The Red Hand of Doom (3.5)

[Saintheart]

The Red Hand of Doom


https://images2.imgbox.com/58/aa/ojdfF0q4_o.jpg



The dry hilltops danced with fire.

Throughout the heart of the wild badlands the humans called the Wyrmbones, great bonfires had been kindled atop the ridges overlooking Cannath Vale. There thousands of warriors had gathered -- hobgoblins in armor dyed scarlet, thick-thewed bugbear berserkers, goblin worg riders and skirmishers and archers, and the scaled ones as well, who often towered over the rest. For so long they had fought each other, tribe against tribe, race against race, engaged in the endless test of battle, feud, and betrayal. But tonight . . . tonight they stood together, hated enemies shoulder-to-shoulder, shouting together as brothers. And they saw that they were strong, and together they danced and sang and shook their blades at the smoke-hidden stars overhead.

"We are the Kulkor Zhul!" they shouted, and the hills shook with the thunder of their voices. "We are the People of the Dragon! Uighulth na Hargai! None can stand before us!"

One by one the tribes fell silent. Armor creaked as thousands turned to look up to the Place of Speaking. There, a single champion emerged from the assemblage and slowly climbed the ancient stone stair cut into the side of the hill. A hundred bright yellow banners stood beneath him like a phalanx of spears, each marked with a great red hand. The warpriests holding the banners chanted battle-prayers in low voices as the champion ascended.

On the hundredth step he stopped and turned to face the waiting warriors. He was tall and strong, one of the hobgoblin chieftains, but dull blue scales gleamed along his shoulders, and jutting horns swept back from his head. "I am Azarr Kul, Son of the Dragon!" he cried. "Hear me, warriors of the Kulkor Zhul! Tomorrow we march to war!"

The warriors roared their approval, stamping their feet and clashing spear to shield. Azarr Kul waited, holding his hands aloft until they quieted again. "The warpriests of the Doom Hand have shown us the way! They have taught us honor, discipline, obedience -- and strength! No more will we waste our blood fighting each other. We will take the lands of the elf, the dwarf, and the human, and make them ours! Under the banner of the Red Hand of Doom we march to victory and conquest! Remember that you stood here this night, warriors of Kulkor Zhul! For a hundred generations your sons and your sons' sons will sing of the blood spilled by your swords and the glory you win in the nights to come! Now, my brothers -- to WAR!"

The burning hills were too small to hold the shout the Kulkor Zhul gave in answer to their warlord's call.





Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeKMYV0tEUg)



At some point over some couple of miles, the washed-out yellow of tallgrass either side of the dusty trail gave way to green copses of white-trunked eucalyptus. Jaslyn’s Pea dotted the earth all around like little hanging rubies in the afternoon sun. The wind slowed, bringing the wafting scent of distant orange groves. And the rocky flatlands gave way to Cannath Vale’s rolling hills, the straight trail shifting to undulate around the rises and falls.

It made the muscles soften, the back curve into a more agreeable shape for strolling, slowed one’s mount from a walk to an amble. The shallow shadows of the hills began to relieve the day's heat, and the wind shifted westerly, putting the breeze as well as the sun at their backs for the last few miles of travel left to the travellers before they reached Drellin’s Ferry. And a strange band of travellers it was.

First came a giant.
Or goliath, rather; head and shoulders bigger than an ordinary man, a massive hammer balanced across one shoulder, eyes glinting like emeralds. This fierce look was offset by the incongruous yellow parrot perched on his other shoulder. As it was, the hammer had apparently been lonely; half a dozen smaller hammers bounced in a bandolier across the big man’s chest like a litter of puppies under the statuesque figure’s protection. And death walked beside him.

This was not precisely a euphemism. The armoured man matching the goliath’s pace might not have been bristling with weapons, but the combination of full plate, heavy shield, and hand-and-a-half sword in its sheath might have given one pause. Few men knew how to use such weapons effectively with one hand. But fewer still also wore the holy symbol of the Scales and Bones, the sigil of Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, and such men were not to be trifled with.

A stranger combination walked behind them. One was a solid-sized black bear. The other was a young woman. It was a question of considerable debate as to which was more deadly. One might have been entranced by the woman’s graceful stride and long auburn tresses that seemed to drift against the wind, but one would have had a note of disquiet raised when one met the woman’s single, sharp, frigid sapphire eye, and the faint unease that greeted the traveller whenever their gaze dropped to the weapon at her side – a weapon easily the size of the Death Cleric’s own bastard sword.

Behind these, camels and mules. And another pair of travellers, stranger still. One was perhaps familiar to those conversant with bards’ tales and overblown deeds of derring-do out of the North: the black skin, dark grey hair, elongated ears and cloak against the sun marked this one as a drow, a dark elf, hands never far from the dragonbone bow he carried, though this one would never have claimed to the ways or deeds of that drow from Ten-Towns. The other was not so familiar: a walking brass dragon. Or not so much walking as gliding; the creature’s posture and gait were excellent, as though it were on a dance floor or in a great lord’s chamber rather than in the middle of a dusty road. The more observant would then see that this could only be a member of the people known as the dragonborn, though the walking dragon’s age and sex were difficult to judge.

And on the left hand side of this curious menagerie of travellers, perhaps the strangest one of all: a wild-bearded Halfling with a formal bow tie and top hat riding on the back of a great riding dog. The halfling’s vest was straining to contain a generous frame (itself the result of much past prosperity). This odd vision rode up and down the left hand side of this odder column, occasionally (and not-so-occasionally) regaling the other travellers with tales of past greatness and coming magnificence for them, and, in particular, for himself.

This, then, is the band that moves from out of the obscurity that is the place of all people outside recorded history, and into this chronicle. (And here my hand relents for a cup of mulled wine, a bowl of chalked water to ease the Dry Twist of my knuckles, and to ask a blessing of Oghma: make the tale live for us in all its many bearings, O muse of historians across the Realms…)


If you're looking for the current OOC thread, it can be found here (https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?636124-Red-Hand-of-Doom-3-5-OOC-Thread-II&p=25186244#post25186244).[/URL]

The Complication Pool stands at 1 of 6.

[A.A.King]

"All is going well" the fat halfling said in a boisterous voice to his travel companions "just a few more miles of travel left until we've reach Drellin’s Ferry, the starting point of our tour to conquer the hearts and minds of the people from Cannath Vale! From this, word will spread about the revival of the Great Bremer circus and not long after people will be praying to their gods asking for the circus to come to their town next! It's the first step on the path to fame, glory and wealth!!"

"ARE WE ALL EXCITED?!!"

[danielxcutter]

"Yeeeeeeh..." cheered the death priest half-heartedly, as he weakly pumped his fist and rolled his eyes behind his helmet.

To the goliath he muttered, "I'll say this much about him, though; his optimism really is admirable at times. Maybe that's how he's still going on."

[Dimers]

"Excited, yes," replied the dragonborn, "but worried, too. You know I'm not half as good as you at putting on a show. What if I flop? I don't want to reflect badly on this troupe ... or on the most excellent god who blessed me with the gifts I use. I know, I know, I've asked before, and I'm sure you wouldn't have me if you didn't think I were good enough. It's just that 'good enough' doesn't always feel good enough." She paused a moment, armor softly tikking as she walked. "I guess because Bahamut expects the best."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya yawned and stretched her hands into the sky. The dusty mountain trails were finally behind them. She shook out her hair and adjusted the braided leather strip that held it from her face. Rubbing her fingers together afterward, she could feel the grime. There was a grimace.

"Gods, I need a bath... will this town even have a hot bath?"

There was some doubt in her question, as if already assuming the answer would be 'no'. There was a heavy sigh. Aerilaya hadn't planned on any of this. She had just wanted to get away from home, to master her father's blade, to make him proud. If he could see me now... She shook her head. No better than the beasts I'm walking next to, forced to perform for a treat.

She gave another huff and dug into her satchel to retrieve the pipe. It was a calming habit she had picked up from the halflings of Luiren. The only times she smoked were when she was completely relaxed or annoyed.

None

[danielxcutter]

"Well, at least it’s a roof over our heads.” Arendi remarked, looking back towards the swordsage. ”Sleeping outside actually isn’t that bad when you don’t need worry about the heat or cold, but to be honest the novelty’s already worn off.”

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

"I'm just saying... I most definitely will need a proper cleaning before our first show. The men don't come to see the high wire for my stunning personality."

Aerilaya made a mock kissing face toward Arendi as he turned around. Her hands pushed her chest together in a lewd motion as she rolled her eyes. Her act didn't even seem like real entertainment. Watch a woman wearing more revealing clothes than the girls at the cat house possibly fall to her death. People were twisted.

None

[A.A.King]

"All good performers are worried before the big night. I have worked with some of the greatest artist in the bussiness and I can tell you that the moment you stop worrying is the moment you stop getting better and start getting worse. It's all part of the performers life!" Alastor said with a grin so big you could hear it in his voice. He was very excited to have assembled such a large group for the next show.

"This really is the life, isn't it! See the world, make people happy and be rewarded with fame and fortune just for doing what you love!!"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi sighed. "Alastor, please.” The ringmaster wasn’t a bad man, but he could get insensitive at times.

[Aracor]

I love the intro!

The goliath walked on, stolid and quiet; though his mouth quirked in a grin when he heard the priest mutter to him. He returns with: On the plus side, my guise as Strong Man doesn't require that I be eloquent. I can stay in character and not have to worry about putting on an act.

And as an even greater benefit, our band of fools and fops is still large enough to avoid the worst kind of attention and has kept travel relatively boring. Remember: Boring is good, exciting is bad. Though I must admit exciting is when we push ourselves to our limits, and that is how we grow (as long as we survive the excitement). But if they have a bed for me, I'll admit it will be welcome...even if it's two beds pushed together.

[danielxcutter]

The death priest chuckled. ”Heh, I don’t need divine guidance to know that you’re right. There’s...” His face clouded over for a moment, though it went unseen as it was covered by his visor. ”...certainly worse fates than this.”

[Saintheart]

The yellow bird perched on Vokon's shoulder flapped its wings in a great spray of golden feathers and resettled, cocking a wide eye at Arendi. "(Awwk!) Such as? (Arrrk!)"

[danielxcutter]

”Well for you, not getting fed regularly I’d expect.” Arendi responded, and then paused. ”Wait, that’s not exactly great for us either.”

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None.

The greyhaired dark elf strode quietly at the back of the column, inwardly laughing at the silliness of his companions. Outwardly he was softly cursing, however, "Blasted trees... Can't see jack... And the weather is far too nice for good things... Blasted weather..." He was glad, however, for the size of their company. It had been many times when the ringleader and he had traveled with smaller troupes than this, and brigands and highwaymen always saw them as prey. They'd quickly come to regret that, but in his experience, every battle has a casualty. And he had seen far too many casualties in his life to be fond of them. So, instead, he kept his eyes trained on the trees, cursing all the while that they weren't in an open field where he could see possible enemies approaching.

[A.A.King]

"Guise?" Alastor said to Vokan "What are you talking about big guy? You ARE a strongman, strongest strongman we've had in a long time, maybe ever. And when you stand next to me on stage you look even bigger. The strength of twelve men, easily. I find it hard not to get excited when I imagine the crowds being impressed by all of you. I'm glad our travels have been uninterupted so far, but in showbizz we never say that 'boring is good' for only if the people are bored do we have to worry about food!!"

Alastor then turned pogo around for his periodic check of the other animals.

[danielxcutter]

”...I keep forgetting I’m traveling with a literal circus.” said Arendi, shaking his head.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

"Tell me the trick you use to forget. Please."

Aerilaya pleading was monotone as she clenched the pipe in her teeth and struck a spark to it. The heavy scent filled the air about her face and she gave a bit of a sigh as she exhaled.

None

[danielxcutter]

”It’s probably because I’m not an active performer like you are, sorry.” said Arendi apologetically. He shrugged. ”Not going to lie though, your tightrope act is quite impressive. Even without this tin can I can’t hold a candle to some of the things I’ve seen you pull off. And I technically am a practitioner of the Sublime Way as well, you know.”

[Dimers]

"Think of it this way, Aidan," the dragonborn said to the drow beside her. "The clear weather means rain isn't helping any raiders hide from us. And there's no mud on our boots to slow our steps if we have to fight." Her tone is more conversational than persuasive, though. She knows better than to try sweetening Aidan's bitterness ... if his eagle eye weren't searching for trouble, he wouldn't be himself, or perhaps even alive.

[Aracor]

Perhaps, Alastor. But I am not so unusual among my tribe. To me, it's like getting excited because a bird flies, a fish swims, or a spider weaving a web. Would the people also be so impressed at a centaur who runs as fast as a horse? Or a dwarf who wears a beard?

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

"Only if it was a female dwarf!"

Aerilaya snickered some as she called out to respond to the 'giant' among the caravan. The banter seemed to have lightened her mood, if only slightly.

None

[danielxcutter]

"You'd be surprised at what some of the kids think, Aerilaya." responded Arendi, chuckling as well.

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

As they chatted, the travellers' path crested a small rise and descended into a large, shallow dell with trees shadowing both sides of the trail. An abandoned farmhouse, partially visible through the trees, stood on one side of the road.

Aidan and the others had passed through a dozen such places today. However, this one felt wrong to the drow. And indeed it perhaps was because the dark elf had been scanning the trees suspiciously that he noticed a glint of mail through the brush by the side of the road. Fierce warriors -- tall, hairy humanoids with wide mouths and flat faces -- were lying in wait, roosting in the branches of some of the trees around them. Eight of them at a quick count, four to either side from what he could tell. Hobgoblins. Drow awareness put the pieces together: the wind was at their backs, so Vokon and Alastor's bear hadn't smelled the creatures as they came into the road cut. But it was clear now he could see them that they were about to attack, bows being levelled on the travellers in the road cut below...

https://images2.imgbox.com/d8/1b/9ACPDr6r_o.jpg


First up: the initiative group order is as follows:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon, Diana
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi

However, this is a surprise round, so only Aidan (who was the only one to make the Spot/Listen check) and the hobgoblins get to take actions this round. A surprise round is limited to one standard action, it might be noted. As such, ShedShadow, you have 48 hours to post up, or you drop into the initiative group with Arendi. I'll update either on 48 hours' expiry or on Aidan's actions, whichever comes first.

About the terrain and other features not revealed by a 2D map:

- The hobgoblins are each 15 feet off the ground, i.e. you'd need a Reach weapon to hit them from melee at ground level, i.e. on a green square.
- The road itself is cut into the ground. Any movement from a brown square to a green square costs double movement, i.e. 5 feet of movement rather than 10 (or 15 rather than 7.5 if moving diagonally) to reflect the awkwardness of getting up the slope, though there's no penalty or benefit when you go from green to brown. You can't charge or run if your movement has to pass through both brown and green squares.
- The ruined farmhouse is off to the south, but the walls are high enough that, by a combination of the trees and line of sight, nobody can see what, if anything, is within those walls.
- I've omitted Alastor's riding dog for simplicity, but he is indeed riding it, and the parrot is on Vokon's shoulder as said.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
Attack roll [roll0]
Damage roll [roll1]

Possible crit confirm [roll2]

"I suppose you are right on that count. Still, those trees though.. Blasted trees..." As he was walking and scanning the trees, a glint of something reflected sunlight on his left. In his mind's eye, the pieces came together. An ambush, so and so, left and right, this here. He quickly scanned the trees in the positions he expected. Indeed, tiny glimmers of reflected sunlight confirmed his suspicion. As his friends walked and talked, Aidan stopped dead in the road and shouted, "in the trees! To arms!" In one smooth motion he pulled his bow back and loosed an arrow at the first glint he had seen.

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic


Aidan's arrow was in the air before he'd finished speaking, but the wind caught it and sent it whistling past a hobgoblin's head. The drow could see the hobgoblins had bits of green and brown rags tied to their armour - a primitive form of camouflage, but effective it seemed.

He marked the eight or so, a warrior's mind processing what happened in a gestalten blink.

Four of the hobgoblins seemed to clutch the handgrips of their bows, closing their eyes, but doing little else.

The other four, mostly up the front of the travellers' column, hurled tiny objects at them.

Two dirty-looking cloth bags came arcing end over end at Vokon and Arendi. Most of the adventurers recognised the objects at the last second - tanglefoot bags! - but then the little alchemical horrors hit the goliath and the cleric square in their chests, the adhesive substance the items were known for splashing across their bodies. It hardened like steel, and both of them found themselves rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Aerilaya noted something out of the corner of her (one) eye. She was turning towards it, shifting position, thinking it might be another bag--
It wasn't. It was a small grey stonelike blob, no bigger than a pebble, and it whipped in to hit an errant rock on the ground in the pass.
The thunderstone exploded with a CRACK. And that was all that Aerilaya could hear for a good hour. And indeed it was also all that Arendi could hear for an hour too. Alastor (and surprisingly, Dobble the bear) managed to slap their hands over their ears in time to stop being deafened.

Another thunderstone came whipping towards Diana and Aidan, but the hobgoblin's aim was off, and the thunderstone clipped a rock and tumbled harmlessly to the floor of the road cut.

https://images2.imgbox.com/56/cb/O8d5j6tW_o.jpg


Ow.

Two tanglefoot bags and two thunderstones, though Alastor saved against the first thunderstone, and the second thunderstone was a dud throw. (The parrot was out of range of both thunderstones, and it wasn't the target of the tanglefoot bag. The riding dog also made its saves.)

- A red circle indicates a characters is stuck in place and entangled, having failed the saves on tanglefoot bags thrown at them. For easy reference, that means Vokon and Arendi are stuck in place until they make STR checks or do enough damage to themselves to free themselves, but even if they do, they move at half speed and they're entangled, i.e. -2 to attack rolls and -4 to DEX. Note also that it takes Concentration checks to cast as well.
- A yellow triangle means that character is deafened. The changes in initiative are meaningless here, but that character obviously can't hear anything for an hour and there's a 20% spell failure chance for any spell with a verbal component. Yes, the saves have already been rolled.

- Again, a reminder on terrain: any movement from a brown square to a green square costs double movement, i.e. 5 feet of movement rather than 10 (or 15 rather than 7.5 if moving diagonally) to reflect the awkwardness of getting up the slope, though there's no penalty or benefit when you go from green to brown. You can't charge or run if your movement has to pass through both brown and green squares.

That does take us out of the surprise round, though, which leaves everyone now able to act and leaves us with the following initiative order:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon, Diana
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi

As a reminder: you now have 48 hours to post up if your group acts before the hobgoblins (i.e. everyone bar Arendi). Actions are resolved in order of posting made in that 48 hour period. If someone doesn't post in the 48 hours they drop down to Arendi's group.

For ease of reference, the AC you're basically trying to hit is 18 - the hobgoblins don't have shields, but the foliage of the trees gives them a +4 in soft cover.

Good luck!

[Aracor]

Vokon screams in rage, and fear. I will NOT be caged!

He drops his hammer, and flexes mightily to try to break free.
Strength Check: [roll0]

I'm presuming that it takes a full-round action to try to escape. If it's only a standard action, he'll also move to G4. I'm presuming that he can easily identify that they're pretty well surrounded, and that way seems to be the way to get as far from the enemies as possible.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
All shots to Hobgobber 4, using rapid shot

Attack roll 1 [roll0] for [roll1] damage
Attack roll 2 [roll2] for [roll3] damage

Possible crit confirm [roll4]
Possible crit confirm [roll5]

Now no longer cursing under his breath, Aidan raises his bow again. "Blasted TREES!" His guts clench as from the corner as he sees the little bags sailing through the air, gluing much of the caravan stuck to the ground, and his sensitive ears hurt from the blast of the thunderstone. Lucky it missed me, he thinks. Now fixing the figures more clearly in his mind, he releases an arrow, and in a flash releases a second arrow to follow after it.

[A.A.King]

"Blasted trees indeed! I think it is time for a little fire show!!" Alastor said with a grin and he pulled a flask from one of his pockets. "Dottle, show them why you should never climb when fleeing from a bear!". He throws his flask at the nearest hobgoblin as the bear starts growling and moving towards one of the trees.

Alastor draws one the three alchemist fire flasks he has on him as a move action and chucks it at Hobgoblong 2 in (G, -2). Because he is 15 ft. away from me he is 1 range increment away from me, which means a -2 range penalty to my attack. I'm assuming the elevation doesn't add to the distance of the ranged attack, though I may be wrong about that so I wanted to mention it just in case.

Ranged Touch Attack: [roll0]
Alchemist Fire Damage: [roll1]

In the mean time, Alastor commanded Dottle to attack Hobgoblin 7 in (E, 7). He will move towards the tree the hobgoblin is in and, because the goblin is out of reach, he will start climbing the tree. Now, I don't think he can move towards the tree and climb high enough in only a single move action, so he'll have to double move and can't attack next round, but I think he can make it all the way up the tree and be ready to maul that hobgoblin next round.

[Dimers]

Blast ... trees ... fire, Diana thought as a wild combat started around her. She shouted, "Got it!" and, scrambling up from the roadbed, proceeded to give the hobgoblin waylayers a fire show as requested.

Swift action: set dragon shaman aura to fire shield, so if the hobgoblins make melee attacks against anyone within 30' of me, they take 4 fire damage. I'm not clear on how this LOOKS if it's visible at all, so I'm happy to take a cue from the GM IC or anybody OOC.

Move action: walk from (-A, -5) to (E, -5).

Standard action: dragon shaman breath on hobgoblins 2 & 3, Reflex save DC 18 for half of [roll0] fire damage.

Free action: Chuckle at Wisdom 8 interpretation of allies' words.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

”Get off the X!"

Aerilaya bellowed. She didn’t mean to shout but had lost any ability to recognize her own volume due to the continuous ringing in her ears from the initial attack.

Her feet adjusted. Her movements were lighter, more measured. She all but danced up over the lip of the road and into the very tree line the hobgoblins were using to their advantage. It would provide her the same cover while hopefully distracting those closest to her.

20% miss chance (smoking)

Swift - assume Step of Winds stance

Move - to H, -1

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Though taken by surprise, the adventurers responded quickly - those that could. Vokon cracked the tanglefoot goo apart as though it were paper, but started running down the line of the road cut. Diana and Aerilaya went for the trees, Aidan tried another couple of unsuccessful shots. Diana opened her mouth and breathed - fire, that roared through the branches, albeit not fiercely enough to set the leaves aflame, but enough to scorch two of the hobgoblins, who shrieked in pain. The fire was quickly followed by Alastor lobbing a flask of alchemist's fire at one of the hobgoblins, who screamed in pain and seemed about to drop from the tree but -- surprisingly -- held his position.

Then it started to go wrong.

Two of the four hobgoblins who had closed their eyes for a brief moment now opened them and raised their bows. Even from that range, Aidan could see there was something unnaturally precise and seeking about their gazes. And then he noticed red dots appear on his form, and began to turn, looking for--

--two clothyard shafts slammed into him, nicking an artery. The pain of the blows blasted him into darkness.

A third of the hobgoblins turned its bow on Dobble, just then climbing a tree for the last one that had closed its eyes. Again the precise and seeking look. Again the red dot appeared, and a hobgoblin arrow whistled through the air and crashed into the bear's side, bringing an awful roar from the bear. The hobgoblin it was just below took the opportunity to drop its bow, hurriedly pull a short sword from its sheath, and swing at Dobble from the branch, missing the bear from his awkward position by some distance.

The fourth hobgoblin that had closed its eyes turned its bow on Diana, and again the shot sang out. It struck, but the dragonborn's thick skin was made of sterner stuff: the shot penetrated, but did nowhere near as much injury to her.

Aerilaya didn't have much time to process this. She had sprung into the treeline, and the wisdom of that move proved sufficient as two more arrows from the snipers in the trees whistled past her but did no harm.

Still, she had company.

There was motion from beyond the trees, and two four-legged shapes came bounding from around the corner of the abandoned farmhouse. Her first instinct was to categorise them as wolves of some kind, but as they came loping in at her (they snarled and roared, but she could not hear them) she realised these were no wolves that had ever walked the Realms. They were fire-eyed creatures, black, the smell of brimstone wafting from them ... hell hounds, yes, of the kind she'd read about and heard stories about. But different again: they did not so much have fur as scales, for some odd reason, and there was something lizardlike about them.

She didn't have time to contemplate it. Instinct kicked in, and she effortlessly slid the first, snapping set of jaws that tried to latch onto her arm. And then, from the second, she was bathed in fire.
The second hell hound had breathed on her. But the flames that should have burned her black simply washed over her with no more heat in them than a pleasant early summer's day. It seemed there was indeed some truth to Diana's assurances that they'd never have to fear fire so long as the dragonborn was close by.

The hell hound certainly looked surprised by this development, and its hesitation gave Aerilaya a moment to glance past the hell hounds, south.
To their seeming master.
There was another hobgoblin casually walking towards her. Bigger; more muscular than the others. It held two swords lazily by its sides. It clashed them together with a bell-like clang that Aerilaya couldn't hear, and then raised one to point at her with a fierce, evil grin. There were no words necessary; it was challenging her.

https://images2.imgbox.com/cb/3b/MSs3ZPpt_o.jpg

Why yes there is something strange going on here, what made you think that?

Let's get to the important stuff first, i.e. who has the most red juice coming out of them right now.

- Aidan is at -4/28, i.e. he is down and dying. He'll succumb at -10 like all mortal beings if someone doesn't get to him and stabilise him.
- Dobble isn't in much better shape: 12/31. Didn't get an AoO there because the hobgoblin has at least partial cover from him.
- Hobgoblin 2 is at 4/13, Hobgoblin 3 is at 8/13. (In passing, I can add "status bars" to tokens on the map to give an idea of how snotted certain NPCs are, that might make it easier to absorb than me reciting numbers out here.)
- Diana is at 54/66.
- Everyone else is unharmed. Combination of misses and the fact Diana's aura protects Aerilaya against fire damage.

Now, as for the very likely 'how in the Nine Hells did four hobgoblins all roll and confirm critical hits in the same round?' question - well, there is an explanation, and it's not because they're all spellcasters. It's another element of the adventure I'm adding in, one of my ... longstanding interests in one element of the Forgotten Realms in particular. Let me offer a little reassurance that it is not necessarily the case that they'll be hitting you with critical hits each round, notice that there were a bunch of misses in there from those who didn't take a standard action or so ahead of the shots.

Lots of questions, I'm sure, but I'd worry about living through this first.

Group initiative:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon, Diana
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi

danielxcutter has 48 hours to post up. Once he does, I'll resolve the outcome of whatever he does, and then, 48 hours to post from my adjudication. And on we go.

Reminder about terrain: any movement from a brown square to a green square costs double movement, i.e. 5 feet of movement rather than 10 (or 15 rather than 7.5 if moving diagonally) to reflect the awkwardness of getting up the slope, though there's no penalty or benefit when you go from green to brown. You can't charge or run if your movement has to pass through both brown and green squares.

- A red circle indicates a characters is stuck in place and entangled, having failed the saves on tanglefoot bags thrown at them. Characters are stuck in place until they make STR checks or do enough damage to themselves to free themselves, but even if they do, they move at half speed and they're entangled, i.e. -2 to attack rolls and -4 to DEX. Note also that it takes Concentration checks to cast as well. Vokon is not stuck in place, but he's still suffering from the panicked condition - it didn't take a full round action to free himself.
- A yellow triangle means that character is deafened. The changes in initiative are meaningless here, but that character obviously can't hear anything for an hour and there's a 20% spell failure chance for any spell with a verbal component.

[danielxcutter]

This was not a good day for Arendi.

Being ambushed was already bad. Getting glued to the ground and deafened was even worse.

But seeing one of his allies fall, after a chill ran down his spine and he turned around, was even worse - and of all his companions, it was Aiden, the only one of them without a religion.

I don't know if you're a decent man, Aiden... thought the death priest internally - or said out loud, he could hardly tell at this point - as he hurried towards the drow, weaving through the line of pack animals.

There wasn't time for proper healing just yet... but fortunately, Arendi had a spell prepared that just might work, if only he could get the words right.

...But by my lord's blade, I won't let you be damned like this!

He said a few words as soon as he was close enough to invoke the Lord of Death's power - ironically, to keep an ally alive.


I use both move actions to move to (-A, -3), and I use my immediate action to cast Close Wounds!

Making my spell failure check; if I get a 1 on 1d5 that counts as blowing the 20% chance due to deafness.

[roll0]

If successful, I heal 1d4+4 points of damage:

[roll1]

[Aracor]

Vokon continues running down the road, as he's still panicked. Since his movement is restricted, he can't actually take the Run action. So he'll move 40' southeast along the road, which I believe puts him off the edge of the map.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya exhaled a plume of smoke, mixing in with the smoke already enveloping her body. She seemed completely unimpressed by the noiseless challenge. A quick glance to the left and right at the hounds as the muscles in her legs tensed and her hand reached for the sword hanging at her waist

”Ok then. Let's start."

Just like that. She was gone. There were several seconds that passed before she reappeared behind the muscular hobgoblin. Her sword remained in the scabbard.


Swift: Cloak of Deception (greater invisibility)

Move: Move to L, -1

Standard: Mountain Hammer vs flat-footed [roll0]
Damage - [roll1] + [roll2] (ignore dr / hardness)

Iaijutsu Focus check - [roll3]
Damage - [roll4] + [roll5] + [roll6] + [roll7] + [roll8]

Active Effects
Smoking (20% miss chance)

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Arendi's desperate sprint, in full armour down the line of the road cut, paid off. Kelemvor answered his prayer and Aidan gave a sudden, shuddering gasp, back into consciousness...


https://images2.imgbox.com/98/24/AP0P3WWV_o.jpg


- Arendi gets next to Aidan and brings him back to 2/28 hitpoints. Aidan is awake, but he's also prone on the ground.
- Aerilaya actually took 4 hitpoints of damage from the Hell Hound's breath, after Reflex saves were factored in. That brings her to 29/33. And the next problem being that this stuff is ... sticking to her, like napalm. That is, next round she'll suffer another 2 hitpoints of damage.

Group initiative:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon, Diana
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi

That now leaves 48 hours for Aidan, Alastor, and Diana to post up actions. I will take Vokon and Aerilaya's actions as having been posted in this 48 hour period, but that 48 hours stands as from now.

I should also add I'm going to be out of town where internet access is spotty for the next week, so don't expect an update before those 48 hours have passed I think. If there's further problems I will be in touch.

[A.A.King]

Dottle, mad bear that she is, starts mauling the hobgoblin that had attempted to stab her with his sword

In the mean time, Alastor is shouting things across the battle field, to the hobgoblings and his companions. "You won't get to see the circus if you down all the acts!." "You're running the wrong way!" "Get up!". He's clearly getting quite annoyed at this whole 'ambush' thing, this was not part of his grand plan.

He spots a hobgoblin in the trees that so far hasn't been attacked yet and shouts "That one!" to Pogo and as he does a dark bridge appears between them and the tree he is hiding in. "SIC 'EM!" and they start running up the bridge that appeared at the coward hiding in the tree.

Dottle full attacks Hobgoblin 7
Claw 1 Attack: [roll0]
Claw 1 Damage: [roll1]

Claw 2 Attack: [roll2]
Claw 2 Damage: [roll3]

Bite Attack: [roll4]
Bite Damage: [roll5]

Alastor casts "Dark Way" as a standard action and as a move action tells Pogo to attack Hobgoblin 1. (Using one of my two 2nd level spells per day)

Pogo EITHER uses a move action to move to (D, -6) and attacks as a standard action OR charges if he is allowed to charge across the Dark Way (might be to steep for a charge, not sure what the rules are regarding that). Either way, if he hits his bite he'll go for a free trip attempt and hoping that being tripped while in a tree means you fall down
Bite Attack: [roll6] (add +2 if charging is allowed)
Bite Damage: [roll7]
Trip Attempt: [roll8] (only if the bite hits).

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
Stand up using a move action
Standard action to use 3 charges on my healing belt: [roll0] as healing


"Duuh ... Whuy..." Groggily, Aidan sits up, instantly recognizes the shouting, the sound of bowstrings twanging, the roar of enemies, the weighing of panicked animals, but mostly he recognizes he is in a lot of pain. Right. He gets up, clutching his bow, then figures he ought to do something about the pain. He mumbles something that sounds like "Belt, oh, belt, please heal my welt", but that would be far too silly to say at such a serious time, so anyone who might have heard that was obviously mistaken. Instantly the pain eases and Aidan keeps an eye out for incoming arrows, readying his bow and picking his mark.

[Dimers]

Momentarily ignoring the pain from the arrow, Diana moves to fight fire with frost, blasting at one of the hellhounds with a scintillating line of sheer cold.

I've been debating what to do. A double hit seems like the best option again; maybe it'll attract more attention onto me. Move from (E, -5) to (G, -3) and breathe on hound1 and the bladebearer. [roll0] cold damage, Reflex save DC 18 for half.

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The combat intensified.

Alastor charged Pogo up the gleaming black ramp he had created, but the riding dog's swing on the hobgoblin caught only air. The hobgoblin, though, pulled a short sword, dropping his bow, and swung hard at Alastor himself, his reach unexpectedly good ... and caught the circusmaster a heavy cut across the temple, drawing blood.

Aerilaya called on the training and the power such as she'd been given, acting on instinct, the battlefield silent except for the smell of fear and fire. For a flickering moment, she was invisible, and darted around behind the hobgoblin with two swords, the great sword murmuring its pleasure silently in her mind as it slashed out and cut the hobgoblin a good one across his back. The bladebearing hobgoblin staggered, turning with a venomous look on its face.

Dottle lashed and caught the hobgoblin above a good one, drawing harsh cry of pain - but the hobgoblin still held its ground.

A blast of cold air filled the area north of the ruined farmhouse, and with a dying howl, one of the hellhounds fell, blistered cold and dying instantly from Diana's breath. The edges of the blast also caught the twin-bladed hobgoblin, again drawing a grimace of pain from him. The other hell hound bounded away, sweeping around behind Aerilaya, snapping its jaws ineffectually at the quick woman.

Arrows arced in at Diana. Even in the foliage as she was, two of them cracked home, drawing more blood from her. Another arrow thunked in at Dobble, drawing another roar of pain from the bear as it fought on.

Aidan shook his head as he got to his feet, touching his Healing Belt, the terrible wounds closing immediately. That was when he noticed it - as did Diana and mostly everyone else - on a promontory above the road cut, off to the south. The air rippled, and another hobgoblin appeared. This one, though, was clad in a combination of armour and robes, and some indistinct marking was daubed on the robes. The hobgoblin peered at Aerilaya, and a wolfish grin came across the monster's face.
"Silly hu-man girl likes to play with swords! it grated, and raised its eyes to the heavens for a moment, then pointed fatefully at Aerilaya.

The one-eyed girl didn't notice this, mainly because she was already watching the twin-sworded hobgoblin's every move. All she did notice was that her one remaining eye now went dark as well. She was blinded.

A little down the road cut, Vokon was still running, the panic possessing him fully. So he was completely surprised when three more hobgoblins came screaming out of the woods east of the road cut, swinging short swords at him. Two of them connected and cut in deeply ... but the last shards of the grasping goo's contents also fell away, and he could feel the panic dissolving from him.

https://images2.imgbox.com/08/ae/Cl0oWrNc_o.jpg


- Aidan is standing and is back at full health.
- Aerilaya is now blinded as well as deafened.
- Vokon takes total of 15 damage from the new entries. However, I am also ruling that this does sufficient damage to crack the tanglefoot bag goo enough that he's no longer entangled, and thus shouldn't be suffering from the panicked condition.
- Diana takes total of 12 damage.
- Dobble takes 3 damage. Puts him at 9/31 by my count.
- Alastor takes 9 damage.

Group initiative:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon, Diana
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi

48 hours for Arendi to post up actions.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi sighed, though not being able to hear it somewhat dampened the effect.

Lord Kelemvor, why?

Of course, griping wouldn't change anything. He moved closer to the right group of archers while drawing a tanglepatch from his magical backpack, and flicked it into one of the trees.

Arendi uses his move action to go to square (B,0) while drawing his Tanglepatch out of his Handy Haversack, and throws it into the tree Hobgoblin 5 is in. It doesn't seem there's an attack roll required, since it's tagging an area and not a specific target.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
Standard action to use my amber amulet of vermin (Giant Stag Beetle (http://dndsrd.net/monstersVermin.html#giant-stag-beetle)) which will appear in G2-H3 (Large creature). The beetle immediately attacks the cleric with its bite attack.

Bite the hobgoblin cleric [roll0] for [roll1]


Then I use my move action to close on the trees at -A,-7, hopefully getting some cover.


Now thinking clearly again, Aidan felt it was time to call forth the beast he kept hidden away in shows, and indeed, most of all the other times. Some of the people in the troupe had never seen it before. The only thing was, all the enemies were in trees, and this beast was most effective when enemies were close together. Still, an ally is an ally. Now where to put it? And then, suddenly, it just seemed that a target had presented itself, flashy robes and boasting and all. "Let's see how you like a beetle with your afternoon delight." Aidan closed his eyes, touching the drop of amber hanging around his neck and speaking the dark language of the underelves. With a crack and a flash, a beetle the size of a bear appeared in the middle of the road, its mandibles clicking, immediately attempting to bite down on whatever moved and was the closest. Aidan smiled, and made a run for the western trees, hoping to at least be able to find cover from the arrows coming from the west side of the road.

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Arendi ran down the line of the road cut again, and this time hurled the small tanglepatch he'd been hanging onto.

The item burst open against the tree it had been aimed at, and immediately the powers crafted in the bag took flight. The woods all around the tree exploded into activity. The entire east side of the road cut erupted into sudden, incredible growth. Grass lengthened to branch length, and began to twist and form runners; branches lengthened and twined; every leaf thickened and burst into ten more. Even in the dusty, dying area of the road cut, seeds blown to the dust to a dry fate suddenly erupted with new life. The growth was so rapid that even Arendi was caught within the burst of the effect, but his god's favour was still with him, and he was not entangled or affected by the sudden bloom of life.

Neither, surprisingly, were any of the hobgoblins, or Dobble, also caught in the roar of plant life. They agilely managed to avoid getting caught, but on the other hand neither was Dobble suddenly entangled either.

https://images2.imgbox.com/0e/86/TV3yEWSE_o.jpg

As said, the hobgoblins each make their saves, as does Dobble. Not entangled, but they have a chance of getting entangled again every round for a good minute or so. It is a forty-foot radius effect. Most notably, Vokon's hammer is also within the radius of the effect if he wants to get armed with it (albeit he may not have to.) The green circle sets out the radius of the effect - I don't have any overlays that better describe what happened, but hopefully this helps tell people where things are.

And yes, generally it's preferred to await the update so I can keep the rounds straight, but I'll take Aidan's action as going first in this round.

Group initiative:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon, Diana
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi

48 hours for Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon, and Diana to post up.

[Aracor]

Vokon's mind clears. His primary weapon is behind him, and yet he has three targets in front of him. They were kind enough to rip apart that binding tendrils of the tanglefoot bag, but they were also attacking him.

He calls out to his allies, giving advice for how to hit hard and fast, then draws one of the light hammers in his bandoleer, and swings at the first.

Vokon will switch stances to Leading the Charge. Any ally within 60 feet of him will get a +5 bonus damage on any charge attack they make.
He draws his hammer as a move action, and attacks the Hobgoblin at N6.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]


As pointed damage, damage is +1 if that strike actually hit. Probably doesn't matter much, but we'll see.

[A.A.King]

Dottle keeps trying to rip the closest hobgoblin to shreads, while Alastor draws his whip and Pogo keeps biting the hobgoblin she had charged across the dark way.

Dottle full attacks Hobgoblin 7
Claw 1 Attack: ][roll0]
Claw 1 Damage: [roll1]

Claw 2 Attack: [roll2]
Claw 2 Damage: [roll3]

Bite Attack: [roll4]
Bite Damage: [roll5]

Alastor uses a move action to draw his whip so that next turn he can try and switch some things around with the eternal wand of benign transposition that is in it

Pogo attacks as a standard action and if he hits his bite he'll go for a free trip attempt and hoping that being tripped while in a tree means you fall down
Bite Attack: [roll6]
Bite Damage: [roll7]
Trip Attempt: [roll8] (only if the bite hits).

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya didn't panic when her whole world went dark. It was troubling that the cleric was able to hide from her so well, but that would have to be addressed later. Having lost two of her senses, she form shifted to a more feral stance.

She sniffed the air lightly. Her opponents hadn't repositioned. That was a mistake. She realigned herself slightly to place her back against the wall of the old farmhouse before striking out again at the sword-wielding hobgoblin with a lightning fast draw of the blade. It seemed to return to the sheath before ever even completing the cut.


Swift: Change stance to Hunter's Sense (scent)

Free: 5 foot step to K, -2

Standard: Sapphire Nightmare Blade
Concentration vs AC [roll0]
Attack vs Flat-footed [roll1]

Miss Chance (50% - high miss) [roll2] / [roll3]
Blind-fight reroll [roll4]

Damage - [roll5] + [roll6]

Iaijutsu Focus check - [roll7]
Damage - [roll8] + [roll9] + [roll10] + [roll11] + [roll12]

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)
Smoking (20% miss chance)

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

A giant beetle appeared in the midst of the road cut, much to the surprise of those members of Alastor's circus who hadn't seen the creature before. It appeared, as it happened, right next to the robed hobgoblin. Before the hobgoblin had a chance to turn, the creature had smashed a cruel-looking beetle antler into the caster's side, drawing a shriek of pain from the robed one. But the caster didn't fall. It put a fist against its ruined side, and shrieked out: "You will pay, scum! The Kulkor Zhul will feed your bodies to the vultures!"

Wait - Kulkor Zhul? That was no hobgoblin word, that was from Draconic - it meant people of the dragon...

The cry brought an answering howl of bloodlust from the hobgoblins around them. And for those brief seconds it seemed to make them a lot harder to hit; Alastor and his animals caught nothing but air, and mighty Vokon's massive swing didn't hit any of the three hobgoblins up against him. Worse still, they seemed to be more effective than the average hobgoblin: they had steel shields, but were working them together, forming a short but strong shield wall among them...

Alastor caught another strike from the hobgoblin in the tree with him, though, his blood pouring over his saddle. The pain was immense.

Aerilaya didn't hear any of this, of course; she was too busy trying to stay alive. Instinct and long training wheeled her in against the house, and she hit stance the second her rear heel touched against stone, the long blade flashing like lightning in a storm in one cut, O-Sendaiyo-shin-kyo, the Sapphire Nightmare cut. Her muscles assured her of the movement and she had some satisfaction as she felt the blade slam into the hobgoblin's bowels, as she'd been taught. She didn't hear the hobgoblin's shriek of pain, but somehow felt him moving to flank her along with the accursed hell hound from the other side.

Also not anticipated was the little chuckle she felt inside her head. A peculiar little chuckle. Not human, not hobgoblin. More ... metallic, somehow. Mocking. And for a fleeting, half-second, she had a feeling it was originating from her sword hand. Then it was gone. She moved again, on instinct; Ko-senshi, the Shield of Grass Blade, and the big sword did its work. She couldn't hear the ring of steel on steel, but felt the impact of the hobgoblin's weapon against her own ... and then a red flash of pain as she missed the other short sword and it slashed in at her side. Not fatal; not helpful either. She could continue the fight, though unless the others did something there was only so much even someone trained to fight blinded and deafened could do...

The air was filling with arrows, but at least the hobgoblins' aim didn't appear to be up to scratch right at this moment; none found their marks on either Dobble or indeed on Diana. And despite forming up in a steel cordon around Vokon, none of the cruel, stabbing movements of the three hobgoblins found their target, a combination of the big goliath's sudden, instinctive dodges and effortless blocks with the comically small hammer in his hand.

Still, the two hobgoblins closest to Diana - she noticed - didn't actually loose any shafts. They did something similar to what four of the others had - they seemed to grip parts of their bows for a moment, and closed their eyes, swaying on their perches...

The robed hobgoblin was backing away from the giant beetle. Costly; the beetle once more lashed with its horns and a massive, pouring wound appeared in the hobgoblin's side. But the caster still managed to stagger back from the road cut, towards Diana. The hobgoblin's eyes widened as it finally got a solid look at Diana. "Hated one! Servant of the hated one!" the creature screamed, but abruptly closed its eyes and looked again to the heavens ... and the air shimmered ever so slightly around all the hobgoblins on the west side of the road cut. She hadn't healed their wounds, but they looked to be somehow ... a little more vital in some way.

https://images2.imgbox.com/f4/a6/PAdk5uvs_o.jpg


So the summary:
- Aerilaya takes 8 damage from one strike that still got through of the full attack rained on her, and another 2 from the clinging, napalm-ish breath of the hell hound from the previous round, though that's all there. (The bit about the chuckling is nothing from the enemy - it may just be related to that cursed sword you are carrying around, you can build off it if you like.)
- Alastor takes another 5 damage. That brings him down to 23/37 by my count.
- Amazingly, Dobble isn't dead. Not one arrow has hit yet.
- Vokon takes no hits, though he'd recognise the hobgoblins' techniques as Phalanx Fighting, i.e. extra AC when they're adjacent and all holding shields.
- Basically, it looks like the hobgoblins on the west side of the road had Mass Aid cast on them, which might make it harder to kill. Hobgoblins on the east side will get another chance at being entangled on Arendi's next turn, which is shortly.
- The dual-wielder looks bloodied, and the robed hobgoblin is in worse shape. He took an AoO from the giant stag beetle to get where he is.

Group initiative, given who posted and who didn't:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Diana, Arendi.

This leaves danielxcutter and Dimers with 48 hours to post up actions as of now, and I'll update following on from that.

Happy to discuss or clarify if needed anywhere.

[danielxcutter]

This was bad, bad, bad.

Arendi let out a yell that he couldn't hear as the effects of the thrown tanglepatch spread out explosively, much, much farther than he'd expected. Fortunately Kelemvor's blessing was still with him, but it'd wear off soon... and it seemed it hadn't actually pinned down any of the hobgoblins on this side of the road either.

Taking a quick look around, the death priest gritted his teeth - he'd planned to help the bear clean up the four archers before helping the others, but it seemed that wouldn't be so easy, especially with all the plant growth.

Still, there was still a chance to do both. He moved around the frontmost camel - he could never recall which was which, to be honest - pulled out his blade, and let out a wordless cry as he rose the weapon towards the heavens.

Arendi moves to square (D,3), draws his bastard sword, and casts Bless. That should probably work on everyone except for Vokon(and maybe some of the pack animals.

Rolling 1d5; 1 is failure for deafness.

[roll0]

Also, Arendi automatically gets access to Shield Block now, and thus has all his maneuvers granted.

[Dimers]

Too much going on. Screaming all around, allies and enemies both ... more combatants popping up unexpectedly, also both friend and foe ... After a costly delay, Diana let go of trying to figure it out and fell back on basic battle training. Kill the casters first, that's what wiser souls dictate. And so she did, zipping between the trees to blast fire at the wounded robed hobgoblin and one of his friends.


Walk from (G, -3) to (E, -2) to breathe fire at the cleric and Hob3. [roll0] fire, Reflex DC 18 for half. I now also threaten the cleric (if he lives). And I left room for the beetle to keep attacking him, and I probably piss him off just by existing. :smalltongue:

EDIT: That leaves me, Alastor and Aerilaya in my fire retribution aura.

Forgot again last round to check for breath weapon recharge. So:
racial breath ready again in Round [roll1]
class breath ready again in Round [roll2]

[roll3] for [roll4] damage, one of which is fire.

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Arendi's wordless cry to his god went unanswered, his conviction failing for a crucial moment, the words garbled in his deafness.

Diana came striding through the treeline and unleashed her breath; the robed hobgoblin and one of the hobgoblins in the trees screamed in pain as fire roared over her. But the robed one's spell had protected them enough that neither of them were overcome with it. That said, Diana, within striking distance of the robed one, could now make out the rough but clear symbol daubed on the hobgoblin's tunic.

It was a star made of five reaching claws, each claw a different shade, each shade the colour of a chromatic dragon. Most dragonborn, let alone those devoted to Bahamut, knew that symbol. And now the robed hobgoblin's sudden hatred had a clear cause: it was the symbol of the one sometimes called She Who Breathes, sometimes the Dark Queen, but known to dragonborn by her true name, the name of the goddess: Tiamat, goddess of chromatic dragons.

Meanwhile, around Arendi, the plants continued to surge and twist and crackle as they sought to entrap the living forms in the trees.

Two hobgoblins failed to escape them this time, the branches wrapping around them, enfolding them tightly. Uno and Deux, the two camels, also roared wordlessly as they were snared. Two more hobgoblins, including the one swinging at Dobble, were not caught.

Dobble was also caught. Branches whipped around and caught the bear, drawing a roar of pained rage as the black bear fought to escape.

https://images2.imgbox.com/d0/bd/hJEvqNDs_o.jpg

Blue circles indicate who's entangled.

Group initiative:

First: Aidan, Aerilaya, Alastor, Vokon
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi, Diana

48 hours for the first group to post, which begins to run from now.

[Aracor]

I think it'll be better for us to fight as a group rather than me be separated here all alone. You're going to have to play catch-up! I wish I could finish off that spellcaster, but I'll aim for the next best thing!

Swift action: Activate Anklet of Translocation. Teleport to K7.
Full-round action: Charge to J-1. That should let him attack the Bladebearer. Let's see if we can force some of these creatures to yield the playing field.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
Giant Stag Beetle (http://dndsrd.net/monstersVermin.html#giant-stag-beetle) will charge the bladebearer.

Bite the hobgoblin bladebearer [roll0] for [roll1]. The beetle has -2 AC for this round. (Beetle Confirm [roll2])

Aidan shoots the hobgoblin cleric at F-1 with rapid shot

Shot 1 [roll3] for [roll4]
Shot 2 [roll5] for [roll6]

Confirm 1 [roll7]
Confirm 2 [roll8]


This was looking worse by the moment. At least the spellcaster was momentarily distracted, so perhaps Aidan would be able to finish him off. Taking his time to stand next to the tree, at least partially shielded from the archers on the west side, he pulled back the string on the Blackbow. This was going to turn the tide. It was now or never. Breathing out, he found his mark, and then released the arrow. Watching his first arrow in flight, he loosed another, aimed at the same spot. "You better drippin' fall this time, scum."

Meanwhile, somewhere further down the road, the giant beetle, after having bitten the cleric something fierce, charged off further down the road, having seen some enemies to pursue. The beetle charged straight at the hobgoblins, his full weight bearing down on them, catching them under his bulk.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya felt a twinge of panic. There was no help coming. Only darkness and silence. Not silence exactly, there was a voice. The laugh seemed to be chiding her, it reminded her of her mother. The thought forced her to bite down hard on the pipe held in her teeth.

Her sword in the sheath, she reached behind her to grasp the furred neck of the hound that continued to harass her. Kaze-ni-mau-ha. Leaf on the wind. A pivot of her feet and a shifting of her hips would be all that was required to send the canine flying over the head of the bladebearer.


Standard: Mighty Throw
Touch Attack [roll0]

Miss Chance (50% - high miss) [roll1] / [roll2]
Blind-fight reroll [roll3]

Trip Attempt - [roll4]

Hellhound moved to I,-2 and prone

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)
Smoking (20% miss chance)

[A.A.King]

Alastor has heard enough of the cries of anguish of his beloved bear companion, it's time she got out of there. He dismounts from the dog with a surprisingly graceful jump from such a fat man. While this man has given into vice, it's clear that he used to be more actively involved with the performance of these animals. Pogo continues snapping his jaws at the hobgoblin that keeps attacing Alastor while Alastor cracks his whip

Dottle is a little confused and worried about these strange plants growing all over her, and just desperately fights back against the hobgoblin, against the tree, against anything and everything that she can get within her mad claws. Until suddenly, she is no longer there and Alastor is instead clinging to the tree and she is now standing behind her friend Pogo on the dark bring.

Dottle continues her mad full attack against the hobgoblin, but now with an extra -2 Penalty from being entangled.
Claw 1 Attack: [roll0]
Claw 1 Damage: [roll1]

Claw 2 Attack: [roll2]
Claw 2 Damage: [roll3]

Bite Attack: [roll4]
Bite Damage: [roll5]

Pogo similarly continues his attack against the hobgoblin, hopefully hitting this time.
Bite Attack: [roll6]
Bite Damage: [roll7]
Trip Attempt: [roll8] (only if the bite hits)

Alastor dismounts as a move action to (C, -4). Or whatever square is right behind Pogo on the dark way. He then as a standard action activates his Eternal Wand of Benign Transposition that is in the Wand Chamber of his Whip that he drew last round to switch the locations of Dottle and himself. I've tempted faith enough, the bear needs to get out of that tree

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The three hobgoblins assailing Vokon looked around for a brief second after he disappeared, but spotted him quickly enough. One was fast enough to swipe wildly at him, but the blow with the short sword missed and Vokon was already running towards the ruined farmhouse with hammer in hand…

The hobgoblins began to turn to follow him—as the ground suddenly shook under their feet. They turned to see the giant stag beetle bearing down on them, ten feet long, lowering its sharp horns for the attack.

The three of them didn’t run. They instead slammed their shields together, raised short swords, bracing. “We are Kulkor Zhul! Our Queen is watching!” screamed one, and the other two gave answering, defiant snarls…

… as half a ton of giant stag beetle ran over them in a cloud of dust, leaving only broken masses of bone and blood behind them. They did not have enough time to swing a blade.

Vokon didn’t look behind him. He was too busy running. For a fleeting moment he was back on the mountain slopes, among the Nugalatha, running on inclines of sixty degrees in clear mountain air, the wind chilling his bared head. The dip of the road cut was ahead of him, and the goliath took a half-second in his stride to bunch legs thick as tree trunks below him, and vaulted, sailing through the air, clean over to the other side of the road cut, landing light as a feather. He cleared the last ten feet in two massive, loping strides and wheeled the little hammer through the air.

The block of its head cracked into the twin-sworded hobgoblin’s shoulder, drawing a grunt of pain from the monster, and a moment’s respite for Aerilaya. Unbelievably, the blow didn’t kill the beast. Aerilaya’s hand lashed out at the hell hound next to her, which danced aside, skittered to the corner of the farmhouse, and breathed. The fire roared across Aerilaya, Vokon, and the twin-sworded hobgoblin, who screeched aloud. But the screech contained no despair – only a note of rage, as if the hobgoblin were driving himself on through the pain.

Vokon took a precious second to pat out the flaming jelly that had hit him, the sting of its burn all across him. When he looked again, the hobgoblin had turned to him. Its body was a mess. Blood streamed from several gaping wounds, which presumably had been the work of Aerilaya’s swift sword. The hobgoblin coughed blood, rang its swords together, and grinned. “So! Will you challenge me, gulat! Good! You will be more challenge than stupid hu-man girl!” Gulat was a word Vokon had heard before – the derisive, goblinoid word for goliath. The hobgoblin breathed deep, raising its weapons, dropping into a stance … and Vokon realised it had been trained in the Sublime Way as well. Blood in the Water, a part of him realised.

And the hobgoblin attacked. Sweat poured down its face. Even badly wounded, its blades spun and danced like birds, coming on with a furious energy, as though the creature were putting its last effort into the assault. Vokon danced just as quickly, his small hammer working and twisting … but with one lightning slash, one of the short swords dug into Vokon’s side. A lance of pain went through the goliath’s lung. Not a fatal wound, but a deep one.

A flare of fire crackled across the hobgoblin’s form; Diana’s blessing gave retribution for the injury. The hobgoblin, close up on Vokon, hissed audibly, snarled through lips that were burning off, and lashed out one last time with its second blade. Vokon, distracted, couldn’t get his hammer to it, and the second blade cut in too – not as badly, but bad enough. Again, Diana’s aura flared, and with a final shriek of pain, the hobgoblin’s face burned black, and the monster collapsed to the ground at Vokon’s feet.

North, on the side of the road cut, cleric of Tiamat and dragonborn of Bahamut finally confronted one another. The hobgoblin screamed her hatred, brandishing an evil-looking pick. “Weakling dragongirl! the hobgoblin shrieked--

A bow thrummed twice, the air screamed, and ended with two thunks. The hobgoblin cleric had two arrows protruding from her leg and arm, and hissed in pain – but did not fall. Aidan lowered the Blackbow, letting the breath out as he’d been taught, satisfied with the shot.
“Kulkor Zhul!” the cleric cried instead. “Kill the defiler! Kill the hated one!”
From the trees, arrows whistled. Two buzzed through the air and sank deep into Diana’s shoulders at the joint. Bombs of pain blasted through the dragonborn’s body, blood pouring from her. She pushed through the haze of pain just in time to see the cleric grinning. “Now, defiler, you will know what it means for She Who Breathes to crush your heart!”
The cleric closed her eyes for a split second, murmuring. On instinct, Diana slashed at her with her blade – but missed. Grinning smugly, the hobgoblin opened her eyes and opened a hand towards Diana.

Diana’s heart stopped.
Or skipped a beat.
The pressure within it was terrible, as though some force were crushing her. All strength drained from her limbs, and she struggled to breathe, her heart aching with sudden pain…
And the hobgoblin cleric grinned, limbering up her heavy pick, getting ready to swing at the helpless dragonborn.

Further north, arrows still whipped through the air as Alastor shifted position with Dobble. The circusmaster was immediately grabbed by the branches and reaching leaves, but the gods at least were with him enough to keep the hobgoblin’s blade from catching his throat. They were all still alive – for the moment.

https://images2.imgbox.com/1c/e3/zAXY22Sb_o.jpg


In summary:
- Diana takes a total of 36 damage, putting her at 18/66 by my count. She is also helpless and can’t take actions for 1 round due to the Heartache spell.
- Vokon takes 21 damage after DR is applied, putting him at 29/57 by my count.
- Aerilaya takes 4 damage this round and 2 next round (despite being blinded and deafened, she still made her Reflex save).

But at least it’s a successful round, the bladebearer is down and dead and the stag beetle took down 3 hobgoblins all by itself. Hobgoblin cleric is still standing (Diana’s AoO missed BTW). All the other hobgoblins have fired or are still trying to free themselves from the entanglement they’re in.

Group Initiative:
First: Aidan, Alastor, Aerilaya, Vokon
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Diana, Arendi (though Diana is helpless and can’t take actions)

48 hours for Arendi to post up, then I’ll update on his action.

[danielxcutter]

"Alastor!" the death priest yelled in surprise. Sure, the bear was in serious trouble, but he certainly hadn't expected the ringmaster to do THAT.

Of course, it was looking like he wouldn't be doing much better... though at least the others seemed to be having better luck.

Lord Kelemvor, I know I haven't been the most devout of priests, but please help us. Arendi thought, saying the words to another prayer - that to invoke perhaps a small fraction of the power of his god's blade, Fatal Edge.

Move to square (E,7), attempt to cast Spiritual Weapon to attack Hobgoblin 7 if possible, or if not Hobgoblin 5.

Spell roll check; 1 is failure:

[roll0]

Spiritual Weapon attack roll:

[roll1]

Spiritual Weapon critical hit confirmation roll(if necessary):

[roll2]

Spiritual Weapon damage roll:

[roll3]

Spiritual Weapon critical hit damage roll(if necessary):

[roll4]

If Arendi counts as adjacent to Alastor for the purposes of Shield Block, he'll use his immediate action to protect the ringmaster.

[Dimers]

Diana gasped helplessly for breath, her shield hand pressed hard against her breastplate. It was impossible to even think, never mind taking action to show up this priest of "She Who Breathes".

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

This time the god heard Arendi.

A shadowy, wavering image of a great bastard sword appeared behind the hobgoblin in the tree. Its transparent, blurred blade plunged into the hobgoblin's back. The monster stiffened, lost its grip, and fell wordlessly from the tree, making an awful thump as it struck the ground at Arendi's feet. Not that the cleric could hear it, still deafened.

https://images2.imgbox.com/3a/76/3nJUngjE_o.jpg

Alastor and Arendi are in the same spot. Doge-o, er, Pogo has now been inserted.
Yes I know it's not the right breed, will sort next time :)

Group Initiative:
First: Aidan, Alastor, Aerilaya, Vokon
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Diana, Arendi (though Diana is helpless and can’t take actions)

Aidan, Alastor, Aerilaya, and Vokon have 48 hours to post up actions.

[Aracor]

Vokon shudders as the Bladebearer cuts him twice, but uses his armor to keep each strike from being lethal. Unexpectedly, his foe falls after striking him due to fiery explosions.

He glances around, and is about to move toward the firebreathing dog, but then he realizes that Diana is frozen entirely.

Leave her ALONE!

To emphasize his point, he launches himself at the cleric.

Charge to G-1
[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
Giant Stag Beetle (http://dndsrd.net/monstersVermin.html#giant-stag-beetle) double move to H1.

Aidan Rapdi shots
One arrow at the cleric [roll0] for [roll1]
And one arrow at hobgoblin 1 at D-7 [roll2] for [roll3]

Confirm 1 [roll4]
Confirm 2 [roll5]


Aidan watches as both his arrows hit his mark. There is a reason he is the wearer of the Blackbow and not another. Then, to his dismay, he sees Diana fall to the floor, paralyzed. Vokon charges from the woods, but Aidan is not willing to let that be Diana's only chance. Controlling his breath, Aidan launches an arrow at the cleric, and turns away to fire another arrow at one of the goblins in the trees.

The beetle comes back up the road, in its rage looking for more things to squash, and walking up to a goblin in a tree.

[A.A.King]

"Now the darn trees are attacking us too!" Alastor grumbled loudly, things were not going well. At least with the tree holding on to him he didn't have to hold on to it, so he used his free hand to grab the second of his alchemist flasks. His movement was limited, but he still chucked towards the nearest hobgoblin. He'd either burn down the goblin or he'd burn down the tree, both were fine with him. "Burn you little @%#&*!"

In the mean time, Pogo kept snapping at the hobgoblin in the tree, still trying to pull him out of there. Dobble was still a little shaken up from being attacked by the tree branches, but now she was at a different place. Seeing her friend fighting with another of these vicious creatures she gives of a large growl. Pogo moves behind Dobble and lets the motherbear attack. Pogo moves of the darkway, looking for his boss that suddenly vanished.

As a move action, Alastor draws a flask of alchemist fire (he only has 1 left on him) and as a standard action he throws it towards Hobgoblin 6. 25 ft away, so -4 from Range increment for a total penalty of -6 thanks to being entangled. This gives me a total of +0 for ranged attacks, but it's a touch attack so I like to think I have a chance. One of the rolls has to go well right?
Ranged Touch Attack:
Alchemist Fire Damage Roll: 1d6+1
Pogo uses a standard action to once again bite and try to trip this hobgoblin.
Bite Attack: [roll1]
Bite Damage: [roll2]
Trip Attempt: [roll3] (only if the bite hits)
After that he uses a move action to move off the Darkway to (D, -2). Staying out of the entangle range for now

Finally, Dobble, though hurt, has her maternal instincts kick in, she fights through the pain, makes a 5 ft. step to wear the dog had been (D, -6) and lunches at the hobgoblin that had been fighting it (that at this point may or may not be tripped). She is no longer entangled as so can unleash her full force.
Claw 1 Attack: [roll4]
Claw 1 Damage: [roll5]

Claw 2 Attack: [roll6]
Claw 2 Damage: [roll7]

Bite Attack: [roll8]
Bite Damage: [roll9]

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya felt the flames wash over her, though able to read the changes in temperature to avoid a direct blast. She could smell the singed flesh of her enemy. They were not above friendly fire. Insanity.

She smelled the sparks and metal shavings from the resounding hammer against sword. There was a sudden stillness, along with an earthy scent of mountain air. "... Vokon... is that you?" A hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword. The demon hound still lingered within range of her nose, the brimstone was unmistakable.

She took a moment to focus at the task at hand, at least keeping the enemy before her from running off to harry others.


Full Round: Adaptive Style maneuver recovery

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Three whistling shafts from the trees towards Diana went wide, two clipping against branches and falling away harmlessly, spent. The third thunked into the ground at Diana’s foot. Then Vokon came storming through the trees, small branches breaking around him and roaring at the top of his voice like an oncoming wave, brandishing his light hammer. But the Dark Queen seemed to still be with the cleric, and the goliath’s head-caving strike whistled narrowly past the cleric's temple. Two more buzzing shots from the Blackbow went despairingly wide of their targets.

The hobgoblin cleric smiled at Vokon, grimly, knowingly, with yellowed teeth. “Gulat! See how your pathetic champion dies!”
She lashed out with the hardened pick, its steel gleaming.
The superbly forged head cracked through Diana’s armour and drank deep of her vital organs. She couldn’t move, but the ache of her heart was now overridden by a shrieking pain in her gut as the pick tore open her intestine. Blood gushed from the wound, and she knew she couldn’t take another strike like that.

North of their position, the tanglepatch’s grasping branches erupted again … and this time, snared the remaining hobgoblin that hadn’t yet been caught. The monster snarled, turning its attentions to trying to free itself. Even so, Alastor’s alchemical fire went wide of its mark and tumbled to break harmlessly on the ground. But it was a better story over with his animals: Pogo lashed out and caught the hobgoblin on the leg, drawing a grunt of pain from it. It wasn’t a fatal blow, but the fall out of the tree certainly was. The hobgoblin lost its balance and screamed all the way down, but the screaming stopped with a final, sickening crack as he hit.

Aerilaya heard and saw none of this. She instead had taken a moment of calm, centring herself, allowing the darkness and the silence to support her as she sought the Void. The smell of brimstone rose for a second, but the Void was comforting, and she effortlessly shifted position, dropping one shoulder, twisting one hip, shifting one foot, and the stink of burning rock receded.

The hell hound snarled in frustration; its prey had somehow, somehow, managed to avoid his strike even though it knew she could see and hear nothing.

https://images2.imgbox.com/37/ff/zoG9h2xy_o.jpg
Summary of things that happened:
- Diana took a critical hit. No, not a coup de grace, just a normal attack, Vokon’s arrival meant she thought she’d just try her luck seeing as her death is likely impending. I closed my eyes when I saw the cleric had pulled a natural 19 on her attack and then well above 16 on the confirmation. Given the damage was 4d6+4, though, it could’ve been worse: Diana by my count takes 15 hitpoints of damage which puts her at 3/66.
- Pogo’s trip came off, and if falling damage didn’t finish the hobgoblin off, Dobble likely would have anyway, so that’s one more hobgoblin down.
- All hobgoblins are now entangled on the far side of the road, meaning they’ve stopped shooting and are just trying to free themselves from their entanglements.
- Yes, I’m afraid those were misses from Vokon and Aidan. The AC you’re aiming at for the cleric is 18. Again, this is really the worst luck I’ve seen a party have in this sort of encounter.
- Aerilaya dodges yet another attack from a hell hound while blind and deaf, thus getting a further +1 to her Extreme Cool stat.
- Not mentioned above, but the tanglefoot bag’s goo has worn off Arendi, so if he clears the tanglepatch by the end of this round that’ll mean he’s only deafened, not entangled (his FoM effect will terminate at the end of his turn).

Group initiative, then, is as follows:
First: Aidan, Vokon, Alastor, Aerilaya
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi, Diana (and Diana can act now.)

Dimers and danielxcutter have 48 hours to post up their actions.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi smirked as the translucent blade slew the archer threatening the ringmaster, albeit bitterly - it was good that the fight was finally turning in their favor, but he'd never enjoyed slaying living beings.

Even that, though, was wiped off his face by the blow the other cleric dealt to the dragonborn.

Damn it! he swore internally, gritting his teeth - if he could, he'd have ran to her aid, but there just wasn't time... and that would leave Alastor to fend off the archers alone. They were hardly in any shape to attack him, but the halfling was hardly in better shape.

He flicked his blade to the side, guiding the immaterial counterpart to one of the archers, and headed towards the one in the center, praying to Kelemvor all the while.

My lord, thank you for the help but please help my friends as well, I know they don't follow you but please, they're too young to die like this -

Double move action; one to redirect the Spiritual Weapon to Hobgoblin 6 and the other to actually move to square (A, 6).

Spiritual Weapon attack roll: [roll0]

(If necessary) crit confirm roll: [roll1]

Damage roll: [roll2]

(If necessary) crit damage roll: [roll3]

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Arendi moved through the tangling weeds and branches quickly, and his god's shimmering sword followed.

The weapon wheeled and sank into the hobgoblin he'd targeted, drawing a grunt of pain from it. Not a killing blow, but not an insubstantial one either...

https://images2.imgbox.com/14/6a/HH2JoAFe_o.jpg

That's 48 hours since I posted. Diana goes on total defense this round. For what it's worth that should raise her AC to 30, meaning it's critfishing for any hobgoblin to hit her.

Group initiative:

First: Aidan, Vokon, Alastor, Aerilaya
Second: Hobgoblins
Third: Arendi, Diana

ShedShadow, aracor, Deadguy, and A.A.King - you guys have 48 hours to post.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
Giant Stag Beetle (http://dndsrd.net/monstersVermin.html#giant-stag-beetle) attacks hobgoblin 3 with its bite attack.

Bite at [roll0] for [roll1]

Confirm if necessary [roll2]


Then I 5 foot step one square southeast, to A-6. This should put Hobgoblin 8 within Point Blank range. We need all the pluses we can get :P

I shoot Hobgoblin 8 twice
Arrow 1 at [roll3] for [roll4]
Arrow 2 at [roll5] for [roll6]

Confirmations if necessary.
Arrow 1 [roll7]
Arrow 2 [roll8]


Aidan hopes against hope that Vokon has the cleric covered. If Aidan doesn't take care of the archers soon, we might still be in big trouble, cleric or not. He steps sideways to see his target better, and lets both arrows fly, breathing out steadily. Watching the arrows fly, he murmurs "Eat my wood, you rancid filth."

Down the road, the beetle has found some more hobgoblin to fix his rage on. He curls his neck, bringing his jaws up in the trees, and trying to catch the goblins between its pincers.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

A steady rhythm of her heartbeat. The slow and measured intake of breath. Despite being deprived of her senses, Aerilaya felt these things. They allowed her mind to focus and be renewed.

Her hand reached down toward the scabbard of her father's blade. Cursed as it may have been, it was her link to a rich heritage. As soon as her fingers touched the warmth of the leather-wrapped grip, the blade broke free of it's confines. The strike toward the demonic canine held no hesitation. Her way of fighting was her father's way of fighting, an all or nothing motion, a respect for the enemy, to give and expect no quarter, to end the conflict decisively in one fluid motion. O-Sendaiyo-shin-kyo.


Standard: Sapphire Nightmare Blade
Concentration vs AC: [roll0]
Attack vs Flat-footed: [roll1]

Miss Chance (50% - high miss) [roll2] / [roll3]
Blind-fight reroll [roll4]

Damage: [roll5] + [roll6]
Iaijutsu Focus: [roll7]
Iaijutsu Damage: [roll8] + [roll9] + [roll10] + [roll11] + [roll12]

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Aracor]

Your fight is with ME now, puny goblin! You've already lost at least half of your number, and the tide is turning against you.

Vokon will attempt another attack on the cleric. He'll step to G0. Might as well flank if it matters.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]


Edit...Activate White Raven Tactics and target Diana.

Diana! Make yourself useful and let's finish these things off before they kill one of us!

[Dimers]

Inspired by Vokon's adamant words, Diana croaked out "Bahamut blast you, wretch," and did her best to perform her god's justice with a blast of her own.

Classic Bahamut cold breath on the cleric. If I can catch Hob3 in the 25' line too, so much the better. I won't risk hitting the unprotected beetle, though. Don't need that guy seeing me as a threat! [roll0] cold damage, Reflex DC 18 for half. Usable again in [roll1] round(s).

Then I'll use a swift action to change auras to healing.

[A.A.King]

Hanging from the tree, Alastor has a great view of the battlefield. He sees his sharp shooter take out one of the archers while a giant beetle finishes another one and his strongman and his fire breather finish of the more important looking hobgoblins. The circus was back on top! Still there were some things that needed to be taken care of.

Most attackers were still cowering in their trees that they had ambushed them from, but one of the hellhounds was still around even after a few strikes from his swordsman. The hobgoblins clearly must have done something to her, or else that hound would not still be standing. Alastor shouts over the battle field, in a loud booming voice that only a ringmaster has.

"POGO, GET TO AERILAYA! DOBBLE, BE READY TO STRIKE"

The animals ears perked up, they had run this play in their act many times before, they knew what to do. Pogo started sprinting towards the swordsman, and as he turned round the corner he saw the other dog. Pogo barked ferociously before suddenly disappearing and being replaced by by an angry bear that starting laying on the hellhound attacking the swordswoman. Alastor had cracked his whip again the moment Pogo turned the corner. He then raised his voice again, this time addressing the goblinoids

"TO ALL THOSE LEFT STANDING! AS YOU HAVE WITNESSED I AM IN COMPLETE CONTROL OF THE STAGE. SURRENDED NOW OR MEET THE SAME FAITH AS YOUR BRETHEREN"

Alastor directs his animals, Pogo takes a move action but Dobble is a free action. Pogo moves towards. Aerilaya to see what she is fighting. With 16 squares of movement I think he can just run down the dark way and then make his way there safely, but if not he'll jump down the 15ft tree instead

- If he has to Jump, then he makes a Jump check to reduce falling damage by 10ft, which would mean no fall damage:
Jump: [roll0] (DC 15)

After Pogo makes his double move, and sees the hell hound he should be on either (L, -1) or (L, 0) depending on how close dogs get to angrily bark at each other over territory...
When he Pogo stops, Alastor uses his standard action to crack his whip one final time (activating the eternal wand of benign transposition within it for the 2nd time today to swap the two beasts around. That would probably be a fun trick during a performance, but it's a very useful trick during combat)

Now Dobble is close enough to the hell hound to either full attack or take a 5 ft. step and then full attack, ready to lay in on the hell hound. (Either way she'd end up at L,-1 on the square directly below Aeriyala)

Claw 1 Attack: [roll1]
Claw 1 Damage: [roll2]

Claw 2 Attack: [roll3]
Claw 2 Damage: [roll4]

Bite Attack: [roll5]
Bite Damage: [roll6]

Now while the bear tries to kill the hell hound, Alastor tries to intimidate the hobgoblings into surrendering. They don't know he just used the last charge of his eternal wand of the day, he's just seen him swapping people around with ease. I don't really expect this to work, but Alastor is stuck, entangled to a tree... he's doing what he can to still seem in complete control of the situation...

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The next moments were bloody, and final.

The giant beetle that Aidan had summoned turned and came pattering up the road. Its mandibles clashed with clicking noises as it skittered up the road cut, something that sounded like the creature was asking a series of grotesque questions: 'Did-a-chuk? Did-a-chee? Dud-a-chum?' The stag beetle reached one of the hobgoblin archers. 'Did-a-chee?' Its forward, black-branch mandibles flicked out, impossibly fast for the creature's size. 'Dum-a-chik.' They closed around the hobgoblin's midsection. The monster screamed, a high, piercing shriek of agony, its bow dropping, hands gripping at the merciless black shell around its waist, mouth thrown back in a rictus of pain --

-- with a negligent sort of flick of antennae, and a scissorlike ripple of motion, the stag beetle's mandibles closed. The hobgoblin's body snapped clean in half, blood and flesh raining down through the brush.

One of the other hobgoblins had turned its head at the shriek. As the horror played out there, it turned back towards the road cut, looking for the dragonborn. It heard a bow thrum twice. Two arrows smashed into it. The first slammed through its chest and into the tree trunk behind it, horribly impaling the hobgoblin in place. The pain had not begun to register when the second took it through the left temple and through to the right and again into the tree trunk behind it, pinning it dreadfully to the trunk fifteen feet off the ground.

The cleric of Tiamat had also been momentarily distracted by the death of two of her comrades. It gave Vokon a chance to shift position ever-so-slightly. His fast, overhand flick with the hammer landed square on the cleric's mouth, blood and teeth flying, nose broken. Staggering, the cleric turned to face Diana, who was bleeding badly and also barely on her feet, but drawing her strength together.
"You -- will -- still -- die," the cleric coughed, blood pouring from her ruined mouth. "Your doom -- is here -- we will take your lands -- and your children -- and -- "
Diana breathed. Howling wind and the freezing and explosion of her body's cells was the cleric's last perception.

Bear and dog flickered in and out of existence, switching locations next to Aerilaya. Dobble's flying paw caught the hell hound, drawing an unearthly howl of pain from it. It was still an intelligent creature. It assessed its options. Outnumbered, and the hobgoblins were falling. It turned to retreat--

--Aerilaya moved. Instinct moved her. Her father moved her. No quarter, no mercy. The Void allowed her to see for one beautiful moment, and the big sword sliced out, ramming through the hell hound's form from hindquarter to heart, and the creature staggered and fell, body steaming.

The remaining four hobgoblins moaned as their cleric fell, and hesitated as Alastor's words rang across the road cut and through the trees.

The ones caught in the trees stopped trying to escape the entangling bonds around them. A look seemed to pass between them. They dropped their bows and drew their swords. And almost as one, drew the sharp edges of the blades across their necks one by one, deep, fatal cuts. Blood poured. They sagged, grotesque hanging effigies supported only by the entangling branches from the tanglepatch that grasped and twisted in their final spurt of growth.

The last hobgoblin south of the road cut drew his own blade. Sweat dripped from his face. He raised the short blade high to his dead and dying comrades, then shouted in a hoarse, breaking voice to the sky: "We are Kulkor Zhul! The Kulkor Zhul does not die! The Day of Doom is ours!"
And then rammed the blade into his midsection. He staggered, missing his footing, and fell fifteen feet. The fight in the road cut ended, suddenly, horribly, with a punctuating crack.

No further threats in the area. The tanglepatch should wear off in a few seconds, at which point the hobgoblins' bodies in those trees will fall to the ground (Alastor can be taken to grab a tree branch and safely make his way back down.)

You get 775 XP each.

As a reminder, Arendi and Aerilaya are still deafened for the next hour, and Aerilaya is blinded as well. Several of you are heavily injured.

Up to you what you do now!

[danielxcutter]

Arendi, who had been making his way towards the entangled archers, stopped in his tracks when he saw their final act of defiance.

Suicide. He grimaced under the visor of his helm - as a priest of Kelemvor, unnatural shortening of a life was only marginally less distasteful to him than unnatural extension. Was this normal for them?

He sighed. ...Got to tend to the living first, I suppose. He sheathed his blade and shrugged off the last remnants of plant life. Turning around, he called out, "Who needs healing?"

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya could smell the musk of circus bear. She had felt the blade bite through her target and the body go limp as she withdrew. There were no other scents that alerted her to danger immediately.

A heavy breath. She gave a forceful flick of the blade downward to clear it of blood and gore before wiping it across her sleeve and placing it back into the scabbard. She could do nothing else at the moment. In silence, she simply knelt. Both knees on the ground, she sat on her heels and waited. Either everyone was dead and the enemy would be coming for her shortly, or they had won the day and would be coming to collect her.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[A.A.King]

When Alastor saw the hobgoblin's reactions to his threats, he calmed down a bit. He certainly didn't expect that from a much of bandits. He relaxed a little and when he noticed the tree branches returning to normal he quickly grabbed one of them and made his way down. It was time to check on the animals. "Aidan, can you make sure the camels calm down again after getting stuck in the roots?" he shouted to the sharpshooter. He would have done it himself, but Dobble needed him first right now. He also had seen Aeriyala kneeling down after cutting down the last hell hound, things did not seem right there.

Alastor put his fingers in his mouth and whistled for Pogo to come and join him, Pogo had been spared any attacks luckily, but his bear had not been so lucky. Together they made there way over to the stone wall where Aeriyala and Dobble had been fighting the hell hound just moments ago.

When they got there, Alastor put his hand on the bear and stroked her, trying to get her to relax a little after the intense encounter, before turning to the kneeling Aeriyala. A little concerned he said "What did they do to you?"

[Aracor]

This was no mere banditry. Bandits do NOT slaughter themselves when the tide turns against them. They run to try to fight another day. These are true fanatics. But following who or WHAT? At some point, (especially since we have plenty of cargo space with the wagons), we should go ahead and grab all of the equipment that our enemies had. The good news is that we don't have to try to hunt down any stragglers. The bad news is that we don't have anyone left to get answers from.

Vokon will switch back to Hunter's Sense to try to keep aware of his surroundings.

I have some healing as well. Let's pool our resources and make sure everyone is prepared in case something goes...badly again. In addition, I need to apologize to you ALL.

Once the tanglepatch stops grasping, he walks up and picks up his oversized hammer.

When I earned my name "Giantbreaker", I was lucky. I nearly ended up in a stone giant's cookpot, and had given up hope while wrapped in a chain that I could not break. I was nearly catatonic, and had completely given up hope. Even after I was freed by my friend, I didn't even react until her voice finally broke through. She had sneaked through to get to myself and the rest of our hunting party. Two of our tribe fell rescuing us, and my name was earned by crushing the leader of the giants' rib cage with this very hammer, though it was after elder Egrhan had already fallen to him. I cannot bear being bound, it takes me back to a very dark place.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi paused, shrugged, and cupped his hands around his mouth(or at least the visor in front of it) and said loudly "SORRY, I'M TOO DEAF TO HEAR YOU NOW. I HAVE PARCHMENT IN MY PACK."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

As she sat, the calm breathing allowed Aerilaya to pick up the scent of the ringmaster once he was next to the bear. She didn't bother opening her eyes, only rocking back on her heals to quickly take her feet again. She only imagined the veritable debate Alastor was having with himself. The man loved to talk.

As she simply stood there, Aerilaya pointed to her ears and eyes. "Blind. Deaf." The words were low and slow, unable to hear her own voice made it difficult to speak at all.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[A.A.King]

"Well that explains a lot." Alastor said to Aeriyala before correcting himself "Oh wait, you can't hear me." he carefully grabbed her hand and pulled on it a little as an indication that he wanted her to follow me. She had already stood up, so he figured she probably had recognised him at this point despite the loss of two senses. He found himself a collection of impressive performers this time around.

"Lets go see the priest, he might have a solution for that. You guys follow us too." he said to his animals before making his way back to the caravan while guiding the swordswoman.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya didn't resist the holding of her hand, or the being brought back toward the road. Despite the willingness, there was a bit of embarrassment in it, like she were some small child being led about by her parent. Luckily, she couldn't even see if the group gave her judgmental or amused looks.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[A.A.King]

Once he and Aeriyala had made it back to the caravan and the rest of the troupe, Alastor turned towards the priest and asked: "Arendi, you wouldn't have a way to get rid of deafness and/or blindness right? It seems those bandits did a fair number on Aeriyala and right now she can't hear or see us."

[danielxcutter]

"...SORRY, CAN'T HEAR YOU." said Arendi, rather louder than he would have normally. "DO YOU NEED HEALING?" He raised his wand.

[A.A.King]

Alastor looked at the priest and just shaked his head "So they got you too then?" He then looked at the rest of the troupe "is there anyone familiar with this kind of thing? Any suggestions for how to handle this?"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi scratched his head, then remembered he was wearing a helmet.

He transferred his wand to his other hand, and reached into his haversack. "I HAVE PARCHMENT AND INK."

[Aracor]

Most likely the deafness will take care of itself in an hour. There were several Thunderstones tossed, so that is likely not permanent.

I'm afraid I have much less experience as far as Blindness.

Does anyone have experience tracking? Aidan? It may be useful to figure out where this large group of people is camped. Since we can't ask anyone, we'll have to use alternate means to find out where they're from.

He'll start going around and grabbing weapons, armor, and other equipment from the fallen enemies and loading them into a convenient wagon.

[Dimers]

This was no mere banditry. Bandits do NOT slaughter themselves when the tide turns against them. They run to try to fight another day. These are true fanatics. But following who or WHAT?

"Tiamat," growled Diana, as she moved to encompass all her allies in her restorative aura. "The priest made that crystal-clear to me. But there's so much wrong with the very idea, even beyond opposing Bahamut's greatness. Why would they be willing to die for a goddess of greed and hate, and why would she accept the devotion of some little pack of lowly non-dragons?" She shook her head, wincing as the movement aggravated an arrow wound. "Achgh. Got to get these out of me before they seal over." She went to work taking care of her wrecked body.

[A.A.King]

"Well, if you think they'll regaining hearing in about an hour, we should probably stay put until then. With Aeriyala having lost both hearing and sight, it would be best not to travel until she regained at least one of those two senses."

"I don't know much about all that, but their behaviour certainly was strange. Maybe if we check out that farmhouse some of them seemed to be hiding in we discover more about this ambush"

Alastor then used his belt on both himself and the bear to remove some of the damage inflicted to them

Using 2 charges of my healing belt, one on me and one on Dobble (once she has reached half from the Diana's aura)
Alastor is at 23 and gains [roll0] HP
Dobble is at 15 and gains [roll1] HP

1 Charge remaining on my belt for today

[danielxcutter]

"...SO UH, I GOT PARCHMENT. DO ANY OF YOU HAVE A PEN OR DO YOU NEED TO BORROW MINE?" Arendi said, waving a sheet around.

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Leaving aside binding up their wounds and generally getting their little caravan back in order took the better part of an hour or so when combined with policing the bodies of the hobgoblins they'd killed. As it turned out, the question of where the hobgoblins had been lairing had been a simple one to answer. Aidan had turned to the tracks, but Vokon had simply followed a scent of foulness that arose as he came up alongside the ruins of the farmhouse south of the road cut. The hobgoblins had been using the ruin as a crude campsite. Banked cookfires and dirty bedrolls lay all around.

In one corner, the hobgoblins had stacked bodies. There were five: all human, still in their clothes, arrow wounds prominent though inflicted several hours ago by the look of it; the bodies hadn't begun to smell badly yet. Of these five bodies, three appeared warriors of some kind; each wore studded leather armour that did not look particularly well-made, and equally mundane longswords and light crossbows had been left alongside each. One of the remaining two bodies had good travelling clothes on combined with footwear more suited to a town's cobbles than a country road; and the last was in a plain farmer's smock and robes, with palms so lined and weathered their use for hard labour was apparent even after death. Near their bodies lay a small merchant's purse, which contained the gleam of gold: 760 gold pieces all up.

As for the hobgoblins' bodies, they were both unsurprising and curious. The green and brown rags tied to the archers' armour didn't appear to be anything other than crude camouflage, and the studded leather armour they wore was similarly unremarkable. On each hobgoblin's belt were two potion bottles. They had the look - from long experience on various partymembers' parts - of healing potions, but without a definitive examination by a cleric or other person familiar with brewing of magical concoctions, it seemed difficult to tell. Some of them had a small pouch containing two thunderstones, and two tanglefoot bags each.

Each of the hobgoblins had a stock, standard short sword -- in comparison to those of the hobgoblin who'd been wielding two blades - and a heavy steel shield. However, the swords each had a plain, iron ring fitted over the handle and resting where the sword's handle met its crossguard. This addition did not fit the look or design of normal swords that the party members had seen before.

And then there were the bodies of the eight archers. Rather than the sword and shield of their companions, they had composite longbows and an array of 20 arrows each. The arrows seemed mundane enough - it was the longbows that appeared odd. Each of the bows had two mundane iron rings fitted over them, fitting neatly at the bottom and top end of the bow's midpoint where an archer would grip it. Indeed it seemed that it would be possible for an archer to touch both iron rings while gripping the bow in his hand. On each of these bows, the iron rings seemed to be inscribed with written symbols of some kind, not in any language that any of the party had encountered before. Each bow had the same two symbols: one symbol on the top ring, another, distinct symbol on the bottom ring of each. They were not things that any of the travelling circus had encountered before.

