the poison that goes along with it. The other remaining smaller spiders throw themselves at Zhaag, though their frenzied efforts to sink their fangs into him is unsuccessful, while the two larger spiders race at Gideon. Sensing an opportunity the Magus manages to slice at one of the creatures as it advances, wounding it. The injured spider is unable to press the attack, writhing in agony, but the other is much more effective and delivers its poisonous bite to the Magus' tree-like leg, slightly sapping his strength.


Caerwyn hits S2, but doesn't quite manage to kill it. In response, S2 moves adjacent to him and bites him for 4 damage. Caerwyn passes his save against the spider's poison, shrugging it off.

Gideon kills S1, and his AOO hits BS2 for decent damage as it advances. S3 and S4 5-foot-step into combat with Zhaag, but both attacks miss horribly.

Kalezin's Hex has no effect whatsoever on his target. Mental magic just doesn't seem to be working on these creatures.

BS2 misses Gideon with its attack but BS1 manages to land a hit for 5 Damage, and Gideon flubs his Fort save. Take 1 point of Strength damage, and please make another Fort save during your next action to see if he can avoid the ongoing effects.

That is it for Round 2. Round 3 begins now.


Map:

http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/SpiderFight3_zpsbd011106.png

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

"By the Spire!"

Kalezin briefly swears in Kellish as the arachnids seem not to have the mental capacity to be affected by his powers. It was time for more direct measures.

Kalezin draws from the vestiges of the Spirits of Pain inside him, gathering their agony and hostility. Then, with a might scream, he directs their pain into the psyche of one of the big spiders.

Ear Piercing Scream into BS1 (1d6 dmg and dazed for one round, save for half dmg and no daze). If it is not alive by the time Kalezin acts, then BS2

[Miraqariftsky]

Two wolvish spiders leap upon Zhaag, their frenzied fangs slashing and snapping. He reels back, catching one on his warscythe's haft and hurling it back.

The other slams and skitters uselessly on his mail. The Slasher grimaces down at the spider's gullet, slips one gauntleted fist under it and backhands it away.

He takes a steady, measured backstep, then brings his warscythe slashing down on the thing before it could recover.




Fiiiiiiiive-foot step. Yeah. I'll take one of those backwards. Hack at S4 or S3, whichever's still alive by the time Zhaag acts.

Power Attack, dagnabbit!

[roll0]
[roll1]

AC 18/19 HP 24/24

[Athaleon]

Pain shoots through Gideon's leg as the spider injects his venom. Right where the damn wolf had mauled it, what were the odds? Fighting desperately, he unleashes another flurry of blows as the spiders push him back.


Fort save: [roll0]

5' step diagonally up and to the right.

Spell Combat / Spellstrike routine, this time with a Frostbite. His first attack will be against BS2, if it dies he will put the other attack + Frostbite into BS1.

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Frostbite Damage: [roll5] Nonlethal cold damage, target is fatigued with no save.

Edit: Nope, the dice gods have ruled that Gideon shall be incompetent this round.

[Moranica]

Paiku and Moro realise this fight shouldn't last much longer. So they wait, readying strikes, should the spiders break through the front line.

[Ancient Hippo]

Grimacing from pain, Caerwyn manages to dislodge the spider from his flesh, revealing two small holes where the spider's fangs had penetrated his armour. He instinctively takes a step away from the spider and loads another bolt on his crossbow.

The spider is near, and he has no time to aim properly before the archanid can attack again, so he trusts his instincts and fires a hasty shot, made even more difficult by the target's small size.


HP: 13/17

Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

[DaedalusMkV]

Kalezin's magically-backed shriek tears at his target, ears or no ears, and it stumbles back and twitches in agony. Meanwhile, Zhaag's brutal scythe-chop slices his target nearly in half, three legs and a good portion of the spider's thorax falling away from the rest of the creature in a spray of ichor. Unfortunately, Gideon's series of strikes is less successful, his target dodging out of the way of attacks slowed by the poison already coursing through the Magus' veins. Caerwyn's bolt flies slightly off-target, wedging itself in the creature's swollen abdomen, wounding it non-critically. Paiku and Moro hold back, waiting for a change in the battle.

The remaining spiders continue their enraged attack. The smaller spider attacking Caerwyn scrabbles at him, attempting to gain enough leverage to bite through his armour again, but the Inquisitor dodges nimbly out of the way even as he reloads his crossbow to fire another shot. The other remaining small spider pursues Zhaag relentlessly, leaping at him and biting into his unprotected leg, though the raging Half-Orc's indomitable constitution shrugs off such a weak dose of poison with ease. The large spider still capable of acting follows after Gideon, but the Magus' striking blade manages to keep it from getting close enough for another bite.


S4 bites the dust. Nexus, I think your numbers are slightly off (did you forget to take into account the -1 on Attack rolls for being Large-sized?), but nowhere near off enough to prevent that attack from annihilating its target. Caerwyn's hit puts S2 near to out, but isn't quite enough to do the job. BS1 fails its Will Save, taking 2 Damage and being Dazed for this combat round.

S2 and BS2 both miss their attacks. S3 gets a bit lucky, and manages to hit Zhaag for 3 Damage. Zhaag handily passes his Fortitude save versus the poison.

