Lost Mine of Phandelver (IC)

[Arjen the Red]

http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090117220834/forgottenrealms/images/thumb/1/19/Neverwinter_afternoon.jpg/300px-Neverwinter_afternoon.jpg


A Journey to Neverwinter


More than five hundred years ago, clans of dwarves and gnomes made an agreement known as Phandelver's Pact, by which they would share a rich mine in a wondrous cavern known as Wave Echo Cave. In addition to its vast mineral wealth it was quickly learned that the cave had immense magical power contained within its walls. Soon wizards from the surrounding areas arrived to the cave and worked with the gnomes to channel that energy creating what was known as the Forge of Spells. The nearby human town of Phandalin bustled as a market place for the sale of the rich minerals, crafts, and magical items that flowed out of the cave. But then darkness swept the region. A massive tribe of orc swept through the North and laid waste to all in their path.

Quickly the orc learned of the Forge of Spells and along with a number of evilmercenary wizards assaulted the cave. The human wizards fought along with their dwarf and gnome allies to defend the Forge of Spells. Over the course of a ten-day a mighty battle ensued taking the lives of almost all involved. The spell battle raged between the opposing wizards eventually lead to the destruction of the cave and its entrance. The location of Wave Echo Cave was lost.

Two hundred years ago the first tomes mentioning Wave Echo Cave surfaced in the Mage University's library in Neverwinter. Soon, the rumors spread and opportunists, lured by the promise of wealth and riches (magical and not) searched the hills around Phandalin for the entrance to the cave. The search continued for a century with no progress.

In 1479, the Year of the Ageless One, the entrance to Wave Echo Cave was finally found by three dwarves brothers who had opened a smithy in the now resettled frontier town of Phandelin. The eldest brother, Gundren Rockseeker, has announced publicly his intent to reopen the mine.

It is now the 15th of Firerule 1480. Each of you have a past relationship with Gundren and have recently been summoned to meet him in Neverwinter. Your journey begins there at the foot of the famous Sleeping Dragon bridge.

For your first post, describe a bit about where you are from and how you know Gundren. You may also have relationships with one of the others in the party.

[Razorstorm]

Omar

The young man peaked surreptitiously around the corner of the building. The Sleeping Dragon Bridge was right there. He looked out around the square, checking for any familiar faces. No Ravens. Samuel might well have some of the crew on his tail. They probably have no idea why. He probably made up some bull**** about him snitching on the crew. He really didn't want a fight. They were his friends. He just needed to get the hell out of town.

That's where Gundren came into the picture. Bron had told him about Gundren making a grand speech about reopening some mine that he and his brothers had found. Omar needed to get out of town, and Gundren was his ticket.

With a scurry he was across the way, invisible in a surge of the crowd. He got to the heavy door and slipped inside...

[RossN]

Aelar Siannodel

A slender figure in dark, his or her face concealed beneath a hood slipped through the others at the bridge, a pair of keen green eyes scanning the crowd. Aelar was more familiar with human cities than most of his kind but as much as he thrilled to the excitement, the opportunity and the danger of towns part of the Wood Elf still longed for the forests.

Still if he had stayed there he not only would never have had a lot of coins slip through his fingers he would never have met the Dwarf Gundren Rockseeker. It was the smith who had helped reshoe that horse he had... borrowed... during a hurried flight two winters back and Aelar was still grateful. Hence his presence here instead of lightening a merchant's purse somewhere. Though hopefully there would be more opportunity to this mining business than simply repaying a favour. A friend is a friend but gold was gold and as usual Aelar had little of the later.

As he neared his destination he saw the door ahead of him closing. Surprised Aelar followed close behind and after a moment's hesitation opened it himself and followed whoever had gone ahead. "Gundren?"

[Felhammer]

ANDER WINDRIVER

The confident scion of nobility looks out across the city and smiles, "I shall miss thee, oh Jewel of the North, you have been kind to me and my family but my heart now belongs to Phandalin. I shall venture forth and civilize that frontier settlement and by doing so return the honor and nobility to the Windriver name." The tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed, fair-skinned fighter walks about half way across the infamous Sleeping Dragon Bridge and peers down over the side at the Neverwinter River that gentle flows beneath his feet. "I will miss the bridges... You, most of all dear Sleeping Dragon. You are indeed a sight to behold." The chainmail-wearing warrior flicks the greataxe that rests on his back, a soft cling noise drifts up to his ear. "There will be dangers on the road to my destiny. Thankfully, Windcleaver - my family's ancestral weapon - shall be right beside me, as he was with my father and his father before him. Together we shall change the world... Or at the very least, Phandalin. Hopefully that dwarf - Gundren Rockseeker - and his knightly companion, Sildar Hallwinter, are truthful in their desire to better that region."

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

After days of jumping from town to town, tavern to tavern, in the privacy of the late night inside an inn room, a letter reaches the elf, slid under the door. He looks back from his desk and already recognizes the seal from that distance, drawing whatever is close to a grin over his scarred face. "Looks like that dwarf is already trying to get me killed again..." as he opens the letter, reading its contents rather interested. After the "incident" with the orcs, Cemendur never quite fit in somewhere again for more than a month, abandoning his elven village to travel the world, managing to make few friends because of his distant attitude, but one of these few was Gundren, the dwarven smith that almost got him killed (twice) on his plans. The elf folds the letter back and waves it over the lit candle, burning it to ashes, then dons his leather mask, gathering his equipment and deep purple cape, setting off, dropping some coins over the bar and leaving without many words other than a low "Thank you..." to the innkeeper.

It was about time to leave that town, Cemendur had already begun to feel that itch that always drove him somewhere else, the dwarf's letter felt almost as an excuse to him. Cautiously crossing miles of roads with his one eye peeking out of the mask at his surroundings. He quickens his pace as he crosses the Sleeping Dragon bridge, rushing towards whatever the dwarf has in mind to take his thoughts out of the usual, to give him some rest.

[Arjen the Red]

Gundren looked up from his morning meal, a wide smile across his face, as Aelar and Omar walked into the room. "I see the first of you have finally arrived! It's good to see you both!" he said while grabbing his napkin to brush the bacon grease from his beard. He rose quickly from behind the table and made his way over to shake both of their hands. I'm sure you are both interested as to why the quick summons. I will get to the point quickly just as soon as the others arrive. I anticipate that Ander and Cemendur are close behind you and should arrive shortly. As for our good friend Allain Flint, one can never say! Hopefully not getting himself in trouble with the locals. Gundren motioned for them to sit around the table and poured each of them a pint of ale. "Make yourselves comfortable while we wait!" he bellowed as he lifted his glass to them both.

[RossN]

Aelar Siannodel

Aelar raised his hood revealing an androgynously attractive Elven face, light copper skin, silver blonde hair and green eyes. If he was disconcernted at the sight of Gundren sweeping a napkin across his greasey beard he did not show it. The Wood Elf smiled at the dwarf - and accepted an ale. He swiftly took a seat.

"You are looking well, well fed at least my friend." Aelar joked. "Your ale smells as good as ever, and I'm glad my family are don't know I like dwarven ale. They'd disown me. Again, I mean."

[Jon D]

Allain Flint

In the quiet of Gundren's bellow, voices can be heard from outside. Well, one loud voice anyway.

"What do ya mean ya need to check my weapons? What's that? I didn't hear ya, come down here and say that to my face!"

There's a sharp cry of pain before the door flies open and an overly armed halfling stomps in, lines of silver in his long hair, with the look of a veteran of many campaigns, a human behind him on the ground clutching his knee and moaning.

"Gundren!" Allain bellows, "where are...ah, please tell me there is more ale, dealing with that over sized lout makes me thirsty!"

As the halfling approaches the table he can be clearing heard snarling under his breath, "little man indeed!"

Stout is the type of halfling his is, fyi, not hi last name.

[Felhammer]

ANDER

The noble confidently strides into the tavern after saying his goodbyes to the town in which he has lived for much of his life. He saunters up to the bar, orders a pint. He surveys the common room, looking for his mark. After a few moments, he spots the dwarf. Ander walks over and raises a welcoming hand, "Hello, Gundren. Good to see you on this fine day. Your beard is far more full and and long than I imagined it to be. Truly you are a dwarf to be reckoned with." Ander checks the chair for dirt and grime. After a quick inspection, he swaps the chair with another from a nearby table. He takes a seat and smiles, "Well met new friends. I am Ander Windriver."

[Arjen the Red]

Allain Flint

In the quiet of Gundren's bellow, voices can be heard from outside. Well, one loud voice anyway.

"What do ya mean ya need to check my weapons? What's that? I didn't hear ya, come down here and say that to my face!"

There's a sharp cry of pain before the door flies open and an overly armed halfling stomps in, lines of silver in his long hair, with the look of a veteran of many campaigns, a human behind him on the ground clutching his knee and moaning.