The hell hounds' corpses were also different from anything the travellers had encountered in the past. While they certainly looked like the ones he had seen, there were certain differences - the teeth, slightly longer and more curved than those he had seen, and some sort of aberrations to the forehead and back which seemed to make harder, thin ridges of the skull and spine.

The dual-wielding hobgoblin's body revealed studded leather armour that was quite well-made. His two short swords were also well-made to the point that the magic in them was apparent even on a glance.

The hobgoblin cleric's body was clad in a suit of very well-made banded mail -- clearly magical -- and held a heavy steel shield and a heavy pick (albeit mundane, and nowhere near the quality of those the dual-wielder had held). And she held two scrolls, which the party could guess would have been used for the casting of spells on experience. Around her neck was a pendant with a design matching that of the figure daubed on her armour: a star made of five claws, the symbol of Tiamat.

https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5020/5401969305_3c44396ba8_m.jpg


Summary of gear:
- 760 gp
- Symbol of Tiamat
- Banded Mail +1
- Masterwork studded leather armour
- 2 x scrolls
- 8 x mundane iron rings, loose
- Masterwork painting kit
- Heavy Pick
- 3 x Heavy steel shields
- 11 x mundane short swords with 1 x blank iron ring each
- 2 x Short Sword +1
- 14 x mundane studded leather armour
- 3 x mundane longswords
- 3 x light crossbows
- 8 x composite longbows with 2 x blank iron rings each
- 22 x potions (healing?)
- 10 x thunderstones
- 12 x tanglefoot bags

Complication Dice stands at 2 of 6 with the passing of time and investigation of the scene. Assume you can get through whatever healing you feel you need to do here, if it makes it any faster, i.e. go ahead and roll for healing. You can also assume that the deafening effects of the thunderstones wear off in the time period it takes to get all this sorted and assembled.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi had helped the others with the cleaning up somewhat, but mostly he had tended to the bodies.

He really wasn't able to do much for them... but at least he knew some appropriate prayers.

...and through the grace of my Lord, may thou reach thy own.

He didn't really have any obligations for murderers and robbers, but he supposed their goddess would know what to do with them.

"Why the hells were they fighting in Tiamat's name, though? Arendi asked the dragon shaman. "Ignoring the religious aspects... I don't think her church's that popular around here, is it?"

[Saintheart]

Mid-afternoon, on the road outside Drellin’s Ferry
Cannath Vale,
(South of the Shaar, East of the Wyrmbones)
The Sixth of Mirtul, 1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Diana didn't immediately answer. She might have been preoccupied, which was understandable given she'd come pretty close to death back there. So after a few moments Arendi turned his attention to some of the more strange objects they'd recovered from the hobgoblins' bodies.

The potions, at least, were simple enough to identify. They might not have borne the (somewhat ironic) skull and scales motif that the brewers back at the monastery had placed on healing potions of Kelemvor, but only certain decoctions had proven capable of holding the power of a god's healing strength within them for a period of time. The distinctive smell of almonds and just a little copper was common to pretty well all potions capable of healing across the Realms, and those from Tiamat's church were no exception. He only really had to take a quick sniff of the liquid sloshing in a few of the gourds to confirm they were, indeed, reasonably minor healing potions.

The magical weaponry and armour was easy enough to confirm by the radiance of magic from them; again, the weaponry he'd seen at the monastery was enough to tell it as magical, but no more than providing mild enhancements to the power of the armour and the short swords.

But then there were the iron rings. These were curious once more. On a closer inspection, they weren't in fact blank. Each of the rings had the remains of some blocky inscription on them. Not writing as such - more like elaborate symbols or designs, more geometric shapes than flowing lines. The inscriptions were faded - no, Arendi amended to himself, not faded - burned. As if they'd burned off somehow. And even more intriguing was that there was a magical radiance here ... but a dim one. A faded residue of a spell, or a magic item that had held the radiance of magic. The dim aura, though, wasn't coming from the rings. It was coming from the faded inscriptions. As though the writing itself had been magical. It wasn't something Arendi had ever encountered in his studies at the monastery.


The potions are of Cure Light Wounds.

Each pair of rings recovered from the bows carries two different auras, one for each ring in the pair. The aurae are dim, consistent with an expired spell. They're also of a faint aura. One is of the divination school, the other the transmutation school.
The rings recovered from the swords carry one type of aura. Again, it's dim, consistent with an expired spell, again, a faint aura, of the divination school.

[danielxcutter]

"Hmm, the healing potions are standard issue, and so is the equipment," Arendi remarked. "I suppose that even if the source's different, there's only so many ways to cast a spell... but these rings."

He tapped one of the rings on a bow they'd... well, looted. "The dual-wielder's blades are just enhanced a bit, but these from the soldiers have these rings with leftover magic. The bows have rings with transmutation, and all of them have residual divination rings as well. I think they're single-use like potions."

Arendi closed his copy of Ye Olde Index of Magical Effects(the title of which was written in a form of Common he doubted had ever been used in the Realms) with a clap and dropped it back into his bag, frowning. "But that doesn't make sense. They're weren't random bandits, but if they're part of some larger group... why ambush random passerby?"

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None



After obediently getting the animals together at the ringmaster's command, though he would have done so either way, Aidan helps out with getting the bodies sorted and following the tracks. The track to the farmhouse was plain enough, and what had occurred there was plain as well. The bodies were fresh enough to have been made earlier this morning.

After the deafness wears off from the thunderstone in the expected time, Aidan having experience with them since he had arrows that did a similar thing, he steps to Alastor. "Alastor, we need to have a talk. I've been thinking about what we encountered here, and it does not bode well." Aidan sighs, and Alastor notes that Aidan isn't swearing, indicating that Aidan is dead serious about this. "The way this group was set up does not speak of an opportune encounter, at least for us. I don't know about the merchant's group, but by the way they were peppered with arrows and their weapons bear no blood, their fate was similar to ours. We just happened to have a greater number and skilled fighters. It looks like this was a trap, a funnel deliberately set up. The farmhouse is out of sight, and the trees provide perfect cover for an ambush. If they were bandits, which I doubt, they were highly organized." He looks to where the hobgoblin cleric lies. "And you heard the priest shouting. That was some serious religious zeal, and from the archers too, the way they took their own life like that. I cannot fathom that this was just a roving band of zealots. And then look at this." Aidan is holding one of the goblin composite bows in his hand. "This bow is not the make of some hare-brained idiot with a piece of wood and string. It was made by a skilled bowmaker, expertly crafted to the strength of each of its wielders. And the same goes for some of the weapons and armor we found. Where did they get it?" By now he is pacing around.

"So, we have a band of overzealous hobgoblins on the loose, armed to the teeth and looking for blood? Not quite. From my reading of the maps we bought we are close to the town we were headed for. If they purposefully camped here, which I believe they did, then they did so hoping to make as many casualties as possible, catching the travelers to and from town." He shakes his head, still pacing. "They were trying to make the townsfolk afraid, or at least cut off from this side of the world. That doesn't sound like roving bandits, religious or no. That sounds like the beginning of siege tactics." He stops in his tracks, looking intently at the ringmaster. "It sounds like the rumblings of a war."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

The silence had faded. The darkness had not. Aerilaya stayed close to the caravan animals as the others moved about to gather the items from the fallen enemies. She gave grateful bows to those providing her with a measure of healing.

As Arendi mused over the findings and the reason for the attack, she interjected. "The surest way to create a reaction in a town is to hamper trade. If they were hoping to lure out the garrison from inside the city walls, harassing the merchant roads would put pressure on the city rulers to take some manner of action to protect the commodities. Also, weakening the economy and restricting information flow from nearby cities is of great importance when preparing a siege."

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[danielxcutter]

"Okay that makes sense, but again why Tiamat?" asked the death priest. "I thought she's mostly popular in Unther over in the east? You don't get much farther from here without being in the ass end of Anauroch or something."

He sighed. "Well, don't suppose much good could come from sitting on our own asses. Can we fit the bodies on the cart? Not the soldiers, obviously, but I'm not particularly keen on leaving the victims out here with nobody to find them."

[Aracor]

We should probably bring at least one hobgoblin back as well. If Drellin's Ferry isn't aware of what's going on, they need to be. Now. The bodies will help as evidence. Perhaps the cleric with the holy symbol?

But I agree - we should leave soon. I doubt there is another force close enough to harass us this close to the town, but again - they need to be made aware of what's happening. Too bad the news the circus brings is less cheerful than it was five minutes ago.

I'd also suggest that everyone who doesn't have one take a healing potion just in case.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi shrugged. "Well, six of us and twenty-two potions... I can cast healing spells and I think Alastor can too, so maybe we can take two and the rest three? Just off the top of my head."

He turned to the ringmaster. "Ultimately this is your show, isn't it? You're a performer, not a tactician, but do you have any suggestions?"

[A.A.King]

I figured that in the time we were studying/collecting the gear these guys had, Alastor would be trying to figure out the value of these things. He's in charge of the circus's finances after all. He'll have taken out his magnifying class from his luggage on the camels and while doing so also restocked his supply of alchemist fire (going from 1 on hand/17 on camels to 3 on hand/15 on camels)

Appraise: [roll0]. (Though I assume most of these things just have the buy the book price, I just wanted the opportunity to roll a dice :smalltongue:)

Alastor had just finished studying the collection of gear and items with his magnifying class when Aidan speaks up and voices his concern. Aerilaya also seemed to agree with his idea.

"It's true that I can't imagine anyone setting up an elaborate ambush just to prevent the circus from coming to town but it's also hard to imagine that we just stumbled into a warzone without realizing it. Worse still to imagine that the towns and cities we were planning to visit also don't realise it."

"Now, I would ask if anyone objected to us continuing down this road, if you guys are right then this tour has become a lot more dangerous that we initially thought, but I don't think we have much of a choice here. You guys finally have your hearing back but whatever that priest did to Aerilaya still hasn't gone away. Right now our original destination is by far the closest village and therefor our best chance of curing her affiliations by quite a margin. If it's true that these people are about to be attacked without them even knowing it then it would be wrong to not try and warn them"

"This does mean that we have to be more vigilant than we were before, and it certainly means that we have to make haste. Now, most of the stuff we found is too big for me to use anyway and while it is valuable I don't believe it would hold great value to anyone of you. Still, we should certainly take it with us to sell, the profits will help greatly with paying for our travels and more. So I suggest grabbing what you think is useful, loading the rest on the camels and then resuming our journey while I check the map to see how long it will take us to actually reach the next town."

He takes out his map and starts looking at it, though first he quickly turns his attention to one of the trees

"OH AND LIBBY, DON'T THINK I DIDN'T SEE YOU FLY UP THERE WHEN THE ARROWS CAME FLYING DOWN. GET YOUR WINGS BACK HERE BEFORE WE LEAVE YOU BEHIND!"

[danielxcutter]

"We probably should take one of the bodies with us for proof, though." Arendi mused. "Can we improvise some kind of sled or something?"

[Dimers]

"Why the hells were they fighting in Tiamat's name, though? Arendi asked the dragon shaman.

Diana slowly shook her head, pondering. Eventually she responded, "I just can't imagine. She's no savior or benefactor; anyone she helps, she expects to get more from in return. It makes no sense. None at all."

From the pile of the hobgoblins' possessions, Diana retrieved the five-claw star. "I don't care about the rest of that mess, but this, this needs to be destroyed, like everything corrupted by that foul goddess's touch. Vokon, can I borrow your hammer? -- one of the little ones, I mean."

[danielxcutter]

"I'm not going to interfere with this kind of religious conflict, but don't we need that for proof?" asked Arendi. "Of course, there's always the option of smashing it after that... and also maybe we should make sure it's not trapped or something. If they're willing to commit suicide to spite us, I can imagine them setting some kind of glyph spell as a last middle finger to their killers."

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None



Aidan nodded at the ringmaster's query. "More people means more safety. And I think we might be able to find a cure of some kind for Aerilaya there, or at least some kind of local herbal medicine that might be worth a shot if there's no priest capable of doing so. After that we can figure what to do next."

From the pile of the hobgoblins' possessions, Diana retrieved the five-claw star. "I don't care about the rest of that mess, but this, this needs to be destroyed, like everything corrupted by that foul goddess's touch. Vokon, can I borrow your hammer? -- one of the little ones, I mean."

Arendi answered her. "I'm not going to interfere with this kind of religious conflict, but don't we need that for proof?" asked Arendi. "Of course, there's always the option of smashing it after that... and also maybe we should make sure it's not trapped or something. If they're willing to commit suicide to spite us, I can imagine them setting some kind of glyph spell as a last middle finger to their killers." Aidan nodded in agreement. "Yes, we do need that for proof. You can destroy it afterward." Walking towards the wood, he waves to Arendi. "Come, I'm sure we can make a sled of some kind from a couple of tree branches and some rope.."

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdSwHhd_VeA)

The rest of the afternoon was spent in sweat. First, a good hour or more cutting enough wood and lashing it together to make a sort of sledge; then, bringing the bodies of the hobgoblin dual-wielder and the cleric to the sledge, to be drawn behind the mules. Then, having finished their work and gathered all they cared to recover from this place, back to the trail. The road turned back northeast, and the afternoon heat grew as the companions trudged on up the dusty road, dragging their captured gear behind them.

The sun slid into the west, throwing purple and red into the sky. Crickets celebrated noisily as the day’s heat receded. The road finally descended to the southern side of a small town built mostly on the eastern bank of the Talar River - broad and sluggish. Six old stone pylons jutted from the water, marking the spot where a bridge once stood, but the span itself was long gone. Instead, a couple of long thick ropes hung across the river, each secured to a flat-bottomed ferryboat.

Sienna fields and orchards of orange trees surrounded the town. Alastor had seen enough such places in his travels to make an educated guess at the town’s size: a thousand people or so all up, a settlement proportional to what the fields around the town could sustain -- in its way a human place balanced against the bounty of Silvanus, Chauntea, Malar, and the other gods of nature.

Six short clangs echoed softly across the afternoon air – someone keeping time, signalling the sixth hour after noon. There was no bell tower visible from here; the only building more than twenty feet high was a small stone tower visible near the centre of town. Arendi's experiences suggested that to be the town armoury. The place had an unashamedly military look to it, exuding an atmosphere of blunt purpose. There were a couple of other solid-looking structures dotted about the townsite. Even at this distance they were recognisable as dwarf make: older, buttressed, as distinct against the town's wooden buildings as stone against sand.

A group of armed townsfolk stood guard at a makeshift checkpoint in the road, watching the companions with an assortment of expressions ranging from curiosity to wariness to puzzlement. Three were in poor-looking leather armour. The last was in more complex armour: a textile kavadion beneath a few other formidable bronze-looking pieces of plate.

“Halt and state your business,” said this last one.

https://images2.imgbox.com/12/76/umSC5g2N_o.jpg

Tall, with a brown beard and long moustache, he looked competent, mainly due to the obvious mediocrity of his companions. The three in leather were likely just farmers, there for numbers more than anything else. The guardsman in real armour was professional enough to not let his insecurity show; indeed, he let no particular emotion show other than mild interest. But no one could mistake the hand laid close to the handle of his great scimitar, or the steady look that rested on Aidan Blackbow in particular.

Here's the town map:

https://images2.imgbox.com/2a/0d/XCheQZtY_o.jpg

Key:

Red dot: you are here
1 - Checkpoints
2 - The Green
3 – Town Speaker’s Home
4 – The Green Apple Inn
5 – Morlin’s Smithy
6 – Shrine of Lathander
7 – House of Sertieren the Wise
8 – Old Toll House
9 – Town Armory
10 – The Old Bridge Inn
11 – Jarrett’s Sundries
12 – Delora’s Livery Stable
13 – Iormel’s Warehouse
14 – The Ferry
15 – The Ruins of the Dwarfbridge
16 – Gausler’s Brewhouse
17 – Jendar’s Warehouse
18 – Sterrel’s Provisioning
19 – Grove of the Old Ones

Thought this was the simplest way to help you guys orient yourselves - if you need short clarifications of these locations let me know, though fuller descriptions will follow as you explore as you see fit.

Location 9 is the small stone tower referred to
Location 14 is the Ferry with two long ropes laid across the river.
Locations 5, 8, and 15 are recognisable as dwarf-built.

The Complication Dice stands at 3 of 6.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi went over to the ringmaster and said lowly, "So, you going to go with the theatrics this time or get straight to business considering we almost died back there?"

[A.A.King]

"Our businesses, good sir?" Alastor said with a smile, clearly ignoring Arendi whispering in his ear "our businesses is ENTERTAINMENT!!! "

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Alastor and I am in charge of the Great Bremer Circus" Alastor said and he took an extravagant bow "and behind me stand my troupe, my artists, my performers." He then lead into the guardsman a little and whispered
"except for the camels, they aren't very artistic but I don't have it in my heart to tell them that." He then pulled back again and continued

"We travel from town to town to offer relief from the day to day grind in the form of great and exciting shows and today is YOUR lucky day for WE have chosen to set-up shop in YOUR town for a few days!" He then spreads his arm expecting applause that doesn't seem to come, so he continues

"That being said, I must inform you that outside of this wonderful news I'm also bringing some bad news. You see, on the road to your little hamlet we encountered some trouble. A well organised group of hobgoblins had set-up shop in their own way on the road we were taking and tried to ambush us. We managed to escape by the skin of our teeth, but afterwards we discovered that we had not been the first with the misfortune to encounter this group."

"Now the reason I inform you of this good sir is not just to increase interest in our own show, though surely you must admit that the men and woman who were capable of narrowly escaping such a harrowing situation must surely be able to put on a good show, but I tell you this because you seem to involved with the protection on this town. Otherwise, why inquire into the business of strangers that just arrived? Well, some of my troupe reasoned that the location and co-ordination of this particular group showed that they were more than mere bandits and that if they were stationed at one road going into town than surely there are others like them stationed at other roads going into town. Good samaritans than we are, we decided to go to the authorities with this but it appears the authorities have found us instead!"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi sighed and covered his face with his hand. "Figures."

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The man in the kavadion took in Alastor's speech with no more facial movement than a raised eyebrow. For most of the fey's introduction, his eyes were shifting from the fey to the rest of the train behind them, resting on Aidan now and then, but also taking in the menagerie of animals behind them, the goliath's impressive frame, the dragonborn near them, Aerilaya's seeming blindness, and an assessing look over Arendi's armour and weapons.

Which was all right, because Alastor spotted at least one or two pairs of lips parting among the other three in leather, consistent with a certain slackness of jaw, and correlated with a certain glassiness of eyes as they listened to him.

"You're a circus, you say?" the leader said at length. "Rare enough in these parts. Lucky, too, to come through an ambush of those hobgoblins. Bands of those murderous scum have been skulking near the town for days now. And your guess is right, there are other bands waylaying the western roads to here."

He took another, longer look over the Circus, this time eyes resting on the packs of recovered armour and the travois behind Uno with two hobgoblin corpses on it. One of the other three guards in leather, a sandy-haired man with blue eyes who likely was no more than nineteen, shuffled forward. "Are you all really a circus?"
"Oh, you have no idea (Awwwk!)" Libby the Subtle Observer Of Discretion Being The Better Part of Valour flapped her yellow wings on Vokon's shoulder. The parrot cocked an eye at the young man. "You think there's some other plausible reason for a talking yellow parrot sitting on a giant's shoulders, with a man in a funny hat speaking for us? (Arrk!) Course, I guess we could be pirates, but we're kind of lacking for a ship. Although I guess we have ships of the desert, but we're kind of lacking deserts too. (Arrk!)"
"Huh?" The sandy-haired man blinked.

The leader seemed to finish his inspection of the Circus. He had something like an approving look on his face. He now turned to Alastor once more. "Well, I can't speak for the town, but given the way folk are feeling with the troubles, a circus sounds a lot like a good cure for some worries. Are you needing a place to stay, or do you have your own tents?"
"(Whistle)We've got our own, saer.(Awwk)"
"I see. The village Green's where market fairs are set up, so if you're planning to set up tents that'll likely be the place, but you'll need the Council's permission I'd wager. Go over to the Old Toll House - that's the big stone building down there near the Ferry - and ask for Captain Soranna. And I'll have to ask you to leave those hobgoblin corpses here; the folk are plenty nervous enough without strangers dragging two bodies into the middle of town to get excited about. Whereabouts did you run into them? And why d'you say you weren't the first to encounter them?"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi turned his face slightly away. "Because... we saw the bodies." he said, the sound of scraping metal ringing from his gauntlets as he clenched his fists. "A merchant, three bodyguards, and I think a farmer. We didn't have room to bring them too, though. There was an abandoned farmhouse back there, do you know that place? Could you..." He trailed off.

"...I was going to ask if your men could go get them, but you have your hands full already, don't you?" Arendi said softly, slumping his shoulders.

"...Oh. Right." he said, remembering something. Gesturing towards Aerilaya, the priest said "And our tightrope walker got blinded by their spellcaster. Do you know who can cure that, or at least where such magic items are sold?"

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The leader's face grew grim at the mention of the bodies. "Yes - I know that place. The merchant, I don't suppose you--"
"That sounds like it was Jendar, Sergeant Hersk," said one of the farmers, laying a weathered hand on the kavadion-clad warrior's shoulder. "Merris told me he came through here this morning. Him and those three sellswords out of Terrelton."
The Sergeant squinted at the farmer silently.
"Well, what were they supposed to do?" said the farmer, shifting on his feet. "Throw them all in the Toll House?"
"I would have, if I'd known," said Hersk. "I told that damn fool he had no business risking his neck west of the town with the troubles out that way. Him and his bloody 'deal' over in Sheirtalar. Lot of good his deals do his wife and sons now. Bloody Iormel will be turning cartwheels when he hears about this." Hersk exhaled heavily, shaking his head, turning back to Arendi. "Cry your pardon, saer. I'd guess the merchant you found was probably Jendar Lakelock; he has - had - a warehouse here in town. I don't know who the farmer would be, but there's a few outlying homesteads that still haven't had word of the raiding--"
"Jendar's dead?" The sandy-haired boy looked shocked, turning to Hersk.
"Not now, Erid. Stand down now, go get some water, our skins are almost empty, there's a good lad." Hersk watched the boy move hesitantly down the track toward town, then sighed and turned back to Arendi. "We'll see if we can spare a few men to head out there in the morning. I'm guessing if you've cleared that warband out it should be safe enough to ride out and bring the bodies back. At least for a few days. I'd not ask a Greywarden to risk himself when he's already come through something like that."

Greywarden. Now there was an old term. Clerics of Kelemvor were sometimes still called that in the backblocks, or so the monastery had said; an old name, ringing with respect for a death cleric rather than the superstitious throwing-salt-over-shoulders or hand gestures against misfortune that customarily followed one.

Hersk had turned to point down into the town once more. "As for your companion's condition, there's a shrine of Lathander on the far side of town - Kandil of Rethmar lives there. He might be able to help. Still," and he turned back, looking over the roughened condition of the Circus in general and in particular at Aerilaya, "I'd actually try Morlin Coalhewer for your injuries and magical items. His trade's mostly in smithing, but he does stock enchanted weapons and some armor. Not much call for magical weaponry out here until recently, and there aren't that many people round here who can afford what he sells, but he does stock it at least. " Hersk took another glance at the piles of armour and weapons on the improvised sledge the companions were dragging behind them. "He'd probably be interested in whatever you've recovered. That's his smithy, up on the east side - he's dwarven, been here a long time. I remember him working his forge here when I was a boy. The dwarves such as we've hereabouts go to him with their ailments and injuries exclusively, and I've never heard them complain about what they get from him."

Morlin's Smithy is at number 5 on the map, and the Shrine of Lathander is at number 6. I'll add all this to the start of the OOC thread in due course.

[danielxcutter]

"...So they were from around here, then. We're sorry to be the bringer of bad news." the cleric of Kelemvor said, bowing his head. "Thank you for understanding, Sergeant. We did recover some things," he continued, unsubtly jabbing the halfling in the side with an elbow, "but I'm happy to know that they'll be able to rest a bit better soon."

[A.A.King]

Alastor jabbed back at the priest, indicating this will be discussed later. "Thank you for your assists in this manner, we'll be sure to remember your face when we open our first show!" Alastor made another elaborate bow before turning around and adressing his performers.

"I suggest we make our way together to greens and split up from there. Some people will have to stay with the animals and our gear while I ask for permission to set-up, but some others can go with Aerilaya to help her eyes fixed."

[Aracor]

I agree, Alastor. I'll accompany Aerilaya as well. Remember, the fact that these are true fanatics and literally willing to slaughter themselves as soon as the tide turns against them is troubling at best. Captain...Seranna? should definitely be aware of that.


He then proceeds to lift the hobgoblin corpses, one in each hand, is about to toss them at the side of the road, then stops and shakes his head. There's no visible strain in his arms.

I'm sorry, Sergeant Hersk. That was rude. Where exactly would you like me to leave...these?

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"On the contrary, saer," said Hersk, "I think it entirely appropriate that you dump that miserable refuse in the ditch right there so it doesn't further encumber you ... though I can see it doesn't anyway." Hersk stood aside and waved the other two farmers to the far side of the road. "Drellin's Ferry welcomes the Great Bremer Circus," he said, with just the faintest of grins.

You all get 75 XP each.

[danielxcutter]

"I think we'll enjoy our stay as well, Sergeant." Arendi said, nodding. "I think I should probably go to this Morlin as well, Alastor. Even if he doesn't sell potions or the like, I might still be able to be able to buy a scroll for that."

He paused and looked back at the sergeant. "Oh one last thing... I don't know why, but they seemed to be followers of Tiamat. The hobgoblins that is," he remarked jerking his thumb at the bodies, "and I don't think that's common around these areas. Do take care."

[Aracor]

Thank you, Hersk! Would you care to make a wager as to how far they'll roll?

Vokon will pitch the hobgoblins one after the other into the dirt on the side of the road hammer-throw style with a grin before Hersk can answer.

At least they'll be far enough away from you that their dead eyes won't be staring at you, right?

[Dimers]

"I suggest we make our way together to greens and split up from there. Some people will have to stay with the animals and our gear while I ask for permission to set-up, but some others can go with Aerilaya to help her eyes fixed."

"Aye, I'll stay with the animals," Diana responded quickly. "Too worn from that near-death fight to want to wend my way through town, but I expect I'll attract some attention for the Circus just by standing around."

I'll spend my time working on fixing my earthsilk jersey, since it got damaged with a piercing crit during the battle. If people stop by and show interest in my features, I'll talk up the circus, come one come all.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya had remained quiet during the interactions with the guards. Her hand resting lightly on the flank of the camel to guide her as they moved. Once the others had made their plans, she simply shrugged and held out her hand, as if waiting to be led to wherever they planned on leading her. There wasn't much for her to say at this point.

She really just wanted a bath. The scent of the road and the animals had been invading her head since they got back on the road after the attack. If it weren't for the hint of hearth smoke in the air, she might not have even known they were near a town.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Saintheart]

Alastor, Diana, and Libby

The Old Toll House,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Despite Diana's condition, Alastor managed to prevail on the dragonborn to come with him to see the Captain, and leaving Aidan and Vokon to their work, they headed up towards the ferry and the Old Toll House they'd been directed to.

On closer inspection, the Toll House was definitely the largest building in the town, even if it was not the tallest. The worn, oversized blocks making up its stone walls and the overbuilt entrances and exits making it workable for people of human height confirmed it as dwarven-made. Alastor could surmise its original purpose, particularly given the name of the place: there obviously had been a dwarven span here once, long ago, now collapsed, and this building had been where tolls were extracted from those passing over that bridge. Now, though, the building served a different function. Noticeboards were secured to the exterior: dates of the next court sessions, declarations of the Town Council establishing checkpoints on exit roads, calls for those professing to possess the will of one Abrem Stoneshaw to come forward given his recent death. There were two guardsmen at the doorway, but did not bar their way. Such places were familiar to Alastor.
Inside, while the place's activity was winding down with impending nightfall, it only took a glance at the activity to establish this building was essentially the seat of what passed for government in small towns like this: a combination town hall, courthouse, jail, and guard headquarters.

The companions accosted a guardsman who'd already stowed his armour and was departing for the day. When Hersk's name was mentioned, he nodded and disappeared into a back room, emerging with a woman who had the look of someone grudgingly used to opponents made of parchment as much as, if not more than, steel.

https://images2.imgbox.com/01/10/b1d9CFJD_o.jpg

Captain Anitah Soranna, as she introduced herself, was younger than Alastor had expected for someone with that rank. He'd already realised they were speaking with the captain of the local guard rather than the actual decisionmakers of the town, but in his experience dealing with (minor) nobility such individuals' views usually carried considerable weight with those in power. And given the size of the town, captain was probably about as high as the ranks went for military purposes.
This wasn't someone to be handled lightly.

The Captain sized up fey, dragonborn, and parrot with a gaze decades older and invited them back into her office, a spartan affair with scuffed desk, closed cupboard, parchment pile to one side, and a recently-lit candle whose tallow smell was slowly filling up the room. There were a few wooden chairs scattered around the room, and she gestured to the companions to make themselves comfortable as she leaned on the front edge of the desk.
"So. You're a circus troupe, were attacked by a hobgoblin warband on the road here, managed to defeat them." She peered at their remaining injuries. "Looks like they did you some damage. Still, you came through it - which is more than can be said for a lot of unfortunates out on those roads. Many thanks for that. So, what can I do for you?"

------

Arendi and Aerilaya

Morlin's Smithy,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Arendi led Aerilaya gently by the hand off the Green and up the dusty track to the smithy. They got a couple of curious glances from passerby, but the activity down on the Green - as Aidan and Vokon were setting up - seemed to be of more interest to most of the townsfolk, and nobody accosted them. It wasn't clear who was drawing more inquisitive glances of the ones they got - the cleric of Kelemvor in scale-and-bones armour, or the beautiful, eyepatched woman who was being led by the hand.

The smithy stood in defiance of the setting sun. It was a big blockhouse of a building - typical dwarven design and construction, and at a glance Arendi could tell it had a similar vintage to the other dwarven buildings they had seen - which was to say it was far older than any of the buildings around it. It was a squat ziggurat of a building without an upper level, a slowly-smoking chimney at its top, the doorway made of well-crafted stone which pivoted on silent stone pins. The heat from the interior washed over Arendi and Aerilaya as they entered, as did the smell of steel, coal, and steam over Aerilaya's blinded senses. No shopfront or concierge here; this was a place of work as much as commerce. Two forges blazed bright red at the rear of the room, providing most of the light. No one manned the bellows; Arendi could see they'd adopted a not-infrequent dwarven design of automated bellows, driven by a system of pulleys, wheels, and slowly-draining casks of water. Firelight glinted and danced off weapons arrayed on racks and on the walls. It required no magician's eye to see several of them were magical in nature - and there were any number of other mundane items around the large room as well on tables. Above them, suspended on chains from the ceiling, was an iron plaque with a stylised smith's hammer above a burning forge. Arendi didn't have much to do with clerics of other faiths, but he couldn't help but appreciate the subtlety: it seemed to advertise the place as a blacksmith, but to any cleric - and more importantly, any dwarf - it was apparent as daylight that it was a symbol of Moradin.

https://images2.imgbox.com/b5/12/HwIxGODR_o.png

The dwarf emerged from the shadows. Morlin Coalhewer had a bald head, but his eyes, brows, and beard were as black as a devil's soul with white shot through them like veins of ice in black rock. His beard was hardly visible against his brown skin -- a gold dwarf. His leather apron was as brown as his skin, and he had tied his beard back with a thong, a shockingly white sweatcloth crowning his forehead. The smith was dusting his hands off, white (and stained) sweatcloths tied around his palms. When he spoke, his voice was deep and carved from rock and dusted with smoke. "Welcome, strangers--"
The firelight revealed the symbol on Arendi's armour.
Morlin slowed his pace, hesitating for a moment before essaying a bow. "Saer greywarden. Long time it's been since a cleric of the Lord of the Dead was below this roof. I regret I've no Deathstrike Bracers or Truedeath Crystals to make available for yer work, but mayhap there's something else I can help ye with?"

----

Aidan and Vokon

The Village Green,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

While the others set off to their various errands, Vokon and Aidan set about unpacking. The village Green was a broad, grassy field where children were playing even as the two of them staked the camels and mules and started unrolling the great garish big top tent that served as both playhouse and inn when they were out on the road. Dobble was quietly taking a nap off to one side, and Pogo had taken the standard noble pose of a dog at rest on his hindquarters belied by a smiling jaw, a lolling tongue, and fast breathing as all dogs did. The combination of animals and unusual look of the two performers conspired to keep people back, but when Vokon heaved with his tree-trunk arms on a guy-rope and the point of the big tent rose skyward, tongues immediately began to wag and more people started down towards the green. A couple of market vendors, who had been packing up for the day, reopened their stalls and lit lanterns. It didn't take long before several dozen people were standing on the verges of the Circus' campsite gawping. Aidan was a little surprised to find that he wasn't really the main source of inquiring looks; it was Vokon who was drawing most of the attention. Perhaps there was something to the rumoured familiarity with drow that Dambrath generated in this area after all.

Either way, even if they were performers, the two travelling companions were also attentive to the environment around them. Which was why, at the nearest edge of the crowd, both goliath and drow spotted a man getting his purse slit by a boy no older than ten or eleven. They were both close enough to do something about it, even perhaps grab the urchin if it came to it...

[danielxcutter]

Arendi took a quick look around the forge again, and spoke. "Ah, a shrine to the Forger of Souls. I should have guessed."

He returned the bow and continued, "Fortunately, I suppose, our business involves the living. You know those Tiamat-worshiping hobgoblins that are causing trouble? We got caught in an ambush, and their priest used a spell to blind my friend here," gesturing at the swordsage.

He shrugged and said "I'm not quite good enough to fix that yet... and also, the sergeant recommended this place. I can see why, now - I'll say, I'm impressed."

[Saintheart]

Arendi and Aerilaya

Morlin's Smithy,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Morlin waved away the compliment with a cloth-wrapped hand. "Just trinkets here, saer. I've an interest in th' steel, but th' making of weapons is more of a hobby f'r me than a craft." Arendi, of course, noted the dwarf's gaze moving professionally over their own gear. For a second Arendi had the fleeting impression that Morlin's gaze narrowed as it passed over the weapon at Aerilaya's side, but the dwarf didn't stop or hesitate to say anything by the time the impression registered. Morlin was dusting his hands off in a large box. "Did ye say Tiamat-worshipping hobgoblins? That's news to me. They're surely pressing all the roads west and south, but way I'd heard it was that the Council thought it was just a big warband laying in around the town."

"There's been hobgoblin raids in these parts a long time," he went on, unwrapping his hands and moving across to a bowl of water. "There's tribes up in th' Wyrmbones, ye see. Every couple years a couple gangs come down outta the mountains, annoy people, usually nothin' that bad. Town guard here's good enough t' see them off usually. Never known any hobgoblin gang ever had anythin' t' do with Tiamat, not since I been livin' here. I don't doubt yer conclusion, saer, but if so that's mighty strange tidings."

Morlin finished washing his hands and wiped them carefully dry with a rough cloth. He turned back to the two adventurers. "Can help yer lass companion wi' th' blindness right now, but it'll cost ye some coin. Sorry, if trade was comin' up the Dawn Way I'd likely cut th' price a little, but times're tough. Although -- guessin' from what ye say that ye came out o' th' west at any rate. Any chance ye recovered somethin' from th' hobgoblins? Or ye got somethin' with ye that ye might be willin t' trade over?"

[danielxcutter]

"Didn't bring those now, sorry, but we should probably have the time tomorrow or so. Just my friend's blindness now, please." Arendi said, opening the purse. He wasn't particularly fond about using it, but Aerilaya and the others had come dangerously close to meeting their own gods so Kelemvor might overlook this minor transgression. Hopefully, he'd be able to convince Alastor to return the rest.

"And I'm afraid these hobgoblins did have something to do with Tiamat. The band of raiders that attacked us had a cleric of hers, and even if our little group didn't have a dragonborn to tell us I'd certainly have recognized that symbol myself." the Greywarden said. "If you don't believe us, you can see the armor we got off the cleric. It has that distinctive five-clawed mark."

He shrugged again. "Speaking of which symbols, I like how you managed to put your god's in plain sight while not being too blatant. Clever. I'm not ashamed of my own Lord's, but the attention does get a little annoying at times."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya listened to both clerics speak, silently stepping forward a bit. The scent of steel and soot and fire were a bit more to her liking than the dust and animals of the road. It reminded her of her father.

Despite the bold stride forward, it was not to make any sort of announcement or declaration to the dwarf. She simply held her hands up toward the source of the warmth. The heat of the forge gave her some measure of comfort despite the lack of light. She could tell while walking to this building that the Sun was growing low in the sky, the evening chill creeping in.

"Can this be used to heat water, say for a bath?" The swordsage motioned above, toward the sounds of the creaking pulleys and wheels, and sound of the water. As she spoke, she reached into her satchel and retrieved her pipe. She took a small pinch of dried leaves from the bag and packed them inside with practiced ease.

As if making an assumption, the blind woman held out the tobacco pouch toward the dwarf's voice, offering what she had.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[danielxcutter]

Arendi pulled her back slightly by the back of her silk armor. "Aerilaya, that's the forge. I'm sure there are other ways that don't involve flames that make steel go soft."

[A.A.King]

"As you heard, Captain, we are a circus troupe, and as such we would like permission to perform in your lovely town. I am Alastor, the ringmaster and next to me is Diana one of my performers. We would like to set up our tent on your village greens and perform for the townsfolk for a few days to raise money to continue our tour. We were informed by one of your guardsmen, a Sergeant Hersk, that we'd need the council's permission for that and that you were the person to come see for that"

[Saintheart]

Alastor, Diana, and Libby

The Old Toll House,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"He was right about that," replied the captain. "Really I'd have to consult the Council under normal circumstances, but given the way things are with our hobgoblin problem I think the Council's just as likely to permit it anyway. The people here could use the diversion, not that there's a lot of coin in town at the moment to spend. So, yes - go ahead and set up." Anitah seemed to be looking them over, as if thinking about something. "How many of you are there all up? Those hobgoblin bands aren't exactly small in number from what we hear of the survivors - I'm guessing you must be a good ten or fifteen strong?"

----

Arendi and Aerilaya

Morlin's Smithy,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"Well, likely I've it easier than ye," said Morlin to Arendi. His grin creased the forge's soot into his wrinkled face. "For some reason I cannae ken, folk seem t' find symbols of the Forger of Souls less worrying than symbols of the Reaper of Souls. Sad, really. We all ha' our functions, and I'd wager yer Lord's business is more constant and vital than mine."

He turned at Aerilaya's question, chuckling. "Aye, lass, if ye planned on a scorched skin! The forge'll burn hot enough t' sear magic into the..." His words trailed off as she held out her tobacco pouch. He bustled over to her, thrusting a large nose over the proffered pouch, and took a long indrawn breath. His exhalation had a sigh and groan of sheer pleasure. "Soulforger's Hammer. Yukio Leaf!"

His hands danced with movement, taking the tobacco pouch, producing a long pipe from a pocket unseen, and filling it with a ruthless efficiency. Somehow his other hand managed to produce a flintstone and struck the pipe to life. Blue smoke fogged the air as he gently pressed the tobacco pouch back into her hand. He drew a breath so long he might have been a bellows himself, and closed his eyes as he breathed out, a sort of pleasurable growl coming with it. "Mighty hammers of the hidden caverns, it's been so long since I had good weed. No caravans from th' west, and ye might as well stick moss in yer pipe as smoke th' rubbish tha' comes from east, out of Dambrath."

Morlin snapped his gaze to Arendi, who had his hands in the gold pouch. "Ye close that purse, greywarden! Tha' pull of tobacco pays for this an' more." He took the pipe in one hand, and reached the other out, laying his palm on Aerilaya's forehead. "Moradin, god of the Folk, take the darkness from this woman's eyes."
Arendi was positive the torches in the smithy flared higher for a moment.
When Morlin took his hand away, Aerilaya could see again. He grinned at her. "Happens tha' banging on a forge all day tends to make the ears a bit dull. I make a habit o' asking the Soulforger to restore m' senses at the end of day's work anyway. 'Tis a mighty fine leaf ye've there, lass, ye come back tomorrow and share it again, do it please ya!"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi chuckled. "We're likely going to be staying here a few days, so there'll be plenty of opportunities. Thank you for the help. sonnlinor."

[A.A.King]

"Ten or fifteen? Well, it depends on how you look at it I suppose. You see, before I became the ringmaster of this circus I was an animal trainer by trade and when you look at some of our performers you can clearly see that. Personally I'd say the circus is thirteen heads strong, it's certainly my job to make sure thirteen mouths are fed. However, when just counting the independent performers than we're really only a group of six I guess. There is our strongman, our sharpshooter, our acrobat, our priest, our firebreather and of course me, ringmaster and animal trainer."

Alastor pauzes a bit before hastely adding

"We may not be the biggest show on the road but we're still very much worth a watch!!!"

[Saintheart]

Alastor, Diana, and Libby

The Old Toll House,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"I see." The Captain seemed about to ask something, but apparently thought better of it. "Well, there's likely room enough on the village green to pitch your tents and put up a platform if that's your wish. You might not find a lot of money in the village given the raiding that's been going on, but perhaps some of the refugees from the outlying homesteads might appreciate the diversion. If you do want to stay in one of the inns, the Green Apple's the one I'd suggest over the Old Bridge Inn. But it's a matter for you, the Old Bridge is a little more pricey but it's also more comfortable. I'll look forward to seeing your show, saer."

[Aracor]

"Which was why, at the nearest edge of the crowd, both goliath and drow spotted a man getting his purse slit by a boy no older than ten or eleven. They were both close enough to do something about it, even perhaps grab the urchin if it came to it..."

Vokon isn't going to do much, but he will speak.

Since I'm not in charge of law here, it's not my job to enforce the peace. But sir, I thought you should be aware that your purse is being cut open by that young man right there.

He points at first the man, and then directly at the boy. And then waits to see what the rest of the people in the area do.

[A.A.King]

"We look forward to seeing you in our audience, Captain!" Alastor then stood up. "Now if you'll excuse us, we need to our leave and help our colleagues with setting up the big tent. Adieu" Alastor then took his customary bow and left to return to the green.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

The woman blinked her uncovered eye several times before squinting and looking about. There was a pause as she lifted up the patch. The scarred and white eye was still very much non-functional. She gave a shrug and flipped the patch back down before sparking her own pipe and taking a draw.

"You have my thanks. I don't like having to hold hands just to avoid camel dung." She nodded in agreement to Arendi's statement. "We garnered plenty of steel from the goblinoids. Once the tents are up and settled, we'll make sure you're the first stop to off-load it."

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Dimers]

"Come to think of it, Alastor," Diana asked on the way out, "why don't the mules and camels have a place in the show? Not smart enough? I remember one time I saw a donkey that'd learned to drink beer from a bottle ..."

[Saintheart]

Aidan and Vokon

The Village Green,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"You thieving bastard!" shouted the man, spinning toward the boy. He was a fat man, but, as with a lot of overweight men, moved with a surprising if not terrifying grace and speed when the inclination was upon them. He lashed out with one big, fleshy arm, and missed - but connected with the other hand, grabbing the boy by the other arm. The boy's arm looked like a twig in the man's fist. Worse still, that was also the arm that held the boy's tiny, pathetic-looking knife, and with the man's impact and grip on the boy's arm, the knife went tumbling to the ground. Coins scattered.

The crowd (as crowds often were, at least in Vokon's and the-not-present Alastor's experience) seemed to hesitate; there were some who offered hisses of encouragement, and others who seemed to have the sort of look on their faces akin to confronting a bowl of sour milk at the man's actions. There didn't seem to be anyone who planned on intervening.

The big man had his hands on the boy's torso now, and was gripping him. The boy was fighting as hard as a ten year old seemed able, but the big hands were heading for the young pickpcket's neck.

[Aracor]

Vokon steps toward the two, and clamps one of his huge hands over the man's free hand like a vice.

I don't condone theft, by I also don't condone strangling a boy. How about we be reasonable, here? If the boy walks away with nothing more than he started with, no theft happened. And if no theft happened, then you have no cause to attack him, either. RIGHT?

He squeezes the man's wrist hard enough to hurt.

For that matter, you may be interested in picking up your coins that are now on the ground before someone else decides that them lying there means "finders, keepers". I doubt you're willing to get into a fight with everyone in the crowd who's interested in picking up a loose coin, now are you?

[Saintheart]

Aidan and Vokon

The Village Green,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

When Vokon's hand gripped his arm, the man began to say something. It was at some volume. It sounded, to Vokon's ears, like the beginning of an ancient Illuskan word relating to reproduction and ending in the word 'You', but in any event when the man looked up (and up) at Vokon, the words stopped rather efficiently.

This allowed Vokon to deliver the remainder of his suggestion, which was received with respectful silence.

When Vokon had concluded his words, the man slowly lowered the boy to the ground and let him go. The boy gave one look at Vokon with bright, narrowed eyes, and disappeared through the crowd. Vokon noted that the man's face appeared to now be rather moist, with drops of water rolling from his hair. Indeed the man's wrist appeared to have become rather sweaty all of a sudden. So the goliath released him. The man took a couple of steps back, massaged his wrist, and then bent to the ground, picking him loose gold coins where they had fallen. The crowd (as Vokon had found common in such circumstances) began to disperse, although the goliath noted to his satisfaction that a goodly portion of them were still hanging around, evidently interested in the tent he and Aidan could now proceed to finish setting up.

That's probably a convenient moment for any or all of Aerilaya, Diana, Arendi, or Alastor to show back up, having concluded their business at the Old Toll House and Morlin's Smithy.

[danielxcutter]

Heading to the Green with Aerilaya after getting her blindness removed, Arendi quickened his steps when he heard the commotion. By the time he'd arrived, though, it was over - plate was hardly made with speed in mind, after all.

He went up to the duo setting the tents up and asked, "Is everything all right?"

[A.A.King]

"It takes a lot of time to train an animal enough that it can do a trick impressive enough that people are willing to pay a few coins for having seen it and frankly I have my hands full with Pogo, Dobble and you guys." Alastor said in reply to Diana's questions. As they walked out they were just in time to see Vokon release his grip on a member from the crowed.

"What in the nine hells is going on here?!"

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None




Aidan had stopped his work to watch Vokon's back as he walked over to the man, Aidan's hand resting on a dagger by his belt, ready to throw if it should be needed. The situation escalated, as Aidan had supposed it would, one of the reasons he hadn't gone up to the man himself, but the figure quickly realized his error when he sized Vokon up. Just as well, Aidan thought as he removed his hand from the dagger hilt. He'd hate to pull a weapon in a town they had been in for less than two hours or so. At that moment Alastor and Diana returned from their meeting with the city leadership and from the other end of the town Arendi and Aerilaya came approaching, her blindness cured from the looks of it.

"What in the nine hells is going on here?!" Alastor shouted at no one in particular. Aidan figured Vokon could better answer that, especially since Arendi had just walked up to him. "Is everything all right?". Aidan nodded. "Some kid tried to pickpocket that man," Aidan said while pointing to the man picking up the coins off the floor, "Vokon alerted the man. The idiot tried to strangle the kid as punishment." He shook his head, expressing his disapproval. "Just as well Vokon stopped the man, or I might have had to throw something to knock him unconscious. That would have started a riot for sure." He started walking back to the tent and the rope he had just been knotting to make one of the guy lines. "Ah, well. All done now. Better get this tent set up before we miss the last of the light." With that he hunched down and started working the rope.

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya returned just behind Arendi. Her pipe held in her lips and her hands tucked into the billowing sleeves of her silk armor. She let out a puff of smoke and pulled a hand to offer a wave of greeting to her companions, making it obvious that she could see them once more.

"I guess it's time to get suited up then..." She headed to the camels to retrieve her pack where her form-fitting costume was stored.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Aracor]

I simply explained to the man (very politely) that as long as he still had his coins, that no theft had actually occurred. And trying to punish a boy for unsuccessfully stealing from him with strangulation seemed a bit over the top. He accepted the wisdom of my statement, allowed the boy to leave, and picked up his coins.

He sighed loudly, as if coming to a realization.

Though it occurs to me that I may have cost us a wealthy customer there. I know you have concern for such things, Alastor. Mayhaps you can turn this to our advantage with your words. Many of the others still standing around saw exactly what happened.

[Saintheart]

The Village Green,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Night fell over Drellin's Ferry drenched in red across the western sky, sending the Talar River to a sheen of silver, the distant Wyrmbone Mountains turning into black sentinels. The day's heat was not relenting; the wind had died and the town was draped in a blanket of stifling heat. But on the village green, the darkness and silence were held back by the murmuring of people and the torches that had been lit around a garish-looking, large tent in the centre of the grassy field. Curious onlookers were discouraged from peeking in through the gabled entrance by a large black bear which sat unceremoniously on its hindquarters right in front of the tent. The spectacle and the seeming inactivity from the tent seemed to just make the crowd more eager.

Arendi glanced around from his spot in said crowd. There were more people than he'd expected; the Green Apple on the northern side of the green looked to be emptying and the Old Bridge on the south side had even set up a couple of tables outside, though likely that was more for the weather than any apparent show. He guessed there'd be a good hundred people around now. He wasn't fully armoured, of course, but the bastard sword by his side still got a few inquiring looks. He wondered once again about the propriety of this, but Alastor had been fairly insistent that since Arendi had (yet again) declined to be part of the night's act, Alastor needed someone in the audience to judge the act and the reactions; 'Bright lights and the height of the stage keep you from really knowing the crowd,' or so the bulky halfling had said. At least, having declined, he'd had a little time to commune with Kelemvor at the hour of sunset, and feel the reassurance that came each time as the god's blessing entered him, to be granted to himself or others as he saw fit.

The crowd slowly kept building, until, at some unseen signal, Dobble got up from his seated position and ambled into the darkness of the tent. Before anyone worked up the courage to follow him, Alastor came striding out, with Libby on his shoulder. The halfling paused, letting the crowd see him and the murmuring grow. Then, with an indrawn breath that caused a creaking sound from his leather belt that even Arendi could hear, Alastor addressed the crowd:
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN--"
"(Arrk) And those of you who aren't ladies and aren't gentle with your men! (Squawk)"
"BE SILENT, YOU PESTILENTIAL, PUS-PAINTED PARAKEET! GOOD FRIENDS, YOU ARE MOST FORTUNATE! FOR THIS VERY NIGHT--"
"Because we could've gone to the future and performed there (Awwk!)."
"--THIS VERY NIGHT, THE GrrrEAT BrrrrEMER CIRRRrrrCUS HAS COME TO TOWN! WE ARE HERE TO PERFORM FOR YOU! YOU'LL LAUGH! YOU'LL CRY!"
"You'll kiss two good silvers goodbye! (Squawk)"
"AND I PROMISE YOU WILL SEE THE ON-STAGE PRREPARATION OF AN EXOTIC PIECE OF POULTRY FOR BARBECUING, IF HE CONTINUES TO VEX ME!"

Some minor boon of Kelemvor that rendered Arendi relatively impervious to this act, which seemed to be appealing to the townsfolk. At least they were laughing along, rather than laughing at. Whatever else you could say, Alastor's timing was on point tonight. He and Libby kept up the act for a good ten minutes or so, unobtrusively slipping in veiled references to Aidan and Diana being acts too sublime to see without introduction ('why, the insurance premiums alone would force me into destitution should I dare let an unprepared audience see them!') as well as hyping up Vokon and Aerilaya. Finally, with a great flourish of his ridiculously-coloured hat, the halfling swept Libby and himself into the doorway, calling on the audience to 'follow, who would dare!')

And they did: maybe not all of them, but enough to fill the tent. Which was, unaccountably, dark with shadow.

Vokon loomed out of the darkness like the prow of a somewhat mountainous ship. He'd been oiled up and his tribal markings had been covered with a glittering dust. He beheld the audience with a suitably grim look. And then the real show got started, because that was when Aerilaya threw off the black sheet covering her, revealing her wrapped around Vokon's shoulders like some sort of oversized snake, clothes sufficiently formfitting that not a male eye in the place strayed from her and not a female eye in the place failed to narrow. The goliath stood impassively as Aerilaya whirled and flipped herself around his body, the impression left that she was some sort of mountain climber dancing on a distant peak.

For long moments, the display went on. And then, at some signal, Vokon suddenly gripped Aerilaya's torso and hurled her high into the air. She flipped, somersaulted ... and landed, effortlessly, on a high wire twenty feet above the ground, one hand on her hip, light flaring around her to illuminate her movements. The crowd swooned. Vokon folded his arms once more below her, and now Aerilaya went into the rope routine - up and down, somersaults, aerials, a triple flip that made a woman and at least two men in the audience give agonised moans of fear.

And finally, she reached her hand to her hip.
A sword appeared there, as if conjured.
The crowd shouted its approval.

She drew the sword, hands gripped around the long handle, centring it raised before her...and fell from the high wire.
Men and women cried out. Aerilaya's form flipped over, head towards the floor, the sword gripped in her hands--

--Vokon's palms suddenly slammed together before him. They caught the blade of Aerilaya's sword vertically between them. His muscles surged as he pressed his hands together. Aerilaya was motionless; they were a work of art in stillness, she perfectly balanced, her body and weight artfully like a sculpture suspended above the blade, supported only by her sure grip on the weapon's handle, Vokon holding her up by nothing but the blade.

The tent filled with thunderous applause.

With a quick twist of her hip, Aerilaya flipped down to the ground, and effortlessly into a bow, the sword across her chest. Vokon took a step to the side and gave a formal bow as well.

Alastor appeared once more, amid the applause. He calmed the audience down enough get them out of the tent, and the ring of silver and gold into the bowls near the entrance replaced the applause.

The crowds took a good half hour to disperse, but in their wake were left two individuals, who came quietly up to the tent and approached the Circus as they were cleaning up from the evening's work.

The first of them Diana and Alastor already knew: Captain Anitah Soranna. The other, the one Anitah was with, was an older man somewhere in his fifties, dressed in what seemed to pass as the clothing of minor nobility around here: good quality clothing surmounted with a somewhat archaic-looking toga, draped over his shoulder.

https://images2.imgbox.com/0c/61/AsN3Lg53_o.jpg

"I'm sorry to trouble you," the man began, "I understand this has been a fairly exhausting day for you - but I'd like a few minutes of your time if I can. My name is Norro Wiston, and I'm the Speaker for Drellin's Ferry." Speaker was a familiar rank to Arendi and Alastor; points north of here, the title tended to be mayor, but old-fashioned rank or not, it meant much the same thing: a person who spoke for the entire settlement in all matters except a minority of cases which required the consent of the Town Council. "I believe some of you may already know Anitah Soranna, who's captain of our guard. I'll come right to the point - we're in a lot of trouble, and I was hoping I could persuade you to help us out."
"It's the hobgoblins," said the captain. "That warband you confronted is just a part of the bigger problem. Truth is, the town's under attack. Hobgoblin raiders have been harrying the area for several days. They've attacked and killed people in the outlying homesteads, and they've been waylaying travellers along the Dawn Way - and some of the smaller outbound trails, as you've seen. It's gotten to the point where all roads north, west, and now even south are unsafe to travel. There's a good fifty or more people who're taking refuge in town. It's too dangerous to stay out there in isolated hamlets."

Alastor recognised the road she mentioned, the Dawn Way: their map described it as the principal east-west road through Cannath Vale, running from Cannathgate at the eastern end through to Drellin's Ferry and then turning north through Shaareach Forest's southwestern end to terminate where it met the Old North Road and the Dwarfroad.

"We've had some trouble with hobgoblins before," continued the captain, "A raid now and then on farms on the west side of the river, usually not that bad -- but this is different. It looks like a large, aggressive tribe has moved down out of the Wyrmbones. Frankly, I'm afraid there might be enough of them to sack the town. I'm not really sure how many there are - maybe a hundred warriors. There have been at least three different warbands around our lands at the same time, each about fifteen to twenty strong, so fifty at the minimum." She hesitated. "I sent a dozen guardsmen west, up the Dawn Way to find out where the hobgoblins might be lairing, but they got cut to pieces a few miles inside the forest. The warbands have been using fearful monsters and evil magic against us. Hounds that breathe fire, even a couple of manticores."

Speaker Wiston nodded. "Beyond the immediate threat, the Dawn Way is our lifeblood. If the hobgoblins keep that road impassable to the west, trade won't come this way, and we'll be ruined. Opening the Dawn Way again is as important as repelling the raiders. So," he added with a friendly grin, "having just given you the leverage to extract an exorbitant sum of money from us, I can tell you we can pay you as much as five hundred gold each, if you can drive off the hobgoblins. And you're free to keep anything you find in the course of your investigation, of course, we don't tax or tithe on windfall gains here. What do you say?"

Take it as read that Arendi's had a chance to pray for spells.

Gold earned:
Alastor: 3d6 gold
Aerilaya: 2d6 gold
Vokon: 3d10 silver

[Saintheart]

Gold earned:
Alastor: [roll0] gold
Aerilaya: [roll1] gold
Vokon: [roll2] silver

[danielxcutter]

"It's not a bad cause, and the pay is tempting I'll admit..."

From behind the visitors, the greywarden walked up to them, pulling something out of his pocket,

"...but well, we came pretty close to having casualties fighting about fifteen, much less fifty."

Arendi held up hand, showing them his holy symbol - the scales and bones of Kelemvor - dangling from it. "And believe me, I'm more than qualified to say that."

[Saintheart]

The Village Green,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"We know." Wiston looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Believe me, if I could get the Shining Axes, I would, but we don't have that kind of money. Or the time. Frankly, you're the only travellers to come through out of the west for the past six days without serious casualties, and in all honesty our guard's not really equipped to meet this scale of a threat--"
"We're not asking you to hold an open field against a hundred hobgoblin archers all at once," interjected Anitah. She plainly wasn't going to stand there while the Speaker derogated her command to a group of strangers. "We think they're a lot more spread out than that. We can handle our share of small raiding parties, and I'm pretty sure they're lairing somewhere west of the Rhestwash, in Shaareach Forest. That's an area a good three hundred square miles from north to south, and the way the raids have been spaced out says pretty clearly that their warbands are trying to cover the whole length of the Dawn Way in that forest. What we've not been able to handle is the magic they're using against my guardsmen - which probably means there's a bright hobgoblin of some kind leading them. If it is a tribe out of the Wyrmbones, then if you can kill whoever's running the show, all our experience tells us the tribe'll disintegrate into a hundred warring factions by dawn. At that point we can handle ourselves. The problem is finding the leader, and then getting in close enough for a sword thrust. As said, I sent a dozen guardsmen up the Dawn Way, and none of them came back. So sheer numbers is out. Maybe a smaller crew'll have better luck."

[danielxcutter]

Arendi made a tsk sound, grimacing as he remembered the merchant and his bodyguards. "...Well, we'd probably do better than the average travelers, I suppose."

[A.A.King]

"You are in luck, we are not unfamiliar with the kind of work you're offering" Alastor said as he was counting the money they had just earned from the performance "the circus does sometimes require alternate revenue sources to stay afloat. The money you're offering is certainly tempting. I'm still not entirely certain on the numbers though. As my priest here has already pointed out, the fifteen we fought may not be a good indication of how well we'd do against the hundred or so you say that are out there. Sure, we may not be approaching them all at once in an open field, but we'd still be engaging them in their own territory where back-up for groups of them is a lot closer at hand then back-up for us would be. You say you already send a dozen guardsmen up the Dawn Way and that you feel a smaller crew would do better, but I think you'll find our troupe is thirteen heads strong, though I suppose you calculated with a smaller number when you said five hundred each."

Alastor put the coins away, they earned about as much as could have been expected from a town like this on openings night, but that still didn't exactly leave him with much to count...

"But that's just numbers, lets talk about time. When would you expect us to leave? We've only just arrived in this town and as you know the journey wasn't easy. This was only our opening night and I was hoping to at the very least put on another performance tomorrow now that word has had a chance to spread. We also have some more business in your town anyway, which at the very least would delay our departure anyway. I understand that you'd like to resolve this issue as soon as possible, before the situation gets even worse, but I hope you also understand that even though we'll be compensated for it that this is still a big ask that requires preparation and deliberation."

"All of this is not to say that we aren't interested, you've made us a very tempting offer, it is just not an offer that you can immediately say yes to, no matter how tempting. Would it be possible to set-up a meeting with the two of you tomorrow morning? It would give us a chance to talk this over in private and properly consider what you have suggested."

[danielxcutter]

"...Yeah, this is kind of a big decision to decide on the spot." said Arendi, nodding. He looked in the direction of the others and asked, "What about you guys?"

[Saintheart]

The Village Green,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The Speaker raised his hand before any of the Circus could reply. "If you need to deliberate, then by all means take some time to discuss it. I would only implore you to hurry. The longer the Dawn Way stays closed and this threat is not dealt with, the more our people suffer. Not just in trade, but consider the refugees from outlying farms that we are billeting. There are families who have no means of support while the hobgoblins range free across their lands. If you wish to see me tomorrow to discuss it further, please speak to Captain Soranna at the Toll House - she will send a runner for me. As said - I understand this has been an exhausting day, so take some time, but please do not wait long."

Nodding his goodbyes to them, Norro moved off with Captain Soranna, leaving the Circus to themselves.

[danielxcutter]

Once the two visitors had left, Arendi turned to the ringmaster and chuckled. "13 heads? Really? I won't stop you from striking a better deal, but I doubt they even have more than six thousand gold."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya had busied herself with retrieving the scabbard for her sword and loosening the braid that kept her hair from being caught in her face, or worse, in Vokon's face as he threw and caught her. Once her hair was combed out to a simple ponytail, she lit her pipe.

Standing, she draped her silks over her shoulders to give some modesty to her wardrobe and approached the group. "I go where the winds and coins take me." Holding out a hand, she accepted her share of the night's earnings from Alastor. Waiting to hear the others' thoughts, she absently rolled one of the coins over her knuckles with ease.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[danielxcutter]

"Mhm. Oh yeah, if it wasn't clear I think it's worth a shot as well." said the greywarden. "Exact amount of pay aside, I'm guessing you think so too, Alastor?"

[A.A.King]

"The thirteen heads comment was more about our mobility than it was about the pay. We aren't exactly a small strike force. Even without the caravan we're not exactly stealthy. We'll have to camp at least once to make to Wyrmbones, probably in the forest so we're going to need the caravan. We'll need a proper plan for this. "

[danielxcutter]

"...Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry." said Arendi sheepishly. "And good point - I haven't really prepared spells with that in mind."

[A.A.King]

"Which is another reason I made sure to give us the extra day to prepare"

[Aracor]

So if I understand this correctly, they want us to go traipsing through at least 300 square miles of forest until we find a band of goblins that seem to be leaders, and kill them so that their followers will splinter apart and no longer be a threat.

It seems to me that regardless of the reward, this is a fool's errand without more information, or we could waste days stumbling around and finding next to nothing.

[danielxcutter]

"...Damnit. I really should asked for more information."

Arendi scratched his head. "Well, this time we'd be going on the offensive though... I say we at least give it a shot, and then drop it if we're over our head. I'm pretty sure we'd do better than random guardsmen."

[A.A.King]

"The leader may not even be in the forest" Alastor said "the captain said that they thought the tribe was coming out of the Wyrmbones Mountains, this leader may very well have send his troops out while staying back himself."

Alastor took out their map. "The way I see it, the advantage we have is twofold. The first is that this time we will be properly expecting an ambush, and so we can adjust our travel speed accordingly. The second is that we, unlike a group of patrol guards, won't look like we're actually expecting an ambush let alone actively looking for one. If we travel down this road towards Skull Gorge then we are bound to encounter at least one of these groups. As long as we can capture at least one of them before they take a knife to their throat we might be able to find out where there leader is. If Aidan and Aeriyalla travel ahead of the caravan while using the trees for cover we should have a good chance of being able to ambush our would-be ambushers."

"These guys want to disrupt trade to this town, so they are unlikely to ignore such an seemingly defenceless target such as ourselves. If we can knock out one of them without killing it and then tie them up or put them in manacles before they wake up, we should hopefully be able to learn more than the townspeople have managed to up until now."

[danielxcutter]

"Yeah, we need a plan." said Arendi. "We can sell the stuff we got off the hobgoblins, and use the gold to buy magic items so we have an easier time dealing with them... oh speaking of gold..."

He turned to the ringmaster. "You know, we should probably return that wallet. If that merchant'd been a stranger to this area or he'd had no heirs then I'd be okay keeping it, but he does have family in the area and seems to be fairly well-known at that."

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None




Aidan had just come around the back of the tent when the Captain and the Speaker were leaving. From the conversation he distilled the gist of it, if not the exact price the town was willing to pay. He walked up to the group. "So what's the plan? Do we put up a show tomorrow night and leave? If we set out later, I might scout ahead. I won't be seen. You know I sleep very little, so I could leave tonight if you wanted. Scout out the road a ways and see what it is like. Might give us a heads up at least. I'd rather not walk into another trap like that again. And as for finding this group, if we find one warband I might be able to figure out what direction they came from. That would give us an inkling of the main body's direction." Then he shrugged. "And make them pay before we go. Just like those bloody politician types to make us do the work and not pay up."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya exhaled a plume of fragrant smoke and rolled her shoulders in a shrug as Arendi pleaded his case about the merchant's money. "Do whatever sets your conscious at ease. I've no reservations one way or another about orphans and widows."

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Aracor]

I am content to give his gold back to the widow. She will have need of it, with her husband's passing.

[A.A.King]

"In that case I am gonna need a volunteer to find this merchant's widow and somebody to go to the smith with the hobgoblins' gear while I talk to the speaker tomorrow to accept the job. Not sure they'll be willing to pay before we leave, seeing as they don't have much and we can't guarantee that we'll actually find this goblin leader. I'll see what I can do though.

That being said, we won't leave until the morning after tomorrow's show. Some reconnaissance can be useful Aiden but if you do leave at night take Libby with you. That way, as long as you're not more than a mile away when something does go wrong, I'll know about it. My link with Libby means I can feel what he feels and panic with him is always a strong emotion. Given how organised they apparently are, no point in taking the risk of you being completely alone."

[Aracor]

I'll be glad to go to the smith. I can help haul everything there in one trip. If Aerilaya wants to come (since she already seems to have made friends), we may be able to get a better price. It may be worth our while to continue on to the temple as well.

Alastor, when you're negotiating for our fee, make sure you also ask about any other potential sources of magic for us here. Are there any traders who would have access to something else? Arcanists? Perhaps bring Diana with you. Everyone seems to put up with your mouth better when she's around.

Oh, and I already mentioned it once: Wandering through 300 square miles of forest is NOT my idea of a good time. They have to have more information than that, or can point us in the right direction. Landmarks? Or even better, a guide?

That would be her social skill aura

He looks from one to the next. And if anyone's looking for something in particular, now would be the time to ask. We can certainly keep our eyes and ears open. Who knows what people may have laying around?

[danielxcutter]

"Hmm... I don't think people expect Kelemvorites to bear good news anyways, so I'll go find the family," Arendi said. "And if the goblins are in the forest, maybe more tanglepatches would help."

[Aracor]

"Hmm... I don't think people expect Kelemvorites to bear good news anyways, so I'll go find the family," Arendi said. "And if the goblins are in the forest, maybe more tanglepatches would help."
Remember not to catch yourself in the next one! And keep those things away from me, too.
Vokon chuckles as he says it.

[Dimers]

Perhaps bring Diana with you. Everyone seems to put up with your mouth better when she's around.

Caught off guard in her brooding, Diana snorts half a laugh before covering her mouth. But she regains her seriousness immediately. "I'll keep my mouth shut during negotiations, Ringleader, but knowing what I know now, you'd have to pay me to stay away from the hobgoblins. In case my stance wasn't clear before: this became a holy war as soon as I saw that five-claw star." No student of warfare, Diana doesn't seem to have aught to say about the strategy or tactics, just about her own profound drive.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None




"Good. I'll go turn in now then. I should be able to leave well before sun up to get some more info on the first few miles on the Dawn Way. I'll be back before dinner tomorrow. And I'll take a few of those tanglepatches in case I do get spotted. That will make following me difficult." As he starts to walk away, he mumbles "and that dang bird better keep his mouth shut while scouting..."

[A.A.King]

"Yeah, I figured it would be hard for you to say no to this particular offer" Alastor said in reply to Diana "glad we're all in agreement than."

He then turned his attention to the drow "And you better be back in time tomorrow Aiden. It's one thing that you sat out today's show but if tomorrow is going to be our only other performance in this town I want it to be a big one!! Once we've opened up this trade routes for them we need them to send word to the next town over that our show is not one to miss."

"That being said, I think that means we have our plan for tomorrow then. Make sure you all rest well"

[danielxcutter]

"Yeah, I'll go find the widow and then help you with the other things tomorrow. I'll prepare spells depending on what items we can get... oh right."

Arendi turned to the ringmaster. "Performance was good today, liked the jokes. Should have gotten people's attention. Not particularly interested in performing tomorrow either, but I suppose we might be able to do the apple-on-the-head thing or something I dunno."

He yawned. "Anyways, if that's it I'll be off to bed soon. Good night."

[Saintheart]

Arendi
At the Guardpost, Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The most logical place to start looking for the Sergeant, it seemed to Arendi, was the guardpost where they’d first encountered him yesterday. But when he came up to the guard station, Hersk wasn’t there, and the farmer with a spear Arendi spoke to first indicated that the sergeant had gone out at first light with three riders down this very road to recover some bodies.

Arendi wasn’t sure why the farmer seemed to be quite so subdued until he looked across to the other side of the road: in the shade of a drooping, white-trunked eucalyptus tree, there was a middle-aged woman with flame-red hair, sitting with quiet dignity in the shade. Arendi could see her fingers twisting as they grasped one another in her lap. There were three red-haired boys with her – various ages, somewhere from the morning of twenty down to the middle of the teens. All of them had a strong resemblance to one another; all of them had the same grim expressions on their faces.



Aidan
Along the Dawn Way, Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Eleven bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Aidan certainly had reason to be in a foul mood as the sun drew higher in the sky. He had been up before sunrise, but found himself confronted by an implacable enemy when he started out for Shaareach Forest in order to get a sense of the place. Namely: the Talar River, which was wide enough to keep one from realistically swimming it without being swept away. So he’d had to wait by the Ferry until a fat-bellied, irritatingly-jolly man named Drathgar turned up at sunrise to pole him across. For this Aidan had agreed to pay one silver piece.

He had cleared the town easily enough; nobody seemed to oppose him, and even the guardsmen on the post facing west had been initially startled by his appearance, but less concerned about the fact he was going out than going back in.

The fields soon enough gave way to the clearfell where they’d had timber cut, and sometime after that, the forest itself. The heat immediately enveloped him. Shaareach Forest was a stifling jungle even in the early morning, and he could feel sweat on his brow even as he decided it might be a good idea to head into the trees on the side of the road. The Dawn Way was certainly a dwarf-built road: tightly-locked pavers and cobbles had no specific sign of age, and despite a lack of maintenance there didn’t seem to be much in the way of weeds that grew from between the stones.

And there was some power alive in the forest. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Aidan could feel it the moment the road began to bend towards the north. He felt it like a sensation that the shadows were growing subtly deeper, a feeling that he could see spiders peering at him from random branches, a sensation that his back presented a wide and open target. He wasn’t accosted, though; he did come across the remains of a small campfire of some kind about three miles out from town, and the stink was consistent with hobgoblin, but there was no sign of the makers, and the best he could tell was that they might have turned back north up the road.

So it was a considerable surprise when he turned a small bend in the road and found himself looking at an old woman facing an easel. She was in plain, brown, homespun robes, sitting on a battered-looking stool, and the easel faced a small dip in the land where the forest became a small dell filled with trees and Jaslyn’s Pea hanging like little rubies in the early light. Her white hair wasn’t tied back, and she seemed to have a little smile on her face as she perused the landscape and then turned back to the easel, adding a dab of paint here and then a smudge there.

She turned and looked straight at him.

Her smile was genial and welcoming. “Ah! Wonderful! I do need someone to stand in, give it some scale. Would you mind? It’ll only be a couple of minutes.”



Alastor and Diana
The Old Toll House
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Eight bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

“Ah! Excellent,” said Captain Anitah as Alastor and Diana arrived. She set aside her quill in the narrow, stuffy office she was based in, and called outside to one of the guardsmen, who headed off to find the Speaker. She offered the two adventurers a cup of water each and pulled out two wooden chairs for them. One creaked under Diana’s impressive form, but held.

The captain folded her hands. “After we spoke last night I admit I spent a lot of time staring up at the ceiling thinking about the mission we proposed, and it occurred to me I didn’t tell you a lot about what I think you’re up against. If you don’t mind I’d like to go through it while we’re waiting for the Speaker. ”
“Of course,” said Diana.

The captain went to a cupboard and took out a long piece of parchment, rolling it out onto her table, securing the four corners with small lead oval weights.
https://images2.imgbox.com/05/ef/seT1fF4s_o.jpg

She gestured at the map. "This is the area I was talking about. Farthest western end of Shaareach Forest, but given the way we’re getting hit I very much doubt they’re holding out anywhere east of the Rhestwash. Like I said, it’s about three hundred square miles - this is about as good a map as we've got of the forest. It's been put together over the years from the stories of those who choose to live or wander the area. Even without the hobgoblins, there's precious few who'd go for holiday strolls in there - the forest claims a woodsman or hunter every year. We know the area around the Dawn Way best, that's a solid, dwarf-built road all the way through, and we tried to keep it that way. Most of the woodcutters are occupied just keeping the trees from reclaiming the road."

She rested her chin on a thin, elegant finger. "Now, like I said, normally we don’t get hobgoblins in big numbers down here. They tend to stay close to or in the mountains -- Shaareach melds with the foothills of the Wyrmbones to the west, you can see. So I was trying to figure out where the hobgoblins are based. There are hills and ridges in the wood, but not much that you could really call a choke point or defensible stronghold. The main natural barrier in the area is pretty much Skull Gorge. Melodramatic name, I know, but I've seen it. Fall off the edge of the gorge and you'll have a lot of time to think about it before you hit bottom. Of course, there's an old dwarven bridge, part of the Dawn Way, that crosses it. Either better built or it’s had better luck than the span that used to here, over the Talar,” she said, gesturing absently in the direction of the Ferry and the remains of the dwarven bridge next to it.”

“Once you’re across Skull Gorge, Cinder Hill is the last big natural landmark that way, from there the road drops into open country again. But given the way we're getting hit with raids, I'm thinking the hobgoblins have to be lairing somewhere closer, in the woods, especially since they cut down my men only a couple of miles inside the forest's edge."

She drew their attention back to the south end of the map. "Now, you were hit south of the river, so they must’ve forded the river somewhere I don't know about. For all I know they could've floated across on logs. But there hasn’t been anywhere near as much activity down that way, so I’m guessing you took care of the main band that was handling that area. Which brings us back to north of the river again.”

She folded her arms. “Anyway, I was racking my brain trying to think of where in the Nine Hells in the woods they could be based. None of that terrain is really clear enough to have large bands coming to and fro, the forest is pretty thick at the best of times, so where could you camp a group that size? And that’s when it hit me. Vraath Keep.”
She pointed to a small hump of ground on the map to the southwest of where the Dawn Way where the road intersected with a stream called Cold Creek. “It’s an old, ruined castle, supposed to be somewhere around this hill, about fifteen miles along the Dawn Way. It’d make sense if the hobgoblins took it for their stronghold. They might not care that it’s supposed to be haunted.”
“Vraath Keep is supposed to be a lot of things," said Speaker Wiston. He was standing at the door of the captain’s office with a patient smile.
"Jorr Natherson told me he's been there," Anitah countered.
"Jorr Natherson told me he fought off ten Harpers once," said Wiston. He turned to the companions. "You would be hard-pressed to find anyone here who knows that ruin’s exact location. It fell long years ago -- the forest reclaimed any direct paths to it there were. That, the rumours of ghosts, and the forest itself have kept most sane people from looking for it. Of course," he chuckled, "it doesn't stop the odd party of treasure-hunters searching for the place. The ruin and the ghosts and the location seem to go together with stories of a treasure associated with it. Not that anyone has managed to find said treasure - not even Jorr Natherson."
"He hasn't found the Fool's Cache because he doesn't dare," replied Anitah. "He told me he won't set foot inside the ruins. You didn't see him when he was talking about the place."
"I’ll say this much, if you’re planning on looking around in Shaareach Forest, you won’t find anyone who knows the woods better – he’s been living out there for decades, longer than anyone sane would have lasted anyway. Has a small cabin out there. But right now I’m more interested in ending the hobgoblin threat and reopening the Dawn Way. So? Have you had a chance to think over the proposition?”



Vokon and Aerilaya
Morlin's Smithy
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Morlin Coalhewer had a broad grin on his face when Aerilaya and Vokon walked in. He set down the ingot of steel he had in his hand and bustled his way to the entrance of the smithy. "And a good morning to ye, lass! Half th' town's talking about yer performance last night, sorry t' say I didn't see it. Ye might ha' t' watch out for suitors th' longer ye stay in this town, plenty enough idiots aroun' here get all doe-eyed when a girl walks by, much more the case a fine lass who knows good weed!" He turned to Vokon. "And this would be yer partner from th' act. The rumours do not do your friend justice." He bowed respectfully to the goliath. "Ard-Kazok, Go-Karn."

Vokon had met enough dwarves to confirm the story that they respected goliaths, but it had been a long time since he'd heard the words of Gol-Kaa, the goliath language; much longer since someone had addressed him politely and wished him a good day in that language.

Morlin looked sidelong at the improvised travois the two had dragged down from the green, containing everything they planned on selling (or at least seeking a sale on it). The dwarf grinned. "Well, I'd ask what I can do for ye, but I've a feeling I might know what ye have in mind. Ye wanting something other than gold t' trade for this, or is it just th' holy metal ye seekin' off yesterday's hard work?"

To try and save some time on the calculations, Morlin's willing to take what you've got at 75% of book price, which is a bit better rate than the standard 50%.

The trick is this: the settlement's got an 800gp limit, so absent trading for goods, you might have to suck up an IOU from Morlin if you're looking to ditch everything today. It is a small town.

In terms of the gear that he has on display, +1 weapons are apparent, but basically give me a list of what you're looking for and we'll see if it's something Morlin carries or he has to dig up off somebody else.

[danielxcutter]

"...Hello." said Arendi, cautiously walking up to the woman. "...Would you be the Lakelocks?"

He was pretty sure, but it wouldn't hurt to check. And if they had something do with the other victims, then perhaps a kind word could help a bit.

[A.A.King]

"Yes, we've had time to think about your proposal, and we're willing to cut our stay in your village short and make tonight's performance our last until we solve this hobgoblin issue with you. That being said however, there are still some things we'd like to negotiate. First there is the matter of pay. As you said last night, given your current situation we are the ones holding the leverage at the moment. Now it is not my intention to try and bleed you dry, I believe the offer you've made me is fair and trust that it is about as much as you're willing to pay to a bunch of strangers who only just arrived in your when you're dealing with trad problems. The problem I currently have isn't the amount but rather the time of payment. We'd like to be payed at least half up front. This is partly so that we can buy some of the supplies we'll need to succeed and partly as insurance because what you're asking of us is difficult and the attempt alone deserves to be rewarded"

"I also came for more information, though your captain already provided a lot of that while we were waiting for you. Would you happen to have a copy of this map? As well as an address for this Jorr Natherson fellow? If you are right and they are hiding in that castle than he is probably someone I should talk to today as well"

[Saintheart]

Arendi
At the Guardpost, Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"That's right," said the eldest boy, turning towards him and ever-so-subtly putting himself between the woman and Arendi. His face was a mix of grief and anger. "Who are you?"



Alastor and Diana
The Old Toll House
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Eight bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Wiston smiled. "You might have some difficulty knocking on Jorr Natherson's door before you head into the forest," he said. "His cabin's actually out in the forest itself. It's a little out of the way, but as you say it could be worth the walk. If you're on the Dawn Way, take a right on a trail about nine miles from the forest's edge."
"Or, if you want to avoid the Dawn Way, the other way there is along the Old Cutters' Trail. Starts off as a road immediately north once you're across the ferry," said the Captain. "Peters out into a path a mile or two out of town. Go left at the first big trail crossing - Jorr's cabin is about seven miles in, near the Blackwater - eastern end of the marsh that Swift Creek waters. But you can have this map," she added, indicating the map she had laid out. "We have a few copies here just in case."
Wiston cleared his throat. "As to your counteroffer - done. So given there's six of you, at five hundred gold each, that's a total of 3,000 gold for the whole job, with 1,500 now, and the rest when you've brought back proof that the hobgoblins have been routed from the wood. Just a moment." He was only a minute or two out of the room before returning, handing over a discreetly nondescript cloth pouch that held the first half of the payment.

[danielxcutter]

"Ah. I see." said the greywarden, pulling off his haversack and taking out Janeth's purse. "Then I believe this would belong to your family. I'm sorry that we couldn't bring your father back ourselves."

[Saintheart]

Arendi
At the Guardpost, Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The boy looked at the purse in his hands, then back at Arendi. "This belonged to my--? Where did you get this? Did you steal--"
"Tyrmon," said the woman. She had gotten to her feet and was moving toward Arendi. Her eyes were brown and her face had fading freckles. "That's enough. It's your father's purse. He was taking it to Sheirtalar - he had a transaction he thought could solve our problem once and for all."
"What transaction? I thought he didn't--"
She looked at her son with eyes that were still swollen from the tears. "There was a shipment of adamantine. He was going to buy part of it with a couple of other traders, sell it at a profit over in Rethmar."
For a second the boy, Tyrmon, seemed about to argue with her. But then grief overwhelmed the young man, and he bowed his head.
The woman looked back at Arendi. "Forgive my manners, saer. I am Danuta Lakelock, husband to Jendar. These are our three sons. You must be the greywarden Hersk told me about, the one that came in with the circus last night. You have my thanks, saer. Not all men would have sought out a widow to return a raider's spoils." She put her fingers to her mouth, and in the morning light Arendi could see the water forming there. "I .. know you are of the Lord of the Dead, saer. When you found ... when you found him, did -- did you have a chance to give h-him the ... proper rites?"

Arendi didn't have an opportunity to respond, because that was the moment a wagon rounded the last turn before the guardpost. There were riders to either side, moving at a slow walk, and Sergeant Hersk was leading the horse hitched to it. In the buck of the wagon four long forms had been wrapped in makeshift sheets. As the wagon slowly made its way up to the checkpoint, the farmers on the guardpost removed the leather caps or helmets they wore.

[danielxcutter]

"The Passing's traditionally said at the last moments, but there's other - " He cut off when he saw the wagon come in. "...Ah."

He hesitated for a split second, handed it over quickly to the nearest boy, and said "I, uh, I'll give you a few moments."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya produced the pouch on queue. Finding a suitable work bench, she hopped up and pulled her own pipe from a pocket. She gave it a knock clean as she waited for the dwarf to gather himself up a pinch.

"Hopefully, the majority of those idiots would recognize a woman skilled enough with a sharp sword doesn't need to waste her time handling theirs."

Once her pipe was packed and lit, she looked around. It was obvious she wasn't in a hurry to leave. "What we can trade for or take as credit is fine. Lugging all that around might be easy enough for Vokon here, but it's much too noisy for my tastes."

She motioned up to the automated bellows with the tip of her pipe. "I still think this contraption could be used to circulate bath water instead of air... an unending supply of warm bath water. Mmm... a girl might consider settling down for something like that."

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[A.A.King]

"It was a pleasure doing business with you" Alastor said, as he took a copy of the map as well the advancement on the payment with him "I hope to see you at tonight's performance, turns out it will be our big closer before we leave the city." he said with a grin. Alastor then did his customary bow before he and Diana went back to the big tent to watch the animals until the others returned.

[Saintheart]

Arendi
At the Guardpost, Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"Boys," said Danuta Lakelock tightly. "See to your father."
The three young men turned and dragged their feet in the direction of the wagon. Hersk respectfully halted as the eldest came up to him, placing a mailed hand on Tyrmon's shoulder as he slowly passed the lead rope over. The Sergeant was saying something to the young man that Arendi couldn't hear.

Arendi turned his attention back to Danuta, who had just wiped away a tear. She took a deep breath and looked at the greywarden once more. "There are things we'll need to do, saer. I thank you again. But ... I would be pleased if you could come to my husband's warehouse at noon today. There is something else I need to speak with you about."
She turned and walked slowly toward the wagon.



Vokon and Aerilaya
Morlin's Smithy
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"What?" Morlin looked up from the suit of leather armour he was holding. "Ye sayin' yer travellin' companions haven't found ye a hot bath yet? Great Hammers of Moradin, we're not savages in this town! Ye go t' the Old Bridge Inn, they've hot water in baths, cost ye a few gold, but ye don't even need t' stay th' night!" He tossed the armour across a table, and moved across to the array of weapons and other objects they'd brought to him. "Well, doesn't look like there's anythin' terribly out of th' ordinary here. Not much to tell from the smithing -- looks like regular hobgoblin rubbish work, probably out of their dirty forges in the Wyrmbones where they all skulk when they're not bothering normal folk. Looks a little more mass-produced than usual, but that's abou'--"

His words trailed off as he picked up one of the iron rings they'd recovered. His brows shot together. He immediately began to handle the ring gingerly, peering at the faded remains of the burned markings on them, and keeping his fingers well away from them. It was difficult to read Morlin's eyes other than see five or six emotions wash across them in quick succession. Finally, he turned, abruptly, with speed that belied his frame. "Ye got these from the hobgoblins' weapons?"

[danielxcutter]

Noon, eh? I wonder what she means. Arendi wondered.

He stood there for a few moments more, then headed back to the Green. There wasn't much for him to do at the moment so he might as well spend his time there.

His footsteps were a bit lighter than before, but still heavy.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None




"Arraah! Spotted! Silly, silly elf, letting the woman see you!" Libby was in a nearby tree, mockingly cawing the fact that the woman had somehow seen him. Just as well, because if Libby had been within an arm's length the bird would be missing a few feathers about now. Aidan stood up straight, properly revealing himself, and walked nearer to the woman. "Lady, though I do not doubt you have good reason to paint in this grove, I can hardly recommend it. Hobgoblins have been harassing travelers on the road, many of whom do not live to their tale. Unless you have some skill in magic or steel I cannot divine from your appearance, you would do well to return to Drellin's Ferry. I am following the hobgoblin's tracks on order of the city council, so the road back to town should be safe." "Arraah! Fancy words for elf with ugly personality!"

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

"Hmm? Oh, yes. You can see where each of the bows had a similar ring. I think their blademaster had several, didn't he?"

Aerilaya seemed to not be paying much attention to the finding, still looking at the dwarven forging contraptions. Her question was directed to Vokon, who had done the collecting and carrying of the gear. Her tone was relaxed, almost dismissive compared to Morlin's query.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Aracor]

Lothakal lanae lulakamana! Earth brother, it has been long since I heard Gol-Kaa!

It is only fitting that I respond in kind. I hope you are well, and wish honor to you and your clan.

I don't suppose you have any weaponry here that would be sized appropriately for me? I was considering some throwing axes to go along with my hammers.

He visibly perks up at hearing his own tongue.

Yes, those rings were attached to some of the bows and swords, both. Arendi confirmed that they had magic, but it was expended by the time we got to it. I don't know that we have more information than that. We'd appreciate any expertise that you can provide.

[Saintheart]

Vokon and Aerilaya
Morlin's Smithy
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Vokon and Aerilaya were people of the world, and more significantly had been travelling in Aidan's company for quite some time now. Still, both of them were taken aback by the inventiveness and length of the string of foul language that came streaming from Morlin's mouth in the wake of their answering his question. It was biologically improbable, colourful, oscillated between dwarven and Common, and stinging enough to just about peel the tribal markings off Vokon's body. Indeed the reason it probably didn't do so was because it was directed to hobgoblins of all kinds rather than the goliath. The dwarf turned away, snatched up a nearby forger's hammer, and swung it at the nearest anvil with enough force to make the four-hundred-pound metal quiver in its position and set the adventurers' ears to ringing. The stream of swearing continued unabated, now interrupted -- punctuated -- by the blows of the hammer on the metal. The dwarf's swearing grew louder, as did the pounding on the forge, until with one last eye-watering suggestion for hobgoblins of all kinds, the dwarf hurled the hammer at the back wall of the forge. The hammer whistled through the air, and the blow wasn't enough to crack the stone it hit, but it did take out a pretty sizeable chunk from the rock.

"Ye stinkin' bastards!" the dwarf roared, glancing around with hands clenching as though looking for something else to hit. Then his gaze fell across Vokon and Aerilaya. The dwarf seemed to remember they were there. He gave a snarl and bowed his head across the table where the iron rings sat, hands splayed on the table as if to support his frame, his white headband already drenched with sweat, huffing with the effort.

At length, the smith took a deep breath and raised his head. "M'apologies, saers. 'Tisn't anythin' ye done. 'Tis what was on these rings. 'Tis known t' me. T' me people. These rings - no, the writing on them, in truth - they're works of rune magic. It's an old way of crafting spells into writing. 'Tis not that much different from the way one brews a potion, or makes a wand, in truth. A cleric, or some such magician touched by the gods, casts a spell into the writing placed on an object, and when anyone touches the writing, the dweomer breaks free, casting the spell upon the person who touched it - surely as if the cleric had cast the spell himself at that moment."

Morlin held up one of the rings, brows merging, eyes gleaming in the firelight. "But in its way, it's a far more powerful way of holding a spell in an object. Potions, wands -- these things can only hold so much magical power, can only sustain spells of a certain strength. And it takes a good day at least to make one. Runes like these can hold any spell the cleric can gain from his god, or from other places, and it'll take minutes to make one. And the rune will last indefinitely, until one touches it. And there's nothing to stop one using more than one rune at once, if the runes are placed wisely. Any finger can touch it, and the spell will be unleashed. These runes contained only a single charge of magical energy; use them once and they disappear, leaving you with nothing but a piece of iron. I was told there were rune magicians -- runecasters, they called them -- of such power, ones who devoted their lives to the study, and they could accomplish incredible things. Runes that regenerated their own charge, runes that could be used every day. The greatest -- the ones they spoke of in whispers -- could make runes that never faded away, runes that would always cast a spell forever."

The smith looked steadily at the goliath and the woman. "This way of magic was the secret of the shield dwarves, far and away to the north, for thousands of years. Perhaps it should have been left to Dumathoin, Keeper of Secrets, rather than dwarfkind, to guard its lore. But the lore did escape them. Generations of dwarves have devoted their lives to hunting down every creature, be he giant, goblinkin, or gnoll, who managed to discover the secret of runecasting. But the fact you found these in the hands of stinkin' hobgoblins only proves that they failed, as we knew they would. There are precious few in the world who know the secret outside dwarvenkind, but there can be no other conclusion - somewhere, the hobgoblins have found one who knows rune magic. Or th' one ye killed knew how to make the least of 'em, that'd explain th' painter's set. So," said Morlin, laying the ring on the nearest bench with a heavy clank, "I can give you nothing to neutralise them as such. But, on the Soul Forger's hammer, I'll do all I can to help you. Because, you see, I am a cleric of the Soul Forger. And I know the secret of inscribing runes. And I can do damned better than some gods-damned hobgoblin hedge cleric who wants to bring death on my town with holy dwarven arts!"

With an effort he calmed himself again, turning to Vokon. "I believe I'd have a few things t' yer size, saer. Whether it's here or stowed somewhere in th' back, I c'n likely find somethin' t' fit ye. Ye're not th' first big lad I've had to sharpen steel for."

Morlin's a cleric 5/runecaster 3/expert 1 with the Inscribe Rune and Craft Magic Arms and Armor feats, so he can render any cleric spell he can cast as a rune. He's a runecaster 3, which means he can also make multiple-charge runes or runes that trigger when read or passed.

The cost of a rune: spell level x minimum caster level x 50 gold x number of charges required. (If it's a rune that triggers when read or passed, the cost is doubled.) Takes 10 minutes + casting time of the spell to craft a rune.



Aidan
Along the Dawn Way, Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Eleven bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"Well, of course it's safe, dearie, there's no hobgoblins here right now," said the old woman, turning back to her easel and adding a spot of paint into the picture. "If there were I wouldn't be painting a picture now, would I? Of course not. Now, would you mind coming down here and helping me with this picture? I do find it hard to get people to pose, they all think I'm crazy or something, let alone the fact it's hard enough to find people to pose all the way out here where the light's best."



Arendi
At the Lakelock Warehouse, Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Noon, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Finding the warehouse was straightforward; it was just a matter of asking his way there. Jendar's warehouse stood across the river from the Green, meaning the last few minutes before noon were spent with the young cleric sitting on a ferry, gazing southwest, down the Talar River as it began its long journey to the Shining Sea. Drathgar, the ferryman, charged him a silver piece, and offered no conversation for the privilege, just a grim expression as he saw Arendi across the river.

The warehouse doubled as a home, or so it seemed. The warehouse stood out the front, brightly coloured in green and red, but a chain had been drawn across the entrance and Arendi's search took him around the rear to a small, three-roomed cottage sitting in the shadow of the wide wooden structure, built with a flat roof from white stone, which seemed to be common around here. The trees of the local wood all but backed onto the cottage, more of the white-trunked eucalyptus with drooping, weeping dark green leaves that hung almost to the ground in places, the bases of the trees hidden with scrubby, drab brush.

Danuta answered his knock at the door. She was in a black dress and was wearing a black veil, wrapped around her face. Its fashion was old - shaped more like a translucent hood than a true veil, with the edges of the hood lined with black ribbon inset with tiny pearls. In his time, and in his profession, Arendi had seen several such. It wasn't as though even merchants could afford the luxury of a black robe for every death, so such veils were often handed down from mother to daughter in anticipation of sadness to come. Either way, the veil accomplished its task; her red hair was hidden and one couldn't see the trails of tears from her eyes. Beyond her, within the room, Arendi glimpsed her husband's form lying in state on a long table in the central room of the house. The three boys were also dressed in black and were slowly moving around the body, making sure things were in their place.
"Please, come with me, saer greywarden."
She led him away from the house, south, down to the riverbank. When the house was visible only as a sketch between the trees, she turned to him. "I ... have a favour to ask of you. It's a large favour, one I shouldn't be asking of you at all ... but I am asking all the same. I want your help to send my husband's body on."

She didn't wait to hear his reply, but took a step north, inclining her head northeast, in the direction of the Ferry, but taking into account the Talar River and all the green line of Shaareach Forest that stood on the horizon that way. "Jendar ... my husband ... he may only have been a merchant, but his family has been living in Cannath Vale for generations. The Lakelocks were noblemen, once, long ago. The stories told us their name came from the kingdom of the lake, beyond the woods, that fell long ago. His family was here when the dwarf bridge fell. They were foresters, and they respected the Earthmother, Chauntea, borderers on the edge of the kingdom . They birthed their children along the river, they raised them on the river sand, they anointed their fathers' heads with water and fire when one of them passed. They were given the ritual of manhood in the Grove of the Old Ones. They were sworn to the Vraaths, who fell long ago, and still they remained."

She looked at Arendi. "Times have changed, of course. There is no king in Cannath Vale, only Rethmar and Cannathgate and the little places in between. And this town has changed, too. It is all the domain of civilised folk. Farmers, not hunters. Not borderers. And their traditions have changed, too. Once there was a shrine to the Earthmother, and singing. Now there is a shrine to Lathander, above the village, and a ceremony that speaks only of light and rebirth, not of being one with the river and the land. And there is no anointing with water and fire. Only burial in the cold ground." She bowed her head, and Arendi looked away to allow her to dab at the tears that would not remain unshed.

He looked back to her when she touched his shoulder. "What I ask is that you help me send my husband on at sunset tonight, in the old way." She gestured downriver to where a narrow jollyboat had been beached. "We will take his body down there, and lay him in it, and send him on, fire the boat as it goes down the river. Anoint him with water, and then anoint him with fire, and let him sail the river to reach your Lord's realm." She must have seen his hesitation. "I know you do not know the words of the old way. It is not required - only that a man of the gods be there to administer the ritual. The ... man ... who presides over the shrine of Lathander has preached against this way. He has called it barbaric, a ritual of an old time best forgotten. It is not. I swear it. But no man will go against him who comes from this town. And unless the ritual is conducted, Jendar's fathers will not welcome him once your Lord has judged him."

Her grip had become tight on his shoulder. She seemed to realise it, and released him with a start. "I am sorry. I ask much. If you do this, you set up a conflict between you and the master of that shrine. But I cannot let my love's ways go dishonoured. And I cannot face the swine Iormel, who will be at the burial with prideful, greedy eyes. He is the real author of my husband's death. So I ask. And I will wait here, at sunset, for you, with my sons."

She dabbed at her eyes once more. "There is something else I must let you have, regardless of whether you come or not. You returned a purse that was yours by right of claim. My husband's people honoured such acts in a world where what is found is deemed the property of the finder. There is a debt that is owed and must be paid."

She led him back up to the warehouse. Crickets dree'd in the heat. Asking him to wait outside, she moved into the house like a troubled shadow, and re-emerged with a long, thin object wrapped in grey cloth, and handed it to him. Unwrapping it, Arendi's suspicion given the size of it was confirmed: it was a hand-and-a-half sword in a lacquered black scabbard, its handle lined with sharkskin, the pommel and crossguard finished in silver. To his surprise, where the crossguard met the handle, the image of a tiny scale had been placed in bas-relief.
"This weapon my husband said had the name Reason," she said. "It has been in our family a long time. I cannot wield it, and my sons are training to different weapons. And even if Iormel reduces our family to a copper piece, I would not sell this weapon to pay the price. It is yours. May you find better use for it than we did. Do not tell me it should be mine. Do not dishonour my husband's name by doing so."

Arendi drew Reason. The weapon cleared leather without a sound. Fifty inches of steel shone in the midday sun. Even looking at it, Arendi could see there was more to it: the weapon was magical, clearly, from the subtle difference in the weight and balance he had known from ordinary blades, but the edge was sharper than he'd seen in many such weapons - and that wasn't a property of the magic, it was the property of the sheer craftsmanship of the blade. He carefully returned the weapon to its sheath.

The sword is a +1 bastard sword, but it has the Razor Sharp quality from Dragon #358, which in game terms just means: it does an extra +1 in damage. And it's, well, razor sharp. Enjoy.

[danielxcutter]

"This... I see. We've actually been hired to drive the hobgoblins away, so it'll soon find use." Arendi said softly, detaching his own blade from his belt and replacing it with Reason. "And we head out tomorrow, so I doubt that priest will be too much of an issue either."

He bowed slightly to the widow. "Very well, I shall be there then."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

"Oh my..." Aerilaya couldn't help but smirk at the outburst. It was good to see someone able to cuss better than a sailor. Her companions were so... nice.

She swung her legs off the table, landing lightly on the ground again. "I'll leave you two to business then... I've no need for magics, runic or other. And none of your weapons would do me much good. No offense to you I'm sure you craft a fine blade. It's just that my hands are spoken for."

With an exhale of smoke, the smirk became a full smile. "I do believe I'll head to the Old Bridge for that bath. A performance tonight and traveling again tomorrow. What a weary life..."

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Aracor]

Sounds great! I'd appreciate a couple of throwing axes, and possibly a one-handed weapon that fits me. Warhammer? Morningstar? Longsword?

What spells do you have prepared today that you could put into a rune? And do you prepare spells in the morning? I do believe a rune that can keep me moving if we run into more Tanglefoot bags would suit me nicely if you have such a thing available.

And is there anyone else in this town who can craft magical supplies of different types? Does the more well-known temple have a cleric? Is there a wizard?

[Saintheart]

Vokon
Morlin's Smithy
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Nine bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Aerilaya departed for the warm baths of the Old Bridge Inn. (And they were superb. And they cost her 2 gold pieces. And they even had tubs large enough for the biggest goliaths around, apparently based on the fact that the ferryman Drathgar's ancestors had been descended from forest giants living in Shaareach Forest, but Vokon of course did not find that out until later.)

Morlin frowned at Vokon's mention of longswords. "Why would a big lad like yerself all happy and sweet wi' that great mallet over yer shoulder want t' start pickin' up edged weapons? 'Tis like puttin' coffee and tea t'gether in th' one cup, an affront t' good taste, earth brother!" Then he grinned suddenly. "But who am I t' say what taste is? Aye, lad, I've a longsword and a morningstar if ye want them. And I might jus' have a warhammer back here that'd suit yer size, too. Still, ye want throwing axes, well, I've a few quality pieces and I've a magical one too. But if yer planning to throw things around, I've somethin' ye might find useful as well." He bustled over to a wooden draw and reached under it, seemingly looking for a hidden catch of some kind. A draw popped open and the dwarf grabbed something small from inside it, coming back to Vokon. He opened his thick, lined palm to reveal two little crystals, perfectly cut into dodecahedrons. Milky white, the crystals seemed to gather their own light in the shade of the forge. "Aye. These'll hold themselves t' any weapon ye hold, and they'll let ye call yer weapon to yer hand from a good six paces out." He laid them on the table for Vokon to peruse.

"Now, as for other folk who sell other such arcane items ... well, ye've three options in this town, though none of them make weapons and if they did, none of them make them better than me. Still," and he tapped off three of his thick fingers--

"For a start there's Sertieren. Idiots aroun' here call him Sertieren the Wise, do it please ya, but only on account o' th' fact he's got more snow on his hilltop than most around here. Halfling. Wizard. Mostly has scrolls of arcanists around, couple of magic rings and such. Same idiots who call him wise also think his house up on th' bluff is haunted, but frankly given Sertieren it's more likely stuffed with biscuits than with ghosts."

"Over far side o' the river there's Avarthel. Strange young lad, makes his home near a stone circle the folk here call the Grove of the Old Ones. He's likely a druid, but he'd be one o' th' last out here - his master died a few years ago, and he's on his own. But he makes a good potion or two, nothing too formidable."

"And lastly ye got Kandil of Rethmar up at the Lathanderian shrine. I've not much t' do with that faith, but I hear he has scrolls of his god available t' buy if the price is right."

So:

Basically if you're looking for a +1 weapon Morlin's definitely got it, as well as masterworks. He has two Least Crystals of Return for sale as well. That said, people making a list off in the OOC thread and us working through it is probably the better option.

As for the people he's talking about:

Sertieren the Wise: basically, wizard scrolls of 3rd level or lower, craft Wondrous Items of 5th level or lower. He has some arcane scrolls and potions available if you're looking for them, and a random ring of protection or two.

Avarthel: potions of druid spells of 3rd level or lower. Brew Potion feat. Potions of barkskin, lesser restoration, cure light wounds, neutralize poison.

Kandil of Rethmar: cleric scrolls of 3rd level or lower.



Arendi
The Green, Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Afternoon, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Arendi had settled down to study.

Study, in this case, being a moment of prayer. Of a sort. He began, as he had been taught, with a centring of himself, commencing the prayer with the reminder that he was mortal, that he was here only to be mortal, and that he would one day share the path of those to whom he ministered. He focused on the nothingness and the grey that was taught to him of the Fugue Plane, and it cleared his mind. And then he waited.

His Lord came.

Or at least an avatar; a shadow. There was an icy touch which did not chill the blood; a space between heartbeats that did not cause fear. And Kelemvor's blessing was upon him.

Arendi opened his eyes, and reached for the tome he had carried with him. His fingers caressed the spine and then the pages, and, as he knew it would be, they detected a little indentation which in normal life he would have sworn was not there. But the guidance of Kelemvor was upon him and he opened the book without hesitation, scanning the page that was revealed to his hand.

Yes. Yes.

The monastery in Chondath had not taught much of this area, but the book did reveal that Kelemvor's priests--.
No. Not Kelemvor's priests. It had been a sect of the dead god Myrkul's followers, centuries ago, when the Lord of Bones held power over the world of the dead and death itself was a fearsome concept in the world. These followers had, it seemed, been more of the ascetic kind, and they had come here long ago, bringing with them old rites that pleased Myrkul. It made sense, in a certain way, that Lathander's priests would have seen the rites as barbaric; they were, after all, the work of a people questionable even to Myrkul himself. But Myrkul was long gone, and Kelemvor was Lord of the Dead, and the rite propagated here to see on the dead was an old yet not unfamiliar one; it had its echoes in the burning of dead men in their ships far and away to the north, but the rite was sacred and individual nonetheless.

The anointing with water was more subtle than Danuta had suggested; the water had to be tainted with a certain incense made from the essences of basil and rosemary, in just the right proportions, and then dribbled onto the corpse's head. Fortunately that incense was amongst Arendi's accoutrements as a cleric of the dead. The anointing with fire was the end of the ceremony: when the body was placed into the boat, it was to be set alight on a pyre of branches. Here, of course, the pyre would have to come from the eucalypts on the shore, and helpfully, the rite indicated the stronger the scent of the flames, the more it honoured the gods. Eucalyptus had a sweet, tangy smell as it burned, which was fortuitous. The rite between the anointing with the two substances was laid out in some detail, taking a good three minutes or so, and culminating in a great call at the end as the deceased's body began its journey downriver:

I call upon thee, Jendar Lakelock!
Heed me this hour!
Ye have passed beyond living.
Ye are quick no longer.
The light has left thy eyes.
The heat comes, and then ye shall be cold once and always.
Kelemvor will sight ye.
The river of your fathers is before thee.

That, Arendi read with some satisfaction, functioned both as the orientation of the spirit to the path of his fathers, as well as a final reminder to the soul that it had passed, so it could not mistakenly stumble into the hated state of undeath.

The cleric took a full half hour to study the rite once more, until he was certain he had memorised it. And then reverently closed the book.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None




Aidan had a distinct impression that this was entirely strange. Strange forest, strange gathering of hobgoblins, strange feeling in the woods, strange woman, strange hobby, strange conversation. "Arraah! Yes, model elf! The painting will look nicer than your face!" And strange bird.

Ignoring the bird, Aidan takes a second to consider. On the one hand, if the woman is this stubborn then she has every right to do as she pleases, and a warning from a drow is hardly trustworthy. Besides, he has a job to do. If he can track them for a little more he might be able to find their camp and that would ensure a safe journey for the group. But on the other hand, he could hardly leave a woman stranded in the woods, knowing that raiders are about. Darn woman. "If I stand as your model, will you promise to go back to town afterward? I do not think it wise that you remain here in the woods."

Edit: Grammar.

[Saintheart]

Aidan
Along the Dawn Way, Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Eleven bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"Yes, yes, I'll go home when we're done here," said the old woman impatiently, flapping her hands in his direction. "Of course I won't stay here, the light won't be any good if we keep waiting around. Now. If you could please disrobe and stand right over there, where that big grey rock is lying, we'll get started. One hand on the back of your head, that should help with the shadows and make the musculature more distinct, yes."

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None





At hearing this, the bird starts flapping wildly and flying in circles and cawing as if in riotous laughter. "Naked Elf! Naked Elf!" Aidan grabs a rock and tosses it at the bird, intentionally missing, "blasted bird." Libby, still in a laughing fit, settles on a branch nearby, cawing loudly. "Lady, that is hardly appropriate. What if you simply paint it without me in there? I'll wait here to the side until you are finished."

[Saintheart]

Aidan
Along the Dawn Way, Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Eleven bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"'Hardly appropriate?' The mortal form is one of the highest expressions and keenest studies of art! Without someone within the picture to give it scale, there is no sense of mortality in the work, it is all but a green sward! Would you have a sword with no pommel? No crossguard? Well, then, saer, I tell you this work is not complete without a model to function as the study! Now hurry up, we're losing light while we stand here talking about academic points!"

[Saintheart]

Alastor and Diana
The Home of Sertieren The Wise
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Afternoon, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The northernmost end of the village had a bluff overlooking the Talar River. At the top of the bluff was a well-appointed, clean and well-maintained noble house of some kind; it had the usual accumulation of faux minarets and gables marking it as the home of a wealthy person, but the architecture style was old - not as old as the dwarven constructions dotted around Drellin's Ferry, but not a contemporary structure by any means. And yet it showed no apparent signs of decay.

The garden around it, though, was something else: overgrown, weeds had conquered what had probably been the resistance of generations of gardeners. Mystra's Tear, a small, bright azure flower, glinted from every patch of green, and Love-Lies-Weeping had overtaken the white picket fence that had once protected the house's front boundary. Still, nothing opposed their trespass into the garden, and though weeds lined the sandstone path up to the front door, not one blade of grass hung over or lay on the yellow stones. The door, a well-oiled, single carved piece of eucalyptus, swung open on silent hinges as they approached, though no doorman came to meet them.

The foyer of the house was more varnished and polished than many they'd seen. Marble-tiled floor and a round skylight inlaid with clear (and therefore expensive) glass let light dance around the chamber. Doorways led into presumably other rooms, and through one of these doors the halfling came.

https://images2.imgbox.com/fd/27/hIv9xpOl_o.jpg

He was ageing, white hair framing his features, and a pair of spectacles perched on his nose. His clothes were well-made, though, and there was a certain incongruity to them. As if they didn't settle back to his body when he stopped moving as the lack of wind would ordinarily compel. Or perhaps it was some sheen on the material that came not from silk or any other rich material that would ordinarily produce it.

He clapped his hands together, taking in their group with a single, nearsighted peer. "So. You must be the folk that are being talked about. Well, then, I suppose you've not come here for a social call, heh, my door wouldn't have opened for you if you were. So let's get on with it. I am Sertieren. You, I presume, are looking for, heh, some rather more, heh, unusual wares."



Arendi
The Shrine of Lathander
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Later Afternoon, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The shrine stood at the east end of the village, the last light of day gleaming on its walls. Made of fieldstone and dark wood, the building itself was a regular, single-storey structure with a doorway into it. Its garden, though, was exceptional: paths of white river stones made graceful arcs across a carefully-kept lawn as green as washed emerald. They had to look twice at the plants growing at artfully-selected locations around the garden; they appeared shrunken trees, and only close inspection revealed them to be small bushes cut so to beautifully resemble conifers. In the centre of the garden stood a stone plinth with a large iron cylinder on it, somewhat incongruous with the surroundings. Lathander's symbol, a rising sun, was carved into the lintel above the wooden doorway. Arendi entered through that door to find a modest, even spartan, space which was clearly a temple, although far too small to act as a true church. Symbols of the rising sun were set into the walls and the windowsills.

https://images2.imgbox.com/e5/ac/NZ5g0zI4_o.jpg

There was a small, stocky man with dusky, leathery skin speaking to two others. Arkaiun, Arendi realised: the man was an Arkaiun, that ethnicity of men noted most for being enslaved by the Dambrathi to the east of here. But the man had a gentle, calm smile as he spoke to the two other men: younger than him, they had the look of students, with small packages in their hands.
Or acolytes: the Arkaiun was in plain, peasant robes, but one could not mistake the symbol around his neck - Lathander's symbol. This had to be Brother Kandil.
"I forgot - will you stay with Wellim until he falls asleep?" said Kandil to one of the acolytes. "It's five years tonight since Jacynda passed. He'll drink himself down if you don't."
"I won't be able to get over to the Stoneshaw house tonight if I do," said the acolyte.
Kandil nodded, holding his hands out for the acolyte's package. "Very well. I'll go to the Stoneshaws. Off you go - and start at the outlying homes, yes? I want you both doing your last rounds right in town. The Morninglord go with you."
The acolytes bowed briefly to him, and then excused themselves, glancing at the companions as they went.

Kandil turned to Arendi, but as he opened his mouth a small chime sounded -- from a water clock sitting on a sideboard nearby. He smiled apologetically. "Please -- come in. I'll just be a moment."
Arendi watched as Kandil hurried out into the garden, pulling a long wooden stick from inside his tunic -- and struck the iron cylinder hard four times in succession, the noise ringing out across the town. There, it seemed, was the source of the chimes the Circus had been hearing once per hour from dawn til dusk. The cleric turned back to Arendi, moving back into the temple, closing the door softly behind him. The first thing he did was peer at the scale-and-bones symbol that Arendi wore around his neck. "What can I do for you, neighbour? I hadn't heard a follower of Kelemvor was in town - have you some purpose here in Drellin's Ferry?"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi scratched his head awkwardly - Danuta had said performing the old rites for Jendar's would turn Kandil against him, after all, and talking with priests of other faiths was never that comfortable for the greywarden.

Of course, there was no need to tell him, was there?

"Ah, not much. You know the circus that came in last night? I'm travelling with them, though," he shrugged and continued, "I'm not exactly part of the show either. Anyways, Morlin is a fine blacksmith but he said to come here for scrolls. Do you have scrolls that help against being paralyzed or blinded?"

[Saintheart]

Arendi
The Shrine of Lathander
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Four bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"Oh, you're with that group - the ones that dealt with the hobgoblin raiders, yes?" Kandil didn't actually wait for a reply. "It's been quite the story - both your success against them and the ... performance ... that was given last night. I think the word that a cleric of the Lord of the Dead is travelling with them might only serve to increase the interest you raise through here. Of course, I have scrolls that will permit those prayers to be spoken. The cost will be the full normal price, though, I'm afraid."

They were getting finished with that transaction when the door of the shrine opened without a knock and a well-dressed man walked in like he owned the place. Or at least had a lease on it.

https://images2.imgbox.com/f8/a0/dQOlXQna_o.jpg

Balding, in his fifties, with a look as though he had misplaced a fairly significant taxation remit from some years earlier, the man's robes looked possibly more expensive than those Norro Wiston, the Speaker, had been wearing. He glanced at Arendi on his way to Kandil. "Good afternoon to you, brother Kandil," said the man with a singularly unpleasant grin.
"And to you, Iormel," replied Kandil. His smile was patient. "It's a little early for evening service."
"Oh, I came by to simply provide a donation." Long, elegant fingers dived into a hidden purse in the man's robes and withdrew several well-polished gold pieces, which clinked and clanked against each other as they dropped into the nearest collection plate.
"It's most appreciated," said Kandil.
"Well, one does what one can. Really it should go to Jendar Lakelock's widow, Danuta. Terrible business. Three sons."
"Quite. Although it seems we've the saer," said Kandil, indicating Arendi, "partially to thank for at least bringing his body back where it can be buried in home soil."
"Really?" Iormel's eyes, pale blue and dancing with interest, now turned to Arendi. "You must be the cleric of the Dead Lord I've heard about. One of the guardsmen was saying you were with Danuta Lakelock when her husband's body was brought back to town. Is that so?"

[danielxcutter]

Iormel, eh? Arendi thought. I've heard that name a few times around here.

He knew he really shouldn't jump to conclusions, but his first impression wasn't a strong argument against what he'd heard.

"That would be me, yes." the greywarden said coolly. "Although that was more a coincidence than anything. We'd recovered her husband's purse, and the others are busy today so I went to find her as a representative."

He glanced down at Reason and added, "Wish we'd brought him back ourselves, but we were too busy getting the dodge out of there before another band came and stomped on our faces. *tsk* Again."

Remembering something, Arendi turned to Iormel and asked, "I believe you're a merchant as well? Any idea why he was out there?"

[A.A.King]

"If the streets are talking it's probably us, yes. You know what they say when this go crazy the circus must have arrived." Alastor said in the halfling tongue while taking off his hat in a greeting

"You are right, we are looking for specialty items." he continued in common while putting his hat back on.

"We have been contracted to deal with the problem that is blocking trade to this lovely town. Some of my troupe have bought some lovely gear from Morlin's shop but I myself have no real use for pointy things. I was hoping you might have something that would aid me in communication with these bandits and that would allow me to speak either the Goblin or the Dragon's tongue. When they observed my compatriot here they started addressing her in the dragon's tongue, which is the only reason why I'd think that one might work too, though the goblin's own language would be preferred.

I was also wondering if you happened to sell a charm that would allow me to more swiftly cast one of my summoning spells, failing that I was hoping you'd have something that I could give my pet bear to wear to enhance his prowess further.

These may be unusual requests, but given the severity of the situation we'd like to prepared as much as possible. The tour can't go on if these roads remain blocked after all."