Gideon takes 2 more Strength damage from the poison, having failed his Save. Please make another Fortitude save as part of your next action to see if Gideon can finally shrug it off.

That's it for Round 3. Round 4 begins now. Map is below.


http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/SpiderFight4_zps039d72a5.png

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin 's sweat is running in his forehead. Gideon seems to be in a bit of a trouble. He turns rather hastily to Paiku and communicates in gestures

"Insan Paiku, Gideon needs help! Can you not do anything?"

With that, he turns to the second gigantic horror menacing Gideon. He again casts his gaze Beyond the Veil, luring in the Spirits of Ill Luck and Misfortune. With soothing voices and supplications, he sets them upon the big spider. As they pass, in the Here, stones fall and twigs crack.

Evil Eye hex at BS2 for -2 at Attack Rolls for 6 rounds. Will save DC 15 for one round.

[Miraqariftsky]

Zhaag hopskips back, kicking
Away the spider that's clinging
To his thick thews, vainly biting
Then sees his embattled companion reeling
The massive halforc sidesteps that way, a-slashing
Bringing his warscythe cutting across the beast a-chittering


Trusting Paiku and Moro to take care of the smaller one.
Five-footer thattaway towards Gideon.

6 Rage Str + 1 Enlarged Str + 2 BAB + 2 Flank - 1 PA - 1 Size = +8
10 Str + 3 PA
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Ancient Hippo]

Though gravely wounded, the spider continues it's assault, and Caerwyn can't help but wonder from where the spider's tenacity comes from. After all, one bolt can drop a man or a deer, but this spider has taken two and is still up! "Truly, bards will write grandiose epics about this merciless duel, He thinks to himself, though he does not know wether they would be about the brave spider who fought to the bitter end, or the fool who repeatly fails to dispose of a small spider...


HP 13/17

Same thing as last round, 5ft backwards and shoot the spider.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Athaleon]

Gideon continues to fall back, gritting his teeth and savagely hacking at the spiders even as the strength begins to ebb from his limbs.


Fortitude: [roll0]

Same attack routine as last round, hitting BS2 first. The Frostbite spell should still be held in his weapon since he missed with its attack.

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Frostbite Damage: [roll5] Nonlethal Cold damage, affected target is fatigued (no save) until its damage is healed.

[Moranica]

Paiku moves quickly, signaling Moro to follow. She moves next to him, making sure to keep Moro between herself and the spiders.

Unfortunatly, it takes her all round to get to Gideon.

[DaedalusMkV]

Once again, Zhaag's oversized war-scythe is more than a match for even the larger spider, sinking deep into the creature's abdomen and pinning it momentarily to the ground. Its legs scrabble for purchase for a moment before it curls into a ball, dying. Gideon, despite the poison sapping his strength, takes the opportunity to slash at the other spider, cutting it down in a flurry of magically-enhanced blows that leave little but a withered husk. Kalezin, his initial target now dead on the ground, redirects his hex to the smaller spider still pursuing Zhaag, and the curse unbalances the creature enough that it simply can't coordinate itself to land another bite. Caerwyn, unfortunately, is not so lucky, his snap shot deftly dodged by the smaller arachnid still relentlessly attacking him. The spider's follow-up is much more effective, landing only a glancing injury but managing to inject its own poison.


Both big spiders go down, so I took the liberty of redirecting Kalezin's curse to a still functional target. Caerwyn's attack misses.

S3 misses Zhaag badly, while S2 manages to land a hit on Caerwyn who takes a whopping 1 Damage. Unfortunately, the Inquisitor fails his Fort save and takes 2 points of Strength damage from the spider's poison.

Gideon, failing his Fort save yet again, takes an additional 1 point of Strength damage.

Please, both Ancient Hippo and Athaleon make additional Fortitude saves during your actions to try and resist the poison.


Map:

http://i416.photobucket.com/albums/pp244/DaedalusV2/SpiderFight4_zps321fa8cb.png

[Athaleon]

Gideon's strength continues to be sapped by the spider's poison, and the fiery pain blocked out all other sensation, but he still knew that he was better off ending the fight sooner than later. Gritting his teeth, he grips his scimitar in both hands and charges at the spider harrying Caerwyn.


Fortitude: [roll0]

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[ProudGrognard]

Kalezin

Kalezin is still talking furiously beneath his breath, a string of strange syllables that make no sense. Beyond the Veil, his implorations keep the spirits of unluck pursuing the spider.

Within this stream of enchantment, he adds a new weave, luring even more spirits to pursue the other spider left.

Using Cackle as a move action to keep the spider under Evil Eye. Casting Evil eye for a -2 AC at the other spider.

[Miraqariftsky]

Hearing the skittering behind
Zhaag whirls about, ichor flying
Fangs fail on mail, biting on a boulder's bind
Snorting with contempt, he finishes the beast with a vicious stabbing


6 Rage Str + 1 Enlarged Str + 2 BAB - 1 PA - 1 Size = +7
10 Str + 3 PA
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Moranica]

Paiku is about to start her spell casting when Gideon suddenly charges away. She follows, but again her slow speed barely let's her keep up.

Moro follows.

The incompetent healer follows. :smallbiggrin: