Chapters [IC] (D&D 3.5)

[Null]

The great stone clock tower of Andrag towered over all other buildings in the grand yet crumbling city. Second in height only to the tallest watchtower build upon the castle, it had stood for almost a century. Ninety-nine years, 364 days, and some odd hours, in fact. Tomorrow there was to be a celebration to honour it's craftsmen, Elregar the elven architect.

The tower had witnessed many events in its near-century life. There was the bloody expansion of King Rhuugen, which the spanning empire was now named after. When the king returned from his campaign, he saw that his citizens had forsaken him. Forgoing the original plan of parading in the streets with bliss to honour the king's unification of the land, they instead set the city ablaze. In the chaos of it all, Rhuugen eventually found himself cornered by his subjects, and shortly there after found himself headless. It was then that the citizens began their parade. When the fires subsided and rebuilding began, the clock tower found itself unharmed.

The tower then saw the prince-yet-now-King Rhuuben come into reign two years after his disposed father, promising to right the many wrongs Rhuugen had wrought. His first promising idea was to set up a system where he did not hold absolute power. His first mistake was naming the nine barons who ruled over the expanded kingdom of Rhuugen as his balancing act. After several dozen years Rhuuben really had begun to make his kingdom a better place. Yet as with any member of politics, he would have his detractors. Eventually, someone somewhere decided he needed assassinating. After some magical convincing, Rhuuben climbed to the top of the clock tower and stepped off.

The current prince, Ben, was far too young to rule a kingdom. The baron Jeroz, whose region was of closest proximity to the great city of Andrag, was recalled from his services to rule over the original land of Rhuugen. Unsurprising to all, Prince Ben disappeared two days later. In the 16 years that followed, the city and the rest of Rhuugen fell deeper and deeper into corruption. There were two parts of the city now. There was castle, surrounded by a small neighborhood of the very-rich and their pleasure businesses with the inner walls protecting them from the class of poor folk and their businesses, better known as the rest of the city. Many guilds of infamy sprang up overnight, and if one was not in sight of a city guard -which was usually due to budget constraints that had lasted 16 years- he had better watch his back.

Elregar the elven architect was never a very good architect in fact. In fact, his gift was forgery. This should have been apparent when he presented his degree in architecture and it was titled "The School of Buildin' Things" yet this title looks much more legitimate when written in draconic. It was to his surprise more than anyone else that the tower had stood for nearly a century.

~~

It was a cool and windless night. It was long passed the rarely enforced curfew, though few still walked the streets. Owls could be heard singing their hellos in the nearby forest. In the square below the great clock tower of Andrag stood many smaller buildings. Most were closed storefronts of a sort, one was a private clubhouse. There were also a handful of merchant stalls placed in circular fashion around the square.

A figure staggered out of an open door way. Wrapped in brown robes and with hands bound behind it, it staggered out into the square and fell into a chilly puddle. The silhouette of the tower loomed overhead. It was at this particular time that the great clock tower of Andrag had decided it had seen enough. Aided by the shoddy craftsmen ship of Elregar, with a lot of groaning and a bit of creaking and one loud crack, the face of the clock broke apart and tumbled towards the ground. In between its path to the ground cowered the figure in brown robes. The figure was out of time.

Here to witness the events of the falling clock were four would-be heroes. Each one stood at the mouth of four separate entrances to the square.

Reflex save if anyone of you would like to try to save the figure.
Also please detail what lead you to being in this situation so late at night in your opening post.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn finds himself aimlessly pacing the streets, his mind too troubled to let him trance. Fighting evil's comparatively easy, Maldwyn thinks. It's the living in between the fighting that's the difficult part. And so he has come here to Andrag in the hope of finding a church of Hieroneous, seeking their clerics' insight into the problem of how to be an elven paladin while living among non-elves. But in this city, disappointingly, the only insight he seems likely to find is into a particularly sordid variety of the criminal mind.

Maldwyn knows his limits, and realizes that as much as he might like to launch a one-elf crusade against the city's corruption, it's simply not feasible. But the same force that drove him to take up the mantle of a paladin also cries out for him to do justice in this city. And so it is on this still night that Maldwyn cannot rest, with idealism and pragmatism using his head as a battleground.

He barely notes the figure tripping into the square, but suddenly connects it with disaster the instant he hears the sounds of rupture from the clock tower. For once wishing he was more like the rest of his elven kindred, he springs forward, calling upon Hieroneous' grace.

Rolling Reflex in OOC thread

[hustlertwo]

Havelin groggily makes his way through the city, still unfamiliar with all the narrow alleyways even in the daytime. He had only been here a few short weeks, having decided to try his luck working as an independent healer. Havelin, Healer for Hire had been a modest success so far, but why did so many people feel the need to get mugged and beaten in the middle of the night? Downright inconsiderate, is what it is.

As the cleric groused internally on his way to answer the distressed Sending that had awoken him, he spied the crumbling tower and the pair of figures attempting to avoid calamity. If needed he will try to pull the bound man clear; if not he will approach both quickly once the dust has settled and shout to them.

Ho there, are you lads all right? Anyone injured?

[dextercorvia]

Slate ducks into the shadows at the sight of all these people nearby. Andrag was much more dangerous than Perth Crainn ever was. He jumps from his hiding place at the horrible noise of the collapsing clockface. It could be a trap! The thought cuts through his mind as his body cuts through the courtyard. Slate can't help himself -- he has to try to save the man.


Reflex Save [roll0]

[Null]

The paladin barrels forward without falter. Whether through divine empowerment or sheer length of leg, he outpaces the gnome. He scoops the figure up mid-stride and the two come to a roll as the clock faces smashes behind them.

With his hood fallen back, the man looks at Maldyn with fear and bewilderment in his sapphire-hued eyes. He is young with a patchwork shaven head and an apple sized welt below his eye. Tiny lacerations cover the rest of his face.

"Please, you must help me," he begs while shaking, gesturing to his bound together hands.

[hustlertwo]

Havelin pulls out one of his javelins and uses it to split the man's bindings.

What happened?

[dextercorvia]

Slate grows wary of a setup, "Help you with what exactly?" He takes a half step back toward the alley he came from, just in case.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn tries to speak calmingly. "I'll help you if I can," he says, "but first let's put some distance between ourselves and this none-too-sturdy tower. Then you can tell me what you need," and he helps the young man to his feet.

He gives a quick nod of thanks to Havelin for the sundering of the bonds, and asks him, "Sir, do you know anywhere safe nearby? I'm unfamiliar with the city."

[hustlertwo]

Well, my clinic isn't exactly spacious, but we could head there. Aside from the danger, from what I have found about this city is it's unwise to hang around if anything happens. They'll want to blame someone for this, and they won't care if they're guilty or not.

Assuming they all go with it, leads the group to a two-room shack on the outskirts of town, fitted with a hand-painted sign above the door that said Havelin, Healer for Hore

Yeah, I know, apparently you need to pay the artist after they make the sign, not before.

They all squeeze around a small table, and Havelin looks at the man formerly in fetters.

Okay. Talk.

[dextercorvia]

Slate nods and agrees to go. He's torn between cowardice and curiosity, but these people seem more honest than the average person he's encountered here, so curiosity wins. He's relieved that it is a healer's place they are headed too. Only the blackest of hearts would dare to masquerade as a healer, and that seems like more trouble than one gnome's life or purse are worth.

He looks around the table at the four strangers and wonders if this is how an adventure begins. Mother always said you couldn't predict an adventure, they just kind of happen.

[Tajerio]

"No need to be quite so hasty," Maldwyn says to Havelin. "None of us know each other's names, and it'll be difficult to carry on a proper conversation if that continues. Also, I would like to treat any injuries this young man may have before we ask him to recall anything traumatic."

Maldwyn is not naive, however, and he casts detect evil to see if any of these gentlemen is someone of whom he ought to be suspicious (assuming the laws of the city allow such casting).

[Null]

The man looks at Slate warily as he is freed and helped to his feet. He begins to gently rub his wrists where the rope was tied, almost raw with blood at this point.

"I don't... I don't know. I mean," he stammers a bit and looks up again, "I know they're people. Men or elves or that sort. Don't know what they call themselves though. There's always been so much secrecy and solitude since they took me oh, oh I must o' been tall as you when that happened," he gestures to Slate.

Hearing Maldwyn, he loos around at the broken clock pieces everywhere. "Am I unfortunate for almost being crushed by a clock or fortunate for you being here when it fell?" He looks back at the building from where he came and stares for a bit. Hearing Havelin talk of his clinic seems to snap him out of it.

"Absolutely we must leave. The last thing I need is to trade one cell for another." The clinic is a short distance walk from the clock tower. Bells begin to toll in the distance, from shouts heard far off it seems guards would be on their way to investigate. There are eyes on the party from all around them as they walk. People all throughout this area of the city have been awoken by the commotion and peer through their windows and sit on their balconies, watching the group. The man feverantly glances in every direction, undecided on watching the people all around or the path behind them.

A ragged and bearded man sits slumped against Havelin's shack, a local drunkard Havelin has become all to well acquainted with in recent time. As the group files into the shack, the man begins pacing around circles. In between his pacing he will occasionally look through cracks to watch outside. It's obvious he hears what is being said, but he seems to prefer to ignore the current conversation. "Please we can't be stayin' here long right? I believe a man even as malnourished as me could punch right through the wall! In fact we shouldn't even be in this city right now. We shouldn't have stopped, this wasn't smart." He moves to the door and begins to open it.

OOC Maldwyn
He detects no evil.

[J-H]

Bucca
The halfling, at eye level with the others when they're sitting at the table, breaks his silence. "I'm Bucca of the Tooks - not that you've heard of them here. Who are you, and why were you a captive? You're in a hurry to get away, surely you can spare a minute for some words if it gets you help."

[hustlertwo]

Havelin looks at Maldwyn. Man, you going to come into my shop and offer to do the healing? Harsh.

He then looks at the skinny new acquaintance.

Leave the entire city? I am not saying no, but I need to hear a bit more about your story to justify it. Why were you taken, and what makes you think they are looking for you even in a place as obscure as this?

[Null]

He lays his hand against the door and pauses. His face contorts in thought as he ponders his two options. Flee while he's ahead, and try to sneak out? Or stay with his armed friends? Strength in numbers, he thinks as he slumps his head against the door and sighs. "I'm wasting away here, perhaps some food and drink, and then story time?" He continues on as he begins to rummage through Havelin's wares. "I'm afraid you may not find it a very interesting story. And I don't even remember a lot of it," finding a skin of water, he takes a sniff the a sip. Satisfied, he takes a large gulp and turns to the party at the table and leans against a counter.

"They took me at a very young age. I couldn't have been older than five. I don't remember much about before, but it was a very large house and many people lived there. Everyone was friendly to me. Any who, one night there's a lot of clattering and shouting, and I'm being rushed out by a man I've never met. He's stern, but nice to me as well. I'm scared and confused at this point, and being young and impressionable I cooperate with the man without thinking twice about it. He was nice after all, how could bad men be nice?

"Once we're out of the house, I get a sack thrown over my head and now I'm getting carried. I must of begun to put up a fight, next thing I know there's a searing pain in my head and I'm in and out of consciousness," he points to a small dent in his scalp and pats his head, "still there after years. I come to some time later and I'm in another house. A lot like the first, very nice, but smaller and there were no windows. None that I could find, and believe me I searched the whole damned thing for basically my entire life. I was rarely alone in there. Usually some sort of silent guard. They wouldn't say a word to me unless I started, and even then would only answer basic questions." By now he had drained the water skin and laid it on the table, looking to Havelin for more.

"They gave me books. Lots and lots of books. And not the fun kind of books about dragons and heroes, no, all history, ancient and recent. Whatever they wanted me for, they wanted me educated. About once a week if I were to guess, a man, the one who lead me from my home, actually, would dismiss the guard and sit and chat with me. Sometimes he'd quiz me on my readings that week, other times we'd play games. Others we would wax poetry and sometimes he would just sit there, staring at me all monk-like. He was still never mean to me, but I knew now he was not a good man. Whether he was their leader or just another pawn, good man he was not."

He paces around the room again, once more looking through the cracks in the walls. "And that's well, the basics of everythin'. There are entire sections of my memory missing though. One moment I'd be reading a book, the next I'd be a head taller with scruff on my chin staring at a wall. This happened about six times if I remember right. I'm not sure if magic is suppressing it or if they beat it out of me. Hell maybe it's my own psychology protecting me from something evil. Oh damned my manners," he turns and straightens up, "they called me Jamen," giving a slight bow, "surname unknown." He smiles.

[hustlertwo]

Havelin fishes out some slightly stale bread to go with the water. Right...well, I am convinced. Don't know about the rest of you lot, but I agree this fellow cannot stay in the city. Whatever they went to such extreme time and effort to do this for, it has to be big. Like, politics big. What say we grab some supplies and prepare to lay low for a couple days until this is all sorted out? Perhaps someone knows a place to go that is well out of town?

Oh, and I am Havelin, but I suppose the sign gave it away. Havelin Cathar, and I will help however I can.

Already equipped for the perils of his late-night healing mission, Havelin takes a moment to collect some rations and give the others a chance to determine if they are coming along.

[dextercorvia]

"Call me Slate. I've no reason to stick around this city any longer. I don't know any places off hand, but I'm pretty good at finding hidey holes." Slate didn't know why his contact didn't show tonight, but he'd have to try some other lead to find Basalt. In the mean time, this sounded interesting and helping this guy was the right thing to do.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn shakes Jamen's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Jamen, and you, Havelin, Slate, and Bucca. My name is Maldwyn. Jamen, I'm no detective and no intriguer, so I can offer little to you besides protection. But it seems a great wrong has been done you, and by Hieroneous, you'll find no one more committed to righting it." Maldwyn notices that his voice became a bit thunderous and declamatory towards the end, and he smiles self-deprecatingly. "Forgive a paladin his blast of righteous speech, will you, friends? And Havelin, I meant no offense--I merely meant to convey that Jamen ought to receive medical attention, not that you were incapable of giving it to him. I myself can only keep a man from death, not make him better."

He frowns and continues. "Unfortunately, there is no one I know and trust well enough with whom to seek shelter nearer than the dwarves in the mountains. But you are right. It would not be prudent to linger here, in this city where no one has friends but everyone has enemies."

Inwardly, Maldwyn is pleased that this turn of events has given him some concrete anti-evil, pro-good action to take, and sends a silent prayer of thanks winging Hieroneous' way.

[Null]

He tears the bread into pieces, chewing silently for several moments. "Two hours ago I never could have imagined there'd be people willing to risk life and limb for me just after meeting. I..." he stammers and sounds a bit choked, "Thank you. Forever, thank you, my friends. Perhaps when this is all over, I can repay you somehow. Once I've become someone worth being."

He sits solemnly for a bit, finishing his bread and watching the party gather their equipment. His eyes are bright with wonder as he thinks of the things they might encounter on their journey. Suddenly they widen, and his mouth hangs slightly agape with a quiver. The skin of his face goes taut. Everyone in the shack has just heard a light thump on the roof, followedby a creaking.

Holding his breath, Jamen moves to one of the cracks. Whispering, "Oh Gods..." He slowly backs away and bumps the table, nearly falling. He slumps into a chair and puts his face in his hands. "They've found us. There must be close to a dozen outside. I can't let them take me back. I can't..." He looks up to the heroes and pleads, "End this. Me. Run a knife across my neck, anything. If I'm dead they'll leave you be. I can't go back to a caged life."

Jamen lunges towards Maldwyn and puts his shaking hands on his shoulders. He sounds hysterical now. "I was supposed to be crushed an free of this life! You stole my death. Do the clock's job and give it back!

[Tajerio]

I won't let you go back to a tortured life, Maldwyn promises Jamen. But know this too--I'm damned hard to kill, and I'm not going to abandon a man to rogues creeping in the night. So see how things go before resigning yourself to death. He looks at the others in the room while drawing his greataxe from its leather carrying case on his back. Will you stand with me if those sounds prove to be this man's enemies? And not to cast any doubt on your reckoning, Jamen, but can any of you tell how many there actually are?

[dextercorvia]

Slate ***** his ear toward the ceiling, straining to hear what the other man seems to have. He whispers, "I have a spell that might distract them, and buy us enough time to get out of here. Does your place have another door?"

[roll0] Listen check

[Null]

A high-strung voice calls from outside, "Send our man out. You lot stay inside. Everyone listens, everyone gets to go home tonight. Else we'll burn you out. Best decide quickly or the roasting starts."

Despite the threat, Jamen seems to have picked up some of Maldwyn's resolve. "I -well- I only saw three. But it's dark, an, and the crack is small. They wouldn't come to show force with only three. Surely we're surrounded, and four walls of the shack makes twelve... Ahem," he coughs a bit and his eyes dart to each person in the room. "I'm far too panicked to be relied upon at the moment! My fate has long been in your hands, and you seem to be doing much better with it then I've ever managed, so I'm just going to stand over here and have a crisis now." He moves under the doorway of the two rooms and grips the sides tightly, breathing very slow and deep.

Edit: Slate
He can hear footsteps all around the shack, and a few sounds of metal being released from a scabbard. The roof creaks no more, but the sound of a bowstring being drawn is heard after the man outside finishes his threat.

[hustlertwo]

No back door, no, but....

Havelin goes to the rear of the shack.

Ah, what the heck, they're going to burn it down anyhow.

He brandishes his flail, and says a blessing for the group, filling them with power.

I figure these walls are so thin we can charge or smash our way right through them. Since there's no actual door back here, I suspect it will kinda take them by surprise. Whenever you're ready with your spell, Slate.

The blessing is the spell Bless, specifically. Everyone gets a +1 morale bonus to attack rolls for 2 minutes, and a boost to Fear saves, on the off-chance that matters.

[J-H]

Bucca
Bucca draws a flask of acid, swapping his javelin to his off hand. "I'm ready when you are."

[dextercorvia]

Slate wonders aloud, "You know they are going to burn the place either way. They don't seem like the type to leave witnesses."

Seeing, Havelin with his flail lifted, "Okay, but we aren't going out the back. It will take too much time to go through the wall and they'll be waiting for us. Hit the wall a couple of times to make it sound like we broke through. Then I'll cast a spell that makes it sound like we are running down the alley. We'll wait a few seconds till they follow and make a break for it out the front. Sound like a plan?"

Looking at the man having a quiet fit in between the two rooms, Slate realizes he'll need some help. "Paladin, can you make sure Jamen stays with us?"

[hustlertwo]

That's the spell you had in mind? No need for magic to sell this notion. Get ready to run when the opening comes.

Havelin smashes into the wall until it caves in, then calls out to the others at a volume sure to be overheard.

We're through, let's get out before they know what happened.

Havelin will look outside to see how many might be congregated in the rear before following the others out the front.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn puts a hand on Jamen's shoulder. Be ready to have your crisis on the move. We're going to have to exit in a hurry, but don't worry, I'll be right with you. He feels faintly resentful at having to nursemaid this young man, but angrily squashes the sentiment. The strong must protect the weak, and not scorn them for needing protection, he thinks, silently rebuking himself.

He turns to the rest of the room as Havelin smashes the wall. I'll take the lead, but I'm going to stand and fight if their numbers aren't overwhelming. And with that, the paladin pulls Jamen along behind him and goes through the front door.

[dextercorvia]

Slate grabs a bit of wax from the candle on the table and makes a knocking sound in his throat. He quickly spits in his hand and rolls the wax into a ball and blows on it. The wax disappears as the sound of muffled boots moves through the opening that Havelin just created.

He listens to see if anyone takes the bait.

taking 10 for a 16

[Null]

Upon exiting the shack, Maldwyn and Jamen see a man 20 feet ahead of them, with a torch burning in the dirt to his side. The man is clad in dark robes with black boots and gloves. A metal helmet rests on his head and a cloth covers his face from the bridge of his nose and down. From the bulkiness and hard cut form under the robes, it would appear he is heavily armored. With a long sword at the ready, he holds a very large shield in front of him. Curiously, the shield has the crest of the Rhuugen kingdom emblazoned on its front -a snarling wolf with a crown.

To the shack's side is a man almost at full-sprint. He skids to a halt upon spotting the two exiting men and shouts, "The front! The front!" At 25 feet of distance, he is dressed the same as the first but without the helmet. His smaller form also suggests less armor. He spins a mace in one hand and grips a dagger in the other.

Slate at first hears many footfalls going towards the back. When the one man shouts, it sounds as if half of them turned back to go to the front.

[J-H]

Bucca
Bucca follows Maldwyn out of the shack, holding his acid flask menacingly.


Init [roll0]

[hustlertwo]

Havelin will leave the shack last, watching to see if any enemies try to come behind them using the new door he created.

Now would be a good time for another spell, magic man.

[hustlertwo]

Havelin moves to challenge the heavily armored target with a flail strike to sweep him off his feet.

[Null]

Trying to anticipate Havelin's strike, the man raises up his shield and braces against it. Thus, you can imagine his surprise when he finds himself momentarily airborne, grunting as his side makes acquaintance with the dirt. He scrambles about and manages to get his feet back underneath him just in time to see Havelin swinging the flail in a wide arc. The head of the flail crushes into the man's chest and he slumps backward into the ground, unconscious or lifeless.

"Richten!" The akimbo man to the side shouts.

[J-H]

Bucca
Bucca hefts his vial of acid, ready to throw it if the other enemy makes a hostile move.


Readied action.

Ranged touch attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1] acid

[Null]

Enraged, the akimbo man lunges towards the group. He jumps as acid splashes into the ground in front of him, but a bit covers his legs and he cries out as his skin starts to burn. Now, bearing down on Slate, he spins and swings his mace on path with the gnome's head. Slate -clever as he his- knew full well this attack would be meant for him as soon as the man charged. He ducks lazily, and the mace breaks another hole in the shack.

"Keep quiet man!" The drunkard yells, and rolls back over to sleep.

[dextercorvia]

Slate continues his roll while the man is off balance, trying to put some distance between them. As he dodges around to the other side of the mace wielding maniac, he comes up with a wand in his hand. "Attack the short unarmed guy? So the other guy was the brains, huh?" Fzzt! a bolt of dark energy hurtles toward Mr. Mace


Tumbling to S10 to hopefully avoid the AoO. [roll0]
Using Wand of Ray of Enfeeblement Ranged Attack [roll1]
Penalty [roll2]

[Null]

Jamen pushes past Maldwyn and heads straight for Havelin and the downed man. He clumsily scoops up the long sword and turns to face the other enemy. The footfalls from behind the shack are growing louder.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn moves up to challenge the dual-wielding man, then lunges to yank him off balance with his arm, hoping to continue through into smashing the man with his axe.

Maldwyn's using Improved Trip against this guy.
Trip touch attack: [roll0]
Strength check: [roll1]
Attack if successful: [roll2] Damage: [roll3]

[Null]

As Maldwyn grabs onto his opponent, the man jerks his arm close and shifts his shoulder into Maldwyn, pushing him off. There's a clamor inside the shack and the footsteps from before sound to almost be upon the group.

You see a similarly robed man round the corner behind the shack, holding a crossbow in his arms.

[hustlertwo]

Havelin looks forlornly at the still form of the armored man.

So unnecessary. But this is what you get for aiding in the tortures Jamen has endured. And the rest of you shall taste the same!

He moves behind the mace man, hoping to split his attention and catch him off guard with a flail strike to the skull.

[roll0] [roll1]

[Null]

Hearing Havelin move up to his flank, he turns to his side so he can focus his attention on both attackers. He leans back as the flail swishes past his head, almost losing his balance in the process.

"Face me as you fought Richten, coward!"

Jamen points his hand in the direction of the drunkard. "More coming around the side!"

[J-H]

Bucca
Hearing others coming, Bucca moves out from the shack, drawing another flask from his pocket as he goes, and then flinging it.


Move to Q15, throwing acid flask at Enemy 5. Ranged Touch attack, with a -3 or -4 penalty due to distance, depending on how you measure it.

Attack [roll0] minus penalty, without without Point Blank Shot applying.
Damage [roll1]+4 to main target, 1 point of splash damage on enemy 4.

[Null]

Bucca throws a bullet. With barely a curve in it's path, the flask smashes into the newcomer's head and the acid begins eating. He drops his weapon, clawing at his face like an animal. Shortly after he is on the ground in a heap, and the clawing turns to twitching.

In single-minded fury, the mace and dagger lash out at Havelin. Knowing his armor can withstand a bit of bashing but perhaps not a slashing, Havelin shifts his body so that he takes the force of the mace into his shoulder, but avoids the dagger aimed at his rib cage.

Havelin takes 4 damage.

[dextercorvia]

Out of the corner of his eye, Slate catches the man coming up through the space between the buildings. He drops his wand and draws his bow, his momentum carrying him a step in the direction of the thug. An arrow is knocked, drawn, and loosed with one continuous motion.


5' step to T9 to put him within 30'
Attacking Enemy 2 [roll0] vs FFAC
Damage [roll1]+[roll2] sneak attack

[Null]

Had he been relying on his own skill, the one with the crossbow surely would have been slain by Slate's arrow. But as Luck would have it, the arrow flies past the man without him having ever noticed. He looks up and sees the gnome, letting lose a bolt of his own. It would also seem that in this moment Luck had decided to be with both men. The bolt whizzes by Slate and makes its home in a a building several yards away.

Knowing what skill he had with a sword, Jamen's target seemed obvious. He runs forward to join Havelin and Maldwyn and jabs at the enemy, having it easily parried away.

Rounding the corner of the shack, a new enemy appears and dramatically points a wand in the direction of the three-person melee. A red rift is torn in the space behind Maldwyn and a reddish-black centipede emerges as the rift closes. It begins to rear up ready to tear it's fangs into Maldwyn; instead the paladin swiftly places a boot atop the creature's head, forcing it back down to the ground.

[Tajerio]

Summoning fiendish myriapoda, are we? Maldwyn shouts, and rips his axe downwards at the centipede, trying to cleave it in two.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[hustlertwo]

The cleric grunts as he takes the hit, feeling something pop in his shoulder. Big talk about cowards from one of a half-dozen soldiers sent to take a single unarmed man. You'll have to settle for taking this instead!

Havelin goes to slam the flail into his dual-wielding foe.

I am calling it here: this roll hits. I've had horrible luck with the die roller in a couple different threads and I think it's due to break about now. [roll0] [roll1]

[Null]

Maldwyn cleanly turns the one bug into two, albeit each size about half the length as before. An unhot fire envelopes it's body until it's burned back into the realm from wince it came.

Building on the momentum from the smack in the shoulder, Havelin aims a blow at his attacker's head. He attempts to guard against it with both weapons, but the strike is too strong. The flail bashes straight through the guard and into the man's jaw, causing it to point in a very unnatural angle. Without so much as a whimper, he drops both weapons and crumples into the ground.

One more robed figure stands in the doorway of the shack now, behind the one with the wand. He looks out at the death in front of him, then looks to the left and the right. Backing away slowly, he turns and retreats back into the shack.

[dextercorvia]

Pretend he's a coney. Slate's hand stops shaking. He's never fired his bow at another person before. He's not though. He is a person. That thought over and over in the gnome's head. He's a bad person though. He imprisoned Jamen. Imprisonment is worse than death. The crossbow bolt whizzes past him. There is a difference between knowing that you are fighting for your life and actually doing it. His left hand steadies. His right smoothly reaches for an arrow, knocks and looses it. I miss Perth Crainn. Another shaft follows before the first is half the distance to the crossbowman.


Using Rapid Shot to fire two arrows as a Full Round action. They will probably both go into Enemy 3. If the first one kills him (unlikely) the second one will go to Enemy 4.

Attack 1 Damage [roll1d4+1
Attack 2 Damage [roll1d4+1

[Null]

The first arrow places itself firmly in Slate's target's left shoulder. The crossbowmen yelps in pain as the second arrow flies past him and he wraps his hand around the shaft, hesitating.

Jamen breathes in the scene around him. "We're going to survive?!" Invigorated, he screams bloody murder as he charges the man with the wand. He clumsily swings the sword as his enemy takes a half-hearted step backwards, easily avoiding it.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn advances more calmly after Jamen, regarding the wand-wielder with contained anger.

Hieroneous grant me strength, to drive this summoner of foulness from the earth! and the paladin swings his greataxe down in a mighty overhead stroke.

Maldwyn's using Smite Evil on this guy.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[hustlertwo]

I too am a little surprised at our success, Jamen. Let us press the advantage!

Havelin moves to the crossbowman, looking to remove one of the last threats.

[roll0] [roll1]

[hustlertwo]

As the bowman falls, Havelin looks to his comrades.

We may need to speak with one of these miscreants. Everybody pick one and look them over for clues, relieve them of their possessions so they don't pose a threat, and then we will see who is still among us.

Since he is already there, Havelin will do so for the man with the crossbow, searching him thoroughly and checking to see of the flail strike had left him too far gone.

[dextercorvia]

Slate looks over their assailants for some clue to why they are here. He gathers their valuables while he's at it, forfeit for the unprovoked assault. "We'll need to hurry. Someone will get curious before too long and I'd like some distance between us and them."


Taking 10 on some search checks (17). Starting with the two leaders then the mage and the others (order is only important in case we get interrupted).

[J-H]

Bucca helps check the downed foes for potions, flasks, coins, papers, and anything else of notice.


I have a Search Mod of +1. Take 10 to aid another.

[Null]

The party doesn't find much of interest on the bodies of the fallen men. Mostly, they carry the equipment and robes they used to fight in, with a few odds and different ends. All of the armor they wear under the robes however bears the same insignia as the shield from the first enemy. It doesn't take very long for the group to strip what they want, yet Jamen paces back and forth across the dirt.

"I couldn't be more thankful everyone. I had nothing before today, and now you've given me a light to look to. If this engagement is any indication -though- I won't make it far alone. First time I ever swung a sword in earnest and we see how well that went. I've nothing to offer but my gratitude, but if you could continue to help me in any way, you'll have it forever."

Light starts to grow from deeper into the city, from the direction of the former clock tower. It would seem to indicate that the city guard or something else is coming to investigate. It will take some several minutes for them to arrive at the pace the light seems to grow. "I have to agree with Slate, you men deserve what you've earned but we won't have long to collect the spoils before the guards are upon us. Or worse. One of them did get away, and I do believe there were more that Slate tricked into the other direction, they could be back at a moment's notice."

A laborious and dry breath emerges from the lungs of the first foe to fall. He speaks no words but another breath follows shortly. He's bleeding out quickly, but would seem to still be alive.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn grimaces in distaste at the looting of the bodies. He knows it's often wise and sometimes a necessity, but it still sometimes seems crass.

Need we fear this city guard? he asks the others. They seem poor servants of justice, but I wouldn't wish to pass judgment upon them from my limited experience. Nor do I want simply to walk away from the scene of a lethal battle in the streets.

As he says this, he moves over to the foe who's bleeding out, and attempts to administer some aid to the man.

Heal check: [roll0]

[hustlertwo]

We definitely should fear them. The odds of these fellows acting in some fashion for a member of the government are high. We can't trust that they'd believe us when we say how things came out, and if they don't, not a one of us will see the light of day for many years. That's assuming they don't just kill us and be done with it. I suggest we take what we can from these foul folk to help us pay for a quick escape out of the city. Once we're away from the search, we can try to figure out if there's anyone we can contact who might be against the people who did this to Jamen.

And Jamen, of course we'll keep helping you. What you have suffered cannot go unanswered. We will seek justice, but first we will seek to make sure we all live through the next two days.

He looks around, then comes closer to the group, whispering in an attempt not to be overheard by anyone near the area.

But first...which way do we go? None of us seemed to know anyone in the nearby areas. Should we head for a smaller settlement in hopes the word does not travel as fast as us, or go straight for the wilderness? Either way, let's make that call on the run.

Once everything is gathered and sorted, he gestures for the others to join him as they move at a normal, non-suspicious pace away from the scene of the carnage, further out of the city.

[Null]

As Maldwyn goes to work the man seems to go in and out of consciousness. When his work is finished, the bleeding has stopped and his breathing has returned somewhat to normal. Jamen watches with astonishment.

"Try to kill us, threaten to burn his property," pointing at Havelin, "and we save his life? You are strange folk. Noble, though. Were I a king I'd knight you all. Still, it will be very conspicuous to drag him around and not to mention difficult." Jamen begins picking through the armor and holds up a leather tunic. "Anyone care if I wear a bit of this? They'll be looking for someone either naked or in my robes. And if we found trouble again I'd be less likely to get myself killed using that crossbow."

Hearing no concrete plan yet, Jamen offers his own. "When I escaped the house, I went through a section that lead me through an underground tunnel system. It was dark and vast. A real damn maze. After feeling around in the dark for what felt like hours I found some steps, which led me up into the building you saw me come from. It's probably very risky to use, though. I'm sure these people frequent the tunnels and maybe even the city guard does as well. But it would keep us off the streets up here. Now, I wouldn't really begin to know where to find one of these entrances except for the one near the clock tower, but I'd imagine much of the guard is still near that one..." As his voice trails off, he looks at the unconscious guard.

[dextercorvia]

"No, we'll have to leave him, but there is no point in him dying. We are all making it out of here alive. Grab what you can and we'll go this way." Slate exaggeratedly points in the direction of the clock tower. He scoops up what he can and hands things off to others.

He then tosses a gold piece to the drunk. "You are going to want to sleep it off somewhere else. Otherwise the guard might think you did this. That ought to buy you a couple tankards for your trouble."

As soon as they are around the corner from the drunk he turns down an alley then begins angling away from the guards again. "If they catch him and he remembers enough to talk, hopefully he'll send them the wrong way. I like the idea of these tunnels Jamen, but I'm not a local. Are there any other famous landmarks nearby like that bell tower? If the tunnels are old enough then perhaps the entrances are all hidden near places like that."

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn nods sadly at Havelin's words. He also realizes that it probably isn't practical to carry a man out of the city on his back inconspicuously, and inwardly castigates himself for moving to heal the man--it certainly wasn't out of kindness that he did it, given the clear evil of the man and his associates.

Time to be a touch misleading, he says, and he rapidly and roughly sketches a ellipsoid, with a dot in the center, inside a diamond in the dust nearby.

I know I ought not to lie, my Lord, he adds silently by way of apology, but I ought not to punish others for my thoughtlessness either. Then he follows as swiftly as he can after the others.

Maldwyn's rough sketch is the symbol of Incabulos, the god of plagues, sickness, disasters, etc. Green eye inside a red diamond, but obviously Maldwyn doesn't have colors available.

[Null]

The gold piece smacks against the drunk and he grunts a bit. Jamen stumbles around a bit, trying to pull the tunic over him as he keeps pace with the group. "Several, if memory serves true. Many of the books they had me read had to do with the history of the city. If I'm right about our location, the closest one would be Lynngol memorial. A bad fire broke out about forty years back an Lynngol died saving a few orphans. Though one of the guard barracks is in the same square as it. There's the statue of Rhuuben, but that's in the inner city, I doubt we'd make it far there without being stopped. Although the Historic Homestead is just a bit farther than the Lynngol memorial. First building ever constructed back when the city was in its infancy. Over the years it's become a tavern and inn."

[dextercorvia]

"Forty years is not that old. Coupled with a barracks and our current situation, I think that rules out the memorial. I expect you are right about not being able to reach the statue, though it sounds promising. That leaves the Homestead. I bet there is an access to the tunnel system in their ale cellar. That's what I'd pick, but I'm not in charge of the rest of you. Anyone else have any good ideas?"

[hustlertwo]

Sure. Anything to connect to these tunnels sound good; they are secret enough they should not expect us to know about them, which is a powerful advantage. Also, no bystanders to rat us out or get hurt in a crossfire.

Havelin hands the crossbow to Jamen and grabs some of the spoils at random to help carry the load, and prepares to head off with the others to the Homestead.

[J-H]

Bucca
"Do you think all of the guards are going to know about this by dawn? We could just go out one of the gates, maybe by hitching a ride in a merchant's wagon. All this creeping about in tunnels seems like a a bad idea."

[Null]

"It won't take them long to stumble upon the scene we left back at the shack, I imagine it won't be long after that til they have everyone passing through under scrutiny. Though I must admit, going back into the tunnel system doesn't thrill me. We don't have a large window to decide though. We can bet we'll have to find some way out of the city that doesn't involve the gates if we do anything but leave now, and leaving now has it worries too."

[hustlertwo]

I vote tunnels. If we slip into a merchant's wagon and we are discovered, it will likely be by a force too large to combat, and out in the open. In the tunnels, we have a good chance of being unnoticed, and if we are they should not have room to overwhelm us, so at worst we can just flee back the way we came.

[Tajerio]

Tunnels seem the wisest choice. We won't exactly be inconspicuous above ground, and I'm rubbish at moving surreptitiously. Moreover, I'd like to avoid any situation in which we have to choose between fighting the city guard or surrendering to them.

[dextercorvia]

"Healer, do you know the way to this Homestead? Preferably something that keeps us off of major streets as much as possible."

[hustlertwo]

Sure. Even though I have not been around long, it seems a popular place for people to rough each other up for reasons large and small when they're in their cups. Already done a few heal jobs there and had to smack one guy around who did not appreciate his punching bag getting back up.

Havelin leads the way, after using up Detect Magic and Read Magic to cast two Cure Minor Wounds spells on himself, bringing his HP total to 13 for the nonce.

[Null]

A dim glow starts to appear in the night as the sun begins its slow ark into the sky. Havelin leads through a curving dirt street surrounded by a ramshackle of wooden homes and businesses. He veers of the dirt path towards a stone bridge, crossing over a shallow stream. The bridge leads deeper into the city, where the broken buildings give way to ones crafted of stone and streets paved with cobble. It is so early in the morn now that the party begins to pass by many men and women beginning their business for the day on their route to the Homestead. The fresh smell of bakers beginning their morning rituals fills the streets, And Jamen's nose twitches with envy.

"Oh how I wish a life of normalcy." The street Havelin chooses now narrows in an invading manner, as the space between buildings couldn't be more than eight feet at its widest. A young group of children playing with marbles stop to admire the party. They begin badgering the men with questions, look at Slate and Bucca with astonishment, and try to convince Havelin and Maldwyn to let them carry their weapons for a bit. "Please Mista, we'll give it right back you know we will! C'mon!" The children follow the group for a minute until a small pack of stray dogs is found and the party is quickly forgotten.

They begin to climb up a set of about three dozen steps when loud footfalls can be heard from atop. After ascension, the street opens up into a large merchant's square. Few of the shops are open, but many folk already wait outside in the square, joining or waiting for their companions to begin the day. Havelin dutifully moves the group passed this square and upon rounding into the next street, Five guards are seen jogging towards the group.

Jamen tries his best to inconspicuously move to the center of the group. As both sides pass, each guard has a look of annoyance plastered over their faces, but they each do their best to look at every member of the group up and down as they pass. Once they're out of sight, Jamen's exasperated sigh can be heard from several feet away as he releases his breath.

A few more minutes of walking and they pass under an arch-way, and at last lay eyes on the Historic Homestead. It's smaller in height to the surrounding buildings, but by width it is easily one of the largest buildings the group has seen in the town. "It was a communal home of sorts, when the settlers first came here." Jamen states.

Much of the old wooden building has been replaced or reinforced with stone over the years. A raised wooden porch extended from the front of the building , with a dozen tables outside and what looks to be an empty stage to the far left of it. Unlit torches hang from the rain shelter covering the porch, and a huge taxidermy bear stands on one side of the double-doored entrance. Two patrons sit at one of the tables, enjoying their breakfast and having a heated discussion on the implications of dragon cross-breeding. Another man lies atop one of the table with his legs hanging half off, appearing asleep.

The Homestead itself has two stories, each with a ceiling of about 15 feet. Dirty windows dot along the entire building and a three chimneys jut out from the roof, billowing a constant torrent of smoke.

"Well, I suppose it's time to meet a bit of history, eh boys?" Jamen smiles.

[hustlertwo]

I don't reckon we can just ask where the tunnel is. If anyone knows anything about gauging architecture, now might be the time. For now, I guess we just watch for anyone to appear out of nowhere, and try to be as casual as possible for a group of heavily armed individuals who may or may not have gotten someone else's blood on them. Which, in this part of the city, is actually pretty casual.

Havelin goes to find an unoccupied table with enough chairs for the whole group, preferably far back in the shadows of the room so Jamen is less visible.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn shrugs. I could ask, but I'm no skilled dissembler, and as you say, it's likely to bring unwanted attention. He sighs, scratches his head absently, and goes on.

In most places I've been, people trust me because they can see I'm a paladin and they don't mind telling me what I want to know, because they know I'll help. But here, I think the paladin ought not to trust the people, and I don't think they want my help either.

[dextercorvia]

"It seems easiest to me to just go inside and look for something out of the ordinary. It is a public establishment, after all." With that, Slate walks up to the door and enters.

Spot check for something peculiar [roll0]

[Null]

The party enters into a large room, half-lit by candlelight. An assortment of square and round tables pepper the space around. Towards the back is a long bar, currently serviced by one man, who Havelin recognizes as Rick, the overnight to early morning barkeep. The Homestead once called upon Havelin's services at a late hour, and Havelin arrived to see Rick with a large gash across his head from trying to stop a fight. Evidence of the wound still remains.

About a half dozen patrons are scattered throughout the room enjoying a breakfast of yesterday's dinner bread and fresh eggs. Another half dozen all crowd around a large square table, and in an almost disinterested manner are chanting, "Chug, chug, chug... hoorah...", as a hulk of a dwarf finishes ale from a mug and slams it down. Another mug is brought to the dwarf and he passively sips at it as the chanting stops and the men return to quiet conversation.

Across from the entrance is a stairwell that leads up into most of the rooms for the patrons, and next to that is a hallway that leads into more rooms for patrons and other rooms to keep the business running; the kitchen, storage, meeting rooms and so on. In the far right is the entrance to a shop within the Homestead, Geddy's General Goods and Gifts.

Rick addresses the party as they head towards their table to the far aside. "Welcome folks! Come for breakfast, or would you like a room? Of course we also have ale, and if that group over there is any indication we never judge those who like to start their parties early!" After noticing Bucca and Slate, "Big or small, we take all! Later in the afternoon we have some entertainment scheduled -Oh my, Havelin, barely recognized you when you're in company. Gods, please don't tell me someone is dying upstairs again."

There doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary in the first room that sticks out to Slate.

[hustlertwo]

Havelin manages a chuckle.

Not that I know of, but if they are, let me know. Never a bad time to get a bit of business. Just spending some time with my friends here, had to get out of the house. That crumbly shack seems to get draftier every day.

You know, I was in a bit of a rush last time. Can you take a minute to tell us a bit about the Homestead? Rocky here was just saying it was some kind of an old landmark or something.