"Gundren!" Allain bellows, "where are...ah, please tell me there is more ale, dealing with that over sized lout makes me thirsty!"

As the halfling approaches the table he can be clearing heard snarling under his breath, "little man indeed!"

Stout is the type of halfling his is, fyi, not hi last name.

Ha! My apologies. Stout certainly isn't a surname in this case!

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

The elf walks slowly across the town, analyzing his surroundings, checking the tavern's sign and nodding to himself as he found the place. He looks down at the wounded human on the ground and promptly ignores as he takes a wide step to avoid him, sighing as he knows he is now in *that* type of tavern. When inside, his eye travels the place and quickly meet Gundren and the others, then making his way towards the group. When close enough, he nods at the othes and lets out a weird short laugh from under his leather mask, "Gundren... Long time since you last tried to turn me into goblin lunch. What is the occasion?"

Cemendur is a tall slender elf, a long violet cloak covers most of his body, worn over one of his shoulders, and apart from it, he wears a finely crafted black leather armor, the same leather is used to make his mask, which shows only one eye socket and covers from chin to scalp, leaving his long black hair free to flow from the back of his head. His voice is rather sharp, and he is often more reserved and contained in social situations.

[Arjen the Red]

Gundren

The party is now gathered around a medium-size oaken table in the comfortable home of Gundren Rockseeker. After an hour so of everyone sharing stories of their recent journeys Gundren abruptly cuts off the conversations, standing to better assert himself.

"As many of you already know, my brothers and I look to have found the entrance to some mines south of here near the town of Phandalin. We're not entirely sure, but we have the feeling it may be Wave Echo Cave! I can't tell you anymore of that simply because we don't yet know anything more. We're planning a survey in a few days but I need more supplies delivered before we can get started. This is where you all come in. I need your help. The damn High Road has been a bit...iffy these days. I lost one caravan last week by some the hand of some damn Goblin raiders! Gundren slams his mug down on the table. "I'm sure I can trust the lot of you and would appreciate you escorting a cart of provisions for the survey to Phandalin. A good friend of mine, Elmar Barthen will await you at his shop and give you 10 gold pieces each for the task. I'd go with you but I have pressing business there tomorrow and the cart won't be ready to leave until the day after tomorrow. I'll be leaving shortly with my friend Sildar Hallwinter. Drop the cart at Barthen's Provisions and then meet Sildar and I at the Stonehill Inn."

Just as abruptly as he started, Gundren ends and make for the door. He thanks you all, motions to the table where a map lays there with the road to Phandalin drawn out, and then leaves. You are all a bit stunned that you were not given even the attempt to ask a question but quickly remember that this is typical Rockseeker behavior.

Your next day in Neverwinter is more or less uneventful. You pick up whatever supplies you need and bide your time for the cart to be ready.

The warm sun greets you on the morning of 17 Flamerule. The cart is ready and you begin your journey early as it will be roughly 50 miles down The High Road before you can turn East and make your away along the Triboar Trail for Phandalin.

You've spent the last few days following the High Road south from Neverwinter with nothing strange to speak of. The road has been quiet save for a few passing caravans in each direction. By midmorning on the 19th of Flamerule you reach the Triboar trail and begin the journey East. Most of you know this territory to be dangerous. Bandits and outlaws are common in these parts.

Please give me your marching order as well as who is driving the cart. What thoughts and conversations are you having as you make your way to Phandalin?




http://www.cartographersguild.com/attachments/finished-maps/37985d1314054261-neverwinter-maps-map_neverwinterarea.jpg

[Razorstorm]

Omar

As the caravan leaves town, Omar hides inside the cart, among the goods, not volunteering an explanation. Once the cart cleared the walls he poked his head out, surprising whoever is walking behind it, and hops out and takes his place in line behind the cart. He seems nervously distracted through the walk, looking around anxiously. He often tugs on the dark hair growing from his chin, a sorry excuse for a young-man's goatee, the thin mustache not connecting to the chin.

[Jon D]

Allain

Flint spent his last night in Neverwinter admiring the inside of a jail cell. Hauled before a magistrate at the crack of dawn, all charges were quickly dismissed, as it was deemed impossible that a halfling, even one as crude as Flint, could possibly have done the things he was charged with.

Since then, he placed himself on the top of the cart, crossbow cradled in his arms, waiting for something to break the tedious boredom.

[RossN]

Aelar Siannodel

Aelar had been happy to stay at the back of the caravan, theorethically as a rear guard but mostly because he expected danger to come from either the sides or the front and thought his place was anyplace less dangerous.

The Wood Elf grinned roguishly at Omar as the wizard emerged from the rear of the caravan. "In trouble friend?"

Aelar could relate. In his short (by Elven standards) life he had frequently had to escape towns in disguise or via rooftops or on one memorable occasion he prefered not to remember via a sewer. He had the bad luck to be handsome (or more accurately pretty - he was very androgynous looking and had the all the slenderness and grace of an Elf). It made life a lot more interesting but it made it difficult to pass without notice by town guards and other undesirables.

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

Cemendur courtiously nodded and lightly bowed his leave of the group's table as soon as Gundren was finished, spending the rest of the day drinking ale and expecting something to happen at that very tavern, later taking a room and spending the night quietly (though his room's candlelight never went out).

He was already outside the town's gate when the caravan went throught it, with crossed arms and a pose that just screamed "You're late", though no words really left his mask, he just nodded at each one passing him, joining the caravan after it, one sharp eye looking at the horizon on both sides occasionally.

[Razorstorm]

Aelar Siannodel
The Wood Elf grinned roguishly at Omar as the wizard emerged from the rear of the caravan. "In trouble friend?"


Omar ran a hand through his greasy and slightly too long dark hair, nervously. "Something like that, m'aam... Sir... Uh..." trying to quickly change the subject, "Maybe not. I'm not sure. But I think so. I'm hedging my bets." He looks the elf up and down, trying to be subtle, but failing to conceal the fact that this is the first time he has ever seen an Elf before.

[Felhammer]

ANDER

The human noble smiles at the dwarf, we shall see you soon then. After excusing himself from the table, Ander takes one last stroll around Neverwinter before nightfall. He admires the sights, breathes in the city air, then heads back to the tavern for a few more drinks before heading off to bed and a good night's rest. In the morn, Ander groggily readies himself. Obviously he drank a bit too much the day prior. His head pounds like it was smacked with a warhammer, "Remind me to never try and out drink a dwarf."

He makes his way to the city gate and finds himself to be the last to arrive, "I apologize for my tardiness my friends. The rooster's call and the sun's rays were not quite as potent on a man who had a bit too much ale the night prior..."

Ander splits his time walking beside the cart and riding inside but mostly, he walks. "'Tis a beautiful day, no? The open road, clear skies... What more can a man ask for? I ask you that friends? Obviously, nothing. For if a man could ask for more he would most assuredly be far too lucky for his own good." He turns his attention more specifically to the party members, "Tell me, friends, from where do you hail? Myself, I am from Neverwinter. My family has the rights to a small estate out in the country but... It was destroyed during the eruption. I have made it my life's duty to bring justice to the world. What of you copper elf? Are you a master marksman, seeking justice against the vile poachers who kill the game in your homeland? And of you, Cemendur, I noticed you were annoyed with the others in our fair party. Let me assure you these folk are of hardy stock. Good for travel. You have chanced upon a fine party to walk with. So please, turn that frown around and enjoy the day!" The noble lets out a loud chuckle, obviously enjoying what he considers to be a witty comment.

[RossN]

Aelar Siannodel


Omar ran a hand through his greasy and slightly too long dark hair, nervously. "Something like that, m'aam... Sir... Uh..." trying to quickly change the subject, "Maybe not. I'm not sure. But I think so. I'm hedging my bets." He looks the elf up and down, trying to be subtle, but failing to conceal the fact that this is the first time he has ever seen an Elf before.

For a second Aelar looked embarassed over the man's confusion but it passed very quickly. Even by Elf standards he did not look (or sound) all that masculine so he was very used to it from humans. Besides once in a blue moon it came in hand.

"Uh, Aelar will do. It's fine I won't pry - let's just say I've had to leave towns quickly before. Do you know our common friend long?"

The Wood Elf meant Gundred.

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

Cemendur, lost in thought, is startled when his name is mentioned by Sir Windriver and briefly looks around before turning to him and relaxing "Annoyed? Oh... My apologies, good sir, but you assume wrong. I might be anxious about the discoveries we have ahead of us, yes, but the presence of you fellows here doesn't diminish it in any way, I am sorry if I somehow made it look that way.", he bows his head lightly as he continues to walk, "And you do have a keen sight, sir, seeing a frown behind a thick leather mask is no simple task.", as he laughs jokingly.

"As for presentations, I'm sorry if mine was lacking, I'm usually not as formal as most I meet, but very well...", he clears his throat, "My name is Cemendur," (pronounced Kemendur) "... born and raised in the High Forest east of here, where I keep an small altar to the heroes of old Eaerlann with my brothers and I'm usually found there, unless Gundren here is somehow trying to get my head separated from my body!", the elf laughs a bit, tilting his head and shrugging while looking over ahead of the caravan, more relaxed. Then, slightly more serious again, "You, Sir Windriver, seem to know the location more than us. Give us a warning of anything we should know ahead of time, hmm?"

[Arjen the Red]

The 19th of Flamerule arrives and you have been on the Triboar Trail for the first half of the day. As you come around a bend, you slow to a stop as you notice two dead horses sprawled in the middle of the trail about 50 feet ahead of you, blocking the path. Each horse has numerous black fletched arrows sticking out of it. The thick woods press close to the trail here, with a steep embankment and dense thickets on either side. The sun is almost directly overhead and it is oddly quiet. The comforting sound of the crickets and chirping of birds is devoid now.

[Razorstorm]

Omar abruptly stops at the sight of the dead horses. "Whoa, hold up. Might be bandits," he whispered. He quietly slips into the bushes on the side of the road, slipping behind the cart, and horses, and his companions to not be easily seen if anyone was watching. He then moved up parallel to the road, but his eyes were not on the road, but rather in the bushes and trees, several feet off to the side.

[Arjen the Red]

Omar abruptly stops at the sight of the dead horses. "Whoa, hold up. Might be bandits," he whispered. He quietly slips into the bushes on the side of the road, slipping behind the cart, and horses, and his companions to not be easily seen if anyone was watching. He then moved up parallel to the road, but his eyes were not on the road, but rather in the bushes and trees, several feet off to the side.

Please show me on the map where you are moving to from the cart.

[Arjen the Red]

Would everyone please indicate in the battle map where they are relative to your cart. Thank you!

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

The elf breaks up any conversasion he might be having and goes ahead of the caravan, after a few cautious steps, he halts and looks around, then back at the group, checking everyone's positions. Then he goes slowly ahead, trying to get a look at the arrows from many steps back, maybe determining their kind.

Requested access for the map.

And Investigation check for the arrows (determine if regular, crude barbarian, elven, orc-made, etc.):
Investigation: [roll0]

[Arjen the Red]

Cemendur

The elf breaks up any conversasion he might be having and goes ahead of the caravan, after a few cautious steps, he halts and looks around, then back at the group, checking everyone's positions. Then he goes slowly ahead, trying to get a look at the arrows from many steps back, maybe determining their kind.

Requested access for the map.

And Investigation check for the arrows (determine if regular, crude barbarian, elven, orc-made, etc.):
Investigation: [roll0]



Sorry for the confusion! I had it set to private by mistake.

I opened the map up to anyone with a link now. Let me know if there is still an issue.

[Razorstorm]

Just set myself on the map. He started behind the cart, moved off into the foliage, then moved up along column S. If you need to stop him before he reaches that far, go right ahead and move me back.

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur is one step closer than Omar to the cart, in the middle of the road (I didn't manage to put the C there myself xD).

[Arjen the Red]

Cemendur is one step closer than Omar to the cart, in the middle of the road (I didn't manage to put the C there myself xD).


Were you able to access the map but not edit it? I put your marker there. I just want to make sure everyone has proper access.

[RossN]

Aelar, who had been to the rear of the cart slipped to the side and quietly entered the tree line, relying on his elven stealth to conceal him.

[Arjen the Red]

As you examine the dead horses from your vantage point you are almost certain that these are the horses that Gundren and Sildar rode off on a few days prior. You see multiple arrows in the horses. Judging from the number of flies present they have been dead for about a day.

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

After a quick look, Cemendur's posture loosens up a little as he stands up more, looking back at the others to check their positions and nodding, then going on ahead to the horses still with cautious steps. He takes a suspicious look around at the woods as he endures the stench to quickly examine the horses further for any items left behind.

Perception: [roll0]

[Arjen the Red]

Your suspicions are confirmed: these are the horses of Gundren and Sildar. Each horse was brought down with a flurry of arrows; 10-12 each, strewn across their neck and shoulder regions. The saddle bags of both horses have been ripped open and emptied. Nothing of any value remains. You then notice sounds and movement in the woods from both sides of the road.