[dextercorvia]

Slate bends down, looking at the stonework at the base of the wall, then comments to the group. "I'm telling you, this has got to be gnomish work. People see good stonework and they always assume dwarves. But, I'd bet ten gold crowns to your one that the foundation was laid by gnomes."

[Null]

"Rocky is right. So is your friend there, mostly at least. I assume you can read more than just magic? There's a few books on its history in the library. I'm fairly new in town myself, so I'm not concrete on the details, but much of the original town was planned and built by a team of gnomes. Though they also had a dwarf on their team, that one, he claims at least." Rick points to the dwarf drinking at the table. "Says he laid the first stone. Feel free to talk to him, but Barus has been mostly quiet since he returned to town recently. Mostly just stays drunk. At least he had for the last four days."

[J-H]

Bucca

Bucca casually walks over to the table, his manner unusually energetic for the early hour.

"Hi! Rick said you helped build this place. Is that true? It's pretty neat, and if you did, I bet you know more about it than anyone else in the room."


Diplomacy [roll0]

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn chimes in. The stonework's good enough even an elf can appreciate it, he says self-deprecatingly.

Aiding Another on the Diplomacy check (if I can do that): [roll0]

[Null]

The dwarf is old, but appears to be in good shape. He has deep creases that accentuate his face, and a large crooked nose with big round ears. His hair is gray and sits short on his head, with a matching beard that extends to his neck. He is very broad and large arms, with a gut to match all the ale he's had over the years. Right now, one eye is closed and the other is open about half way.

He speaks slowly, and every sentence seems to bring great difficulty. "The stonework is good. And I know more about this city than anyone here, not just this building. I used to be proud of that fact, til this city became what it is now." He reaches out to grab his mug but his knocks into the side of it, spilling it over the table. Barus chuckles to himself than sets it up right. He lets his hand fall to the hilt of a large axe then sets his gaze back over the group, both eyes open and widening. He lingers on Jamen for a moment before speaking again.

"You're a peculiar group. And you don't look to be tourists. Why are you asking me of this?"

[J-H]

Bucca

"We're not too happy with a few things in this city ourselves, right now... but there's not anything we can do. Trap a mouse in an upside down box, and it'll try to go down to get past the walls."

[dextercorvia]

Slate orders a tankard to replace the dwarf's spilled drink and sits down next to Took. He catches the halfling's meaning and nods along.

[hustlertwo]

Havelin waits behind while the others talk up the dwarf, trying to get information from his bartender acquaintance.

You know, Rocky also mentioned something about the clock tower coming down. Have there been any lawmen coming near here? I reckon something like that coming down right before the big ceremony...gotta be sabotage.

[Null]

The eyebrow above the half open eye raises high after Bucca speaks, and the dwarf smiles as he accepts the ale from Slate. "Two humans, an elf, and a gnome and halflin'. A group you're not oft to see in these parts. Then you come to the only dwarf in town an' speak all cryptic-like. It's lookin' to seem that I came home at the right time." Barus stands from his chair and places both his hands on the table. "Before we go down, we must go up. C'mon now, upstairs to my room. Too many ears out here." Then he looks around to the group that was chanting for him. "Go home my friendly drunks, and speak no words of what happened here, else Barus'll come for ya." With that, he grabs his axe and heads for the stairs.

"Perhaps," Rick pauses as he hands out a tray of ale, "though personally I'm suspicious it's just spotty work. The elf who designed it was to be honored during the ceremonies as well. He was staying here, and before we got news of the tower breaking, he scrambled all of his personals together and bolted out. Wasn't long after that the guardsmen arrived trying to find him."

[hustlertwo]

Havelin shrugs at Rick.

Huh. Guess he didn't want to stay and face the music. I wouldn't either if I derailed the big event the night before.

Upon seeing the others heading off with the dwarf, Havelin moves to rejoin them.

Take care, Rick. Don't pick any fights you can't win.

[dextercorvia]

Is this too easy? Slate muses to himself as they walk upstairs. We just happen to find someone that knows the thing we hope is true. Maybe, or maybe he plans to distract us while the bartender calls the guard. His suspicions don't stop him, but he does glance around for another way out, just in case.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn looks around the tavern, trying to work out if any of the fairly uninterested patrons are in fact interested and evil. Then he turns and follows the party upstairs.

Detecting Evil and scanning the room long enough to get full coverage.

[Null]

At first, all seems well as Maldwyn surveys the room. But just before he turns away to follow the others, a sense of dread fills him from the toes and up. He locks eyes with a peasantly looking man who was part of Barus' group as the man scurries out onto the streets.

The stairs up grown under each step, and the party follows Barus through dimly lit corridors until he stops at a door, produces a key and enters. The room doesn't have many features of its own. A window is against the wall that looks out into the street from where the group came. A small bed is under the window, currently covered in bags and cases belonging to the dwarf, and there is a large bookshelf against another wall that has far to few books. On one of the shelves sits the holy symbol of Moradin, a stone sculpture of an anvil with a hammer extending from the top.

Barus offers two chairs to the group, all that seem to be in the room, then plops onto the bed. "Ignored me lord's call for twenty years now. Decided instead it'd fit me better to just wander around in drink after what happened. But then I got tired o' being miserable and worthless, so I thought I'd try listenin' to Him again. An' what's He tell me? Go home. Wait and you'll see where you're needed. So I wait, and in four days time you five show. Way I can see, you five are involved in His plan for me. Or I'm mad an' this is all coincidence."

Barus looks to his symbol then out the window and is quiet for a few moments before speaking again. "So out with it then, who'd ya piss off?"

Edit: The one Maldwyn sees fleeing the Homestead is definitely evil.

[Tajerio]

Maldwyn comes swiftly up the stairs and catches the very tail end of Barus' statement.

Not entirely sure, but whoever they are, they're most certainly evil. One of them had his eye on us, and he just ran out the front door. So whatever we're about, we'd best do it quickly.

[hustlertwo]

Aye. We can tell you specifics some later day, I hope. For now just trust is when we say it could be all the difference in the world to an innocent man f you will help us escape undetected.

[dextercorvia]

"You're right that we aren't from these parts. We came here because we heard a rumor of secret tunnels that might get us out of town. No one knew a location, but I thought the oldest part of town would be a good place to start looking. Offer thanks to Moradin for putting you in our path."

[hustlertwo]

Gentle bump.