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

The elf is suddenly startled, looking and both sides of the woods and waving his hand back at the caravan shouting "Arm yourselves!", taking one step back from the horses and donning his shield, unsheathing his sword with a sharp hiss as it gleams in the sunlight as he shouts looking at his sides with some anger in his voice "Show yourself, scum!"

[Arjen the Red]

The forest continues to rustle with the sound of approaching footsteps. Moments later you learn of the source of the sounds: a quartet of snarling, vile goblins emerges, two from each side. They're weapons are drawn and they descend upon Cemendur as if they had known he would be right there. This is clearly an ambush.

Please roll initiative.

[ShadowDragon]

Cemendur

Cemendur's violet cape swirls as he repositions himself to face the goblins ahead, gritting his teeth in determination and raising his shield against the incoming enemies.

Initiative: [roll0]

Two natural 1s in a row, reeeeally good... u.u

[RossN]

Aelar Siannodel

The Wood Elf rogue heard the noises too and he quickly reached for an arrow from his quiver, his fine senses tingling.

Initiative: [roll0]

[Razorstorm]

Omar tries to keep himself hidden off in the hedge, and clutches his wand in a sweaty palm, not breathing.

[roll0]

@Arjen - Am I hidden?

[Arjen the Red]

Ander: [roll0]
Allain: [roll1]

[Arjen the Red]

Omar tries to keep himself hidden off in the hedge, and clutches his wand in a sweaty palm, not breathing.

[roll0]

@Arjen - Am I hidden?

Yes, you are hidden. The goblins in their haste to rush to the horses do not see you in the woods at your distance.

[Arjen the Red]

Four vile and foul goblins descend down from the edges of the woods, weapons drawn. "Mirdautas vras!" one of them yells, as they prepare to attack.

It is a good day to kill!

[Albub]

Traveling the Neverwinter Woods, making his way North to his circle's home, Ander was diverted by a talk with a wounded wolf. Goblins were about, and they were hurting the forest's sons and daughters. The wolf's pack had been slain or taken by them. The wolf tried to fight, but their alpha had been too fearsome and the wolf was driven away.

He listened, and the forest told him the way. He would show the goblins that the forest was not helpless. That it was not theirs to take from.

As he approached an old trail, he saw that someone else had found the goblins first. He debated with himself, and made his decision. They were strangers, but the enemy of his enemy was his friend. If this proved true only until the goblins were dead, the forest would hide him from them. The forest provided for its own.

He stepped out of the woods and onto the trail, loosing his sling and loading it all on one motion. He whirled it over his head until it whistled with lethal potential, and as he came to a stop he let fly, the projectile buzzing towards the goblins

[Arjen the Red]

Traveling the Neverwinter Woods, making his way North to his circle's home, Ander was diverted by a talk with a wounded wolf. Goblins were about, and they were hurting the forest's sons and daughters. The wolf's pack had been slain or taken by them. The wolf tried to fight, but their alpha had been too fearsome and the wolf was driven away.

He listened, and the forest told him the way. He would show the goblins that the forest was not helpless. That it was not theirs to take from.

As he approached an old trail, he saw that someone else had found the goblins first. He debated with himself, and made his decision. They were strangers, but the enemy of his enemy was his friend. If this proved true only until the goblins were dead, the forest would hide him from them. The forest provided for its own.

He stepped out of the woods and onto the trail, loosing his sling and loading it all on one motion. He whirled it over his head until it whistled with lethal potential, and as he came to a stop he let fly, the projectile buzzing towards the goblins

I placed you randomly on the map. Change your position if you'd like and then go ahead and make your attack roll and damage as I have you first in INIT order.

[Arjen the Red]

Ander's move:

Move to N14, attack G1 with sling [roll0] damage [roll1][/QUOTE]

[Arjen the Red]

The Goblin looked up just in time from his charge to see the dart flying towards him. He lifted his shield up to his face as the dart lodged into the wood slowing his momentum just a bit. The charge continued.

The first goblin leapt over the head of the dead horse and slashed his scimitar across at Cemedur's chest.

1 damage

The second goblin, clearly angered by the dart in his shield, made a rushing attack at Ander. In his rage though, the goblin slipped ever so slightly and the blow missed wide.

From the back, the remaining two goblins had drawn their bows and loosed a pair of arrows. One hit its mark: right in the hindquarters of one of the dead horses. The other glanced off of Cemendur's left side.

1 damage. Your turn to retaliate!