[Saintheart]

Arendi
The Shrine of Lathander
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Four bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Iormel smacked his lips. "Desperation, I'd imagine. Not to speak ill of the dead, particularly in present company, but Jendar ran up rather the unfortunate line of credit in the past couple of months. He had something of a surge in business and had problems getting enough money through to take advantage of it. When we started getting a little hobgoblin trouble, well, those of us who were a little more prudent and raised our prices in answer are weathering the drawback in trade, but Jendar went well into the red. Took a few loans out."

The merchant raised his hands palm up. "Anyway, word came that there was a big shipment of adamantine in Sheirtalar - its owner went bust, couldn't pay the portmaster's fee let alone the stevedores' lien, so it was just sitting there on the docks waiting for someone to claim it. Like a number of other prominent merchants around here, I was offered a chance to join a consortium to buy out the shipment and bring it to Rethmar to sell. Now, maybe the profit would have been handsome, but who needs a speculative commodities trade like that? So I passed. Poor old Jendar, though ... well, as I said, desperate men do desperate things."


Alastor and Diana
The Home of Sertieren The Wise
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Afternoon, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"And I was wondering if you had a giant wasp amber necklace," Diana put in.

"Heh, would go well with your scales' colour, heh," replied Sertieren. His bushy, white eyebrows rose and fell. "Lucky day for you both. Unlike that great puffball Morlin, heh, I keep a good back supply, heh, of oddities and such. Heh. Don't know why you would want to talk to hobgoblins, heh, raiders or not, heh. Only need to know two phrases in hobgoblin, heh, 'You are going to die' and 'Run or die'. Learn that plenty from being around hobgoblins, heh. Hm. Hobgoblins talking in the Dragon tongue strikes me as, heh, even less reason to talk to them. Either way, I can help you with that. Heh. Of course - only if you've the gold for it, heh, not much call for that sort of thing around here."

The halfling suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh! And since you're here ..." Sertieren turned to a pink-white, translucent vase standing on a mantelpiece by the nearest wall.

Alastor was fairly certain the vase hadn't been there a moment earlier.

Sertieren shuffled over to it, picked up the vase, and gently shook out a handful of small, brown wafers no larger than a coin. "Yes, heh, there's these. Not much call for them around here, hm, adventurers without spellcasting companions are few and far between. But these will do. Eat one of these wafers, and the next item you grasp in your hands will have its enchanted properties revealed to you. They're a hundred gold each. Another ten silver if you want some sugar to make them go down a little easier. Heh."

The wafers cast identify on the next single object the consumer grasps in his hands.

[Dimers]

"A fine price, saer, and I thank you for offering. I never would have thought to ask for such a thing." Diana peered at the wafers with interest, for the moment disregarding their container. "You've heard aright, our companions mostly have mastery of the body, not of mana. Which makes for a spectacular show -- you should come watch tonight."

[danielxcutter]

Arendi replied, "Hm, I see. I've heard a bit about the adamantine, yes."

If Iormel was actively involved in Jendar's death, he obviously wasn't tipping his hand. And of course, it was certainly possible that the merchant was simply an unpleasant person in general rather than being directly responsible.

He dropped the scrolls into his backpack, then said "Ah yes, that reminds me. The band of hobgoblins we ran into seemed to be followers of Tiamat - do either of you know anything about that? You know," he glanced at the merchant, "the five-headed dragon goddess that makes the greediest merchant look like a humble friar."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya returned to the troupe's tent. She seemed quite content, even happy? Gone was the seeing-eye person, as was the grime and weariness of the road. A hot bath and a glass of wine to ease the pains of travel and performance.

There was no need for her to go back to the shops. There was little for her immediate use to be found. Instead, she kept watch over the animals and tent to keep those that might get too curious from snooping about and causing chaos or getting injured.

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Saintheart]

Arendi
The Shrine of Lathander
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Four bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic


Iormel and Kandil's faces held only looks of incomprehension.

"Tiamat? Really?" Kandil frowned. "That's very unusual for hobgoblins. Not that I know much about the gods of the barbarics," he added with a shrug.
"I don't know what difference it makes which god they bow to," said Iormel with a sniff. "They're just hobgoblins. Raiding rabble. Unfortunate for Jendar, of course, but this whole thing strikes me as terribly overblown. A few pig-snouted humanoids burn a barn or two and the whole west country empties, everyone hunkering in town like it's the end of the world. "
"There have been farms burned, Iormel," said Kandil. "My acolytes have heard some awful accounts from the refugees."
Iormel waved the comment away. "A good, hard surge to clean up the Dawn Way and we'd be finished with this hobgoblin 'threat' in no time. Was it really that hard to deal with a pack of hobgoblins, saer?" He turned back to Arendi.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None





From the branch where the bird was perched a constant stream of cawing in laughter and an insult or two were aimed at Aidan. Meanwhile, the woman was obviously not perturbed by the news of hobgoblins, the appearance of a dark elf while the sun was up, or a talking bird that was swinging around slurs at the mention of the dark elf disrobing. "Very well. After that, you must return with me to town, however." He stood at the indicated spot, awkwardly following the instructions from the woman as to how to stand and whatnot. He did, however, keep his clothes on, notwithstanding the goading from the bird.

[Saintheart]

Aidan
Along the Dawn Way, Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Three bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Aidan was watching the subtle shift of the greenery in the dell below, hip thrown out at a jaunty angle. Cicadas tss, tss, tssed in the heat. There was a smell of water from somewhere below and a strong hint of decaying things. It had been some time since the woman had asked him to shift position. Libby had also finally gone quiet, apparently deciding she wasn't going to get any further joy out of remarks ("Arrk! Just as well you didn't get your gear off, no living thing could have stood the shock! Squawk').

It was the play of the shadows that made him realise something had changed. When he had first assumed the position, his shadow had been visible before him, facing west. Now the shadow was gone. Or facing another direction.

Aidan turned with a snap of movement, gracefully, silently. And had reason to curse. He had thought himself standing here for a few minutes, but the position of the sun was clear: it was more in the way of midafternoon. And for that reason, a good portion of the day was now wasted. With about five hours left until sunset, with travelling time he wouldn't be able to go much further into the woods in daylight, and perhaps it would be foolish to try alone.

He suddenly realised that he was, in fact, alone.

Well, almost. The easel and stool were still standing where they had been when he had turned to pose, but the old woman, her paintbrushes, and her colours were nowhere to be seen. And not a track on the ground to indicate her direction. The easel still held the canvas she had been working on ... and Libby, perched on top, eyes closed, clearly fast asleep. When he strode towards the easel, the bird snapped awake. "What? No, sergeant, I swear this gem was in -- (Awwk!) Hey! Where'd she go! One second I was flapping down to her finger, and next--AWWK!" The bird lit for the nearest branch as Aidan closed to strike range. The drow looked over at the easel.

It was nothing but random paint marks. A multicoloured mess with not even a suggestion of reality, colours simply sploshed together in something that infants might have created at play.

A gleam of silver caught Aidan's eye. Something had been left on the stool, perfectly centred. It was a gleaming ring, and Aidan's keen eyes picked out the details easily: the image of a drow was finely inscribed along its circumference.

[ShedShadow]

https://i.ibb.co/hXHVPTM/Aidan-blackbow.png


Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2362692)
Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30
AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5
Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3)
Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2)
Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2)
Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
Condition None
None





"Arraah! Finally a lady wants you to disrobe and then she stood you up!" "Shush." Aidan said it quietly, the bird knowing, from traveling with him, that meant business. Aidan looked at the painting, and again to the ring. He looked up at the sun with one eye closed. He then looked at the woods around him, assuring himself they were indeed completely alone. And then he swore.

He swore from the desert sand to the willow roots and from the hawk's feathers to the udders of the behir. Libby joined in the racket, cawing on about ursine droppings in a winter boot and skimmed milk for breakfast (Aidan wasn't sure what to think of that one). He swore one last time, starting to say something about a spider goddess' behind, but thought better of it, since mentioning the Dark Mother always makes a situation worse. Swallowing the curse, he pulled out a knife, cut the painting from its wooden frame so he wouldn't have to carry it and wound it around a javelin, tied together with a piece of string so it wouldn't unroll, then put the javelin in his quiver. He then took out a piece of cloth and, careful to not touch it with his skin, picked up the ring to examine it further. "Pretty ring. If you put it on at least your finger will be pretty! Arraah!" Ignoring the bird, Aidan pocketed the ring in the piece of cloth, hoping one of the clerics might figure out what it was. He then started to hike back to town at increased speed, though keeping his eyes peeled for hobgoblins. "The rest is never going to believe this."

[A.A.King]

"It's not so much that I want to talk to them so mach as it is that I want to be able to hear what they say when they talk to each other. For now I just have enough gold for the chronocharm. Morlin however wrote us some IOUs for the hobgoblin gear we sold him. Would those be acceptable currency here? I'll also take one of those waivers and I'll tell the rest of my companions about them in case they'd like to buy some too."

[danielxcutter]

Arendi raised an eyebrow. "I'm... flattered, but it actually was 'that hard' - and you know what happened to that poor man. They came close to taking half our group out and outnumbered us two to one..."

The greywarden had been walking towards the exit while saying that, and with those words he whipped around. Pulling Reason out from its sheath, he spun the blade from hand to hand in a whirlwind of steel before sheathing it and turning again on his heel in one fluid action.

He looked over his shoulder and added, "And believe me, we're not that bad."

If necessary, please treat this as an untrained Perform (weapon drill) check (Complete Warrior p 121); if taking 10 that's half my BAB for +2 and a +1 from Charisma, so that'd be a 13. Not that I imagine it'd matter that much in terms of mechanics anyways.

[Saintheart]

Alastor and Diana
The Home of Sertieren The Wise
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Afternoon, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"Heh, oh, certainly, hm, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to stick an IOU under old windbag's nose, yes," said Sertieren. The halfling was almost hopping from foot to foot. "And do come back tomorrow, heh, no problem at all!"



Arendi
The Shrine of Lathander
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Four bells, the Seventh of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Out of the corner of his eye Arendi was pretty sure that both Iormel and Kandil took reflexive steps back as he whirled Reason in a flourish and then sheathed it with a soft clack.

He was even surer that as he closed the door of the shrine behind him that one of them said "Well, of all the nerve--!" to the other.


...

Everyone except Arendi
The Green,
Drellin's Ferry, Cannath Vale
Eight bells, the Seventh of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Night came round again, and the crowd was bigger this time. The Green Apple had fully emptied, and the Old Bridge Inn staff were standing outside the door watching across the village green as the townsfolk started to line up. Drathgar's last ferry across the river that night was fully loaded with women carrying small children in the direction of the circus tent.

Alastor was truly in his groove now. The halfling appeared from nowhere on the rim of the tent above the doorway in, announcing a fine welcome to everyone who had come that night and drawing cheers of appreciation. He went to work with all the same deft handling of the crowd as he'd done the previous night, if anything scaling even more dizzying heights of oratory, the crowd oohing and aahing as though they were breathing like one, great, entranced beast. Libby appeared and together Alastor and the bird had the audience in tears of laughter.
Once more he extolled Vokon and Aerilaya's virtues. This time he hinted at something more to come. Finally, after a good fifteen minutes of this, the halfing simply jumped down onto Dobble's back, and rode serenely into the darkness of the tent. The audience rumbled its approval and started inside.

A little more light in the darkness of the tent this time, a circle of light in the centre, around the tentpole, from no immediately discernible source. Then Aerilaya appeared.
And danced.
She whirled, leapt, and tumbled in and out of the light. Sometimes her blade appeared in her hand, only to vanish again as she left the light and returned. After a few moments of the floor routine (also accompanied by drums and a violin with no immediate source apparent), she vaulted to grasp the central tentpole, and began to dance around that as well. Which was the same time she used the trick fishing line that Alastor had sourced, and began to remove her hands from the pole, twisting and arcing in and out from its supports, holding herself by her legs and even by one leg - as though gravity had no hold over her at all. The crowd gasped at the performance. And, with one last, great, spinning twist around the centre of the structure, she spun away into the darkness of the tent's upper air, vanishing from sight.

"MORTALS!"
Every member of the audience jumped. The voice came from the darkness at ground level, towards the back of the tent.

Vokon loomed once more out of the darkness.
He wasn't wearing tribal markings this time.
He had been costumed up and painted to look like a miniature fire giant, eyelids and eyesockets filled with glittering red paint such that his pupils seemed afire, and his body gleaming with yellow, shining dust. He came striding out, arms above his head, bearing a massive cauldron with a massive lid on it. Women and small children gave cries of temporary horror. Vokon placed the cauldron down before him. Red light, a sign of fire, gleamed from the edge of the lid. He grasped the lid, threw it clear into the darkness, revealing red coals and flames filling the cauldron entirely.

Vokon raised a pillar-sized finger to the audience. "WATCH MY CAULDRON WELL, MORTALS!"
And then turned, walking back into the darkness.

The audience watched.
The cauldron did nothing. For several seconds. Merely smoked. And flickered with light.
And then blew apart.

In a small radius, of course; it in fact collapsed on the hidden catches within it. Still, red coals tumbled from the cauldron, and the fire blazed up, smoke billowing, drawing cries of shock from the audience.
Diana stood up from the centre of the flames, unfolding herself from where she had been inside the coal-filled cauldron, revealing the gleaming brass scales of her true form, stretching open her dragon wings to the sky, fire flickering from her form, coals raining off her body. For a second it looked as though the audience would actually start to flee the tent - but then her identity became clear, and the awe of a dragonborn revealed washed over the crowd, and the cries of apprehension turned to cheers and laughter.
"My greetings to you, and the blessings of Bahamut upon you, citizens of Drellin's Ferry!" she called to the audience, and the applause roared higher.

Alastor brought the show to a close, promising that should the Circus be there another night, they would see "darkness and light! Shadow and flame! Grace and power--"
"(Squawk)Beans and toast!(Awwk)"
"--and a display you will remember for years to come, my friends!"


Did some rolling.
Alastor pulled a natural 20, for a result of 36.
Aerilaya pulled a 12, for a result of 22.
Vokon pulled a natural 10, so a 12.
Diana had her result at 12 IIRC. Wasn't burned thanks to DR 5 fire resistance.

So the money that comes out of that:
Alastor: [roll0] gold
Aerilaya: [roll1] gold
Vokon: [roll2] gold
Diana: [roll3] gold.



Arendi
By the River Talar,
Drellin's Ferry, Cannath Vale
Eight bells, the Seventh of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The last light of the day had turned the river blood-red like the sky above it, and the eucalypts were black sentinels. There was muted noise coming from across the river on the Green, but the falloff was enough that Arendi could hear the river waters burbling against rocks and small obstacles in the stream.

The boat had been brought up. A wrapped form lay within it. Danuta and her three sons stood by the boat, and they turned to Arendi as he walked past Jendar's cottage and down to the riverside.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi looked back at where his companions were likely putting on the show. Pity. He'd actually considered joining this time.

Ah well. Duty waited for no being.

Pulling down the grey hood of his clerical vestments, he turned to Danata and said, "I've... actually managed to find the old rites. They're a bit... unorthodox for some people, but from what I see any problem there might have been came from the practitioners and not from the rites themselves. My Lord's blessing has been on me, I even have the necessary requirements. Now, here is what we must do..."

Soon, the incense-tainted water was ready. He dribbled it onto the merchant's head - with just a twinge of guilt for initially leaving his body untended - and muttered the prayers of his Lord and of the people of this land.

He stepped back and let the bereaved say their last words. Then, he helped the sons to place the body atop the pyre of eucalyptus that had been assembled inside the boat to be set afloat.

The greywarden watched as they lit the pyre with a makeshift torch of fragrant branches, then struck the ground with his ashen staff with a loud thump, surprising the family somewhat. Taking a deep breath in, he called out the words that his god had guided him to, the words that those who lived here in the olden days had used and finally saw use again many years later.

"I call upon thee, Jendar Lakelock! Heed me this hour! Ye have passed beyond living, ye are quick no longer. The light has left thy eyes! The heat comes, and then ye shall be cold once and always. Kelemvor will sight ye!"

He struck the ground again, before saying the last sentence. "...The river of your fathers is before thee." He bowed his head towards the departing merchant, a final gesture of respect.

And it could have been a trick of the light - or was it the dark? - but for a moment, he could have sworn that he saw two figures standing on the boat.

One, a figure robed in dark clothes and wearing a silver death mask, a hand-and-a-half blade hanging by his side. A figure weary, yet still not having lost all its compassion, it made just the slightest of nods to the priest.

The other, one who seemed reluctant, one who'd left much behind - but knew that his time had come. It had been facing the others, but it turned to the first figure.

And then they were gone.

[Aracor]

The next morning, Vokon says: If we're going to be leaving the pack animals here and actually moving as a warband, we should probably take the paths rather than the Dawn Way. Even Alastor would probably agree that moving fast is going to be best - after all, we solve the hobgoblin problem, and we can get back to our show, right?

[Saintheart]

The Green,
Drellin's Ferry, Cannath Vale
Seven bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"(Awwk) I'd like it acknowledged that I (whistle) qualify as a pack animal, given the way I'm carrying you all at our shows (Squawk!)"

[danielxcutter]

"Well in combat the only thing you bring is a deep-fried parrot dinner for our enemies." Arendi said, rolling his eyes. "But yes, we should probably leave most of them behind, as well as the circus tent. Dobble and Pogo should come, though."

[A.A.King]

"Personally I'm not a big fan of leaving Uno, Deux and the rest of the caravan behind but they would seriously limit our mobility which we can't do on this mission." He then heard Libby chime in "No, no, no. You're not getting out of this that easily. You're coming with us Libby! I need you to keep an eye out on the rest of the troupe, can't do that all by myself."

[ShedShadow]

"If he's not too busy cussing us out and laughing.."

[danielxcutter]

The greywarden chuckled. "You don't get to criticize someone for cussing, Aiden. Anyways, the forest trails would probably have less raiding parties I suppose, but there'd be less room to move around and there's a lot of us."

[A.A.King]

"Alright everyone, tomorrow we'll have to be ready for potential hobgoblin ambushes so I want everyone to get some sleep. I don't want us to get surrounded again just because of a lack of sleep!"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi yawned. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Good night guys."

[Dimers]

"Good night and good morrow." Diana bows slightly before Arendi heads away. She seems restless, herself, as she often does after a big show. Performing doesn't come easy to her yet.

[Aracor]

You're telling me that not only are we off to earn income in a way that DOESN'T involve me being oiled up, and I even get to sleep in? Wow, I didn't realize it was my name day. Good night, everyone!

[Saintheart]

A Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Sometime around four bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Jzp5H4mQVE)

Complication Dice: 3 of 6

They had set off at noon. Across the river Talar, and then north, following a dusty road not dissimilar from the one they'd entered town upon. But no more than a mile outside town, the dusty road all but disappeared, and the Circus, minus most of its pack animals, entered into the southernmost edge of Shaareach Forest.

The woodcutters' trail could hardly be called that. Whether a joke, a euphemism, or a product of wildlife constantly fighting back against the incursion of men, the trail amounted to a narrow dirt path on the floor of the forest, easily-lost ... unless you happened to have a drow scouting ahead and subtly marking out directions to those following in his wake. The wisdom of not bringing the bigger animals on the trail was immediately apparent.

Aidan had mentioned the weird feeling that had dropped over him as he'd first entered the Forest via the Dawn Way, and he wasn't surprised to have that feeling return. Indeed all of the others had the same sense that there was something at work within the Forest. Even more disturbing was that they were feeling it in different ways. Alastor had a mild surge of stage fright that he couldn't place. Vokon could not shake the feeling that the ground in front and behind of them was riddled with swampy quicksand, ready to drop them into darknesses unseen. Diana had the completely unfounded impression that something was moving below the scales of her dragonborn skin. Aerilaya was positive she heard something chuckle ... the same chuckle she'd heard in her head during the fight with the hobgoblins. And Arendi, the cleric of Kelemvor, could not shake the feeling that there were graves all around them, and that said graves were unquiet.

Even the Forest appeared to have been poorly named now they were in the literal thick of it. This was quite clearly a jungle, or at best some of the wildest rainforest that any of them had ever seen. The wild cacophony of life, birds, shrieking monkeys, creeling frogs, and a hundred other creatures, was all around them. The noises resounded through air as thick, moist, and hot as steaming broth. Diana's invocation kept any of them from exuding a single drop of sweat, of course, but the sensation was still true. There had to be a hundred different species of plants out here, in a hundred more colours, and even within a species there was variation. Mushrooms towered; Diana caught sight of a miniature oak, standing in a single ray of light from above. The closed-canopy of the jungle, hundreds of feet above, turned the ground below into a perpetual twilight otherwise, and the earth under their feet was a damp, rich black reeking of compost that only centuries of deadfall and mulch could produce. And then there were the bugs. Nothing lethal, nothing poisonous, but they mercilessly harried anyone without the scales of a dragon or dark, cold skin from the Underdark which seemed to puzzle insectile predators of that size.

Indeed the perpetual twilight, Aidan was surprised to realise, wasn't that much different from some of the more lighted sections of the Underdark. It was hot, yes, but he was not inconvenienced by that; and the dazzling sunlight was shielded by the efficient tent of the forest canopy. He stole from treetrunk to treetrunk, plying the shadows, casting the odd pebble in one direction or another, stopping now and then to scratch the symbol of an arrow onto the trunk of a tree, in the path he judged his companions would be coming down. The noise of the jungle most efficiently covered his movements. After a while all the bird calls and grunts became a sort of background noise.

So when he heard the undead, it stood out from the surrounding sounds clearly.

Aidan had reached the bole of a mangrove that was titanic in size and dimension, a good twenty foot diameter at the trunk. The undead was standing in the middle of where he perceived the path was taking the party. It evidently had not seen or heard him. It did not appear to be waiting for anyone; quite the contrary, it seemed to be uncertain of a direction, taking a slow step in one direction, then two steps in another, and then back again.

It appeared to be a badly decayed corpse, still standing. Large clumps of wet leaves stuck to it and tendrils of green undergrowth tangled among the locks of its remaining wisps of hair. The stink of it was enough to detect from forty feet away, as this one was.

But it was the undead's sounds that had alerted Aidan, and which now focused his interest. Aidan could not remember any skeleton or simple zombie which had vocalised clear words, and certainly not words in Common. That said, the undead's words did not have much variety to them. It kept repeating two words over and over: "Jarrett Nurth. Jarrett Nurth. Jarrett Nurth."

Aidan hadn't exactly been all over the world, but he had enough familiarity with Common and its little dialects and argots in this part of said world to know the decaying corpse was repeating a name. Over and over. But he had never heard of any undead creature that behaved like this, or at least no zombie or skeletal guardian that did this.

[Saintheart]

A Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Sometime around four bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 3 of 6

Signalled by Aidan that there was trouble ahead, the Circus readied weapons, cautiously shifting into a defensive formation as they padded up the trail. Being uncertain of the creature's precise location, it took them a few minutes, heat building around them, birds singing in the trees like a choir of dirges, bugs stinging at their faces. Only one creature - but of what manner? What kind? And why there? Aidan had already signalled that he would keep moving, and by the fact there was no agonised noise of pain, he'd apparently succeeded in fading away into the jungle shadows again.

They heard it before they saw it. The undead's voice was strangely deep and rumbling despite the deterioration of its throat. The same words, over and over every few seconds: "Jarrett Nurth. Jarrett Nurth. Jarrett Nurth."

Moving even more cautiously, they edged up past two towering tree trunks, and finally could see it. It was still stepping uncertainly in much the same spot as it had been, and at least at this moment didn't seem to have noticed the party, its head turned away. Green undergrowth tangled in its locks, bits of green ferns in its--

It was the deepness of the voice that finally triggered the memories of the dragonborn and the death cleric. This undead creature was a Bracken Corpse, the reanimated remains of a murder victim hidden or dumped in the wilderness by their killer. It was a comparatively rare state of undeath that sometimes befell the less cruel of Loviatar's followers when killed, by whim of the goddess. It could also take place when a death in great anguish occurred in a strong field of arcane energy. It was most like a skeleton or zombie, with the main difference that there remained enough of a spark of intellect for the Bracken Corpse to keep repeating the name of its murderer.

A Bracken Corpse could be asked questions and would answer with basic, monosyllabic responses about its killer and its death. This would not, however, prevent the Bracken Corpse from attacking an enemy that most resembled its killer - not that a strong resemblance was required.

Bracken Corpses had no knowledge outside the circumstances of their death and their killer’s appearance at that time. Questions about these subjects wouldn't result in any response other than ‘Irrelevant.’. A Bracken Corpse had an aura of uneasiness they projected as well, and could also inflict Slimy Doom disease by its touch, albeit it was generally only creatures of poor constitution that tended to fall victim to that disease.

--the creature was slowly turning in their direction. The Circus had to decide quickly what it was going to do.

[Dimers]

Diana stepped forward to where the creature would see her if it turned around, making a quick "stay back" motion to the party with one hand. In a clear voice, she called out, "Who is Jarrett Nurth? Where is Jarrett Nurth?"

Readying an action to blast if the critter takes any action more aggressive than turning around and answering.

[Saintheart]

A Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Sometime around four bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 3 of 6

The Bracken Corpse turned towards Diana as if it had been yanked around. Rotting eyes twisted horribly in their sockets and fixed on the dragonborn. It was in a position such that it could only see her, and not her companions. It tilted its head at her questions. There was a momentary pause in the stream of repeated words.

Then the deep voice spoke again. Two phrases, a few seconds apart, in clear, discernible Common. A blackened tooth tumbled from the creature's lips as they parted and closed.

"Storekeeper. Not here."

The undead took a couple of steps toward Diana.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi took his hand off Reason and approached as well. "Who were you? What happened?"

[Saintheart]

A Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Sometime around four bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic


Complication Dice: 3 of 6

The Bracken Corpse took a couple of steps back. Perhaps it was related to the holy symbol hanging from Arendi's neck; perhaps it was mere random movement.

"Ir-rel-evant. In woods. Night of Selune Weeping. Joined with Jarrett Nurth in clearing. Afterward. Throat cut. Dagger. While lay with sweat going cold on skin."

A Night of Selune Weeping was an archaic way of speaking of a full moon; typically, when the moon of Selune was full, the small celestial bodies trailing it, called the Tears of Selune, would glow and twinkle as if afire.

[danielxcutter]

"Do you remember... why? the greywarden asked softly.

[Saintheart]

A Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Sometime around four bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic


Complication Dice: 3 of 6

"Irrelevant," the creature replied. It now took a few steps towards Arendi...

[danielxcutter]

Arendi sighed. "I see. I'm sorry - "

The greywarden drew Reason with a flick of his wrist.

"- but I do promise that whoever killed you gets what they deserve."

[Saintheart]

A Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Sometime around four bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 3 of 6

The Bracken Corpse's minimal intelligence seemed to flicker at the combination of Arendi's words and the drawing of his weapon. The creature's misshapen, rotting face twisted in sudden ferocity, and with a wordless shriek like some anguished animal, it came sprinting at them. Decaying hands with sharpened bone fingers rose towards them--

A roar of flame enveloped it from Diana, clean heat crashing through the cloying humidity. The corpse burned, sending a gods-awful smell through the clearing. Its shriek raised in pitch, up through the register to a nails-down-chalkboard height, as it staggered--

Reason punched into its chest like a scalpel, and Arendi ripped the blade upward, twisting it in precisely the way they had taught him to take decaying undead on the training grounds. Not only did the blade come out at the creature's neck, but so did the corpse's head from its shoulders, and the decapitated form collapsed, the foul power fuelling its existence dissipating in an instant.

200 XP each to you guys.

I did a couple of rolls. :)

[danielxcutter]

Arendi brushed the remains off of Reason on one of the large leaves growing on the sides of a trail and sheathed the blade, shaking his head. "May Kelemvor send you to your rightful place."

[Deadguy]

https://i.imgur.com/XwLrEgu.png
Aerilaya Ralothyra
Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1951190)

Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2)
Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya stifled a gag at the appearance of the rotting body. It wasn't that the sight turned her stomach, but the smell! She had picked up on the smell nearly as soon as the draw had sent the signal. She kept her distance and reached to her back, drawing a bit of tobacco to hold to her nose in an attempt to override the stench until they were clear.

"An interesting distraction, but a distraction none the less. We weren't paid to solve some murder mystery..." Aerilaya seemed in a foul mood. Between the heat and the bugs, this was not fun. She'd much rather be back at the inn, soaking in a bath with a glass of wine.

Maybe the showman's life isn't so bad...

Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Aracor]

Well, that was fun. It's probably worth noting and possibly mentioning when we get back to town, but for now, it's probably more important to continue on. We still need to find our guide, and hopefully the keep.

[danielxcutter]

"...Just let me see if this person had anything left to bring back." said the greywarden. "It shouldn’t take too long."

[Saintheart]

A Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Sometime around four bells, the Eighth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 3 of 6

The remains of the corpse didn't produce much that was terribly identifiable. Arendi was about as thorough as most mortal men could be in the circumstances. Aside from the formal work and education at the monastery, the teachings had also included a reasonable degree of desensitisation to the revulsive reflex that normally accompanied dealing with mortal remains; it was, after all, an occupational hazard for clerics of a death god. The very rough, experiental knowledge he'd garnered over the years led him to conclude (without much accuracy) that the body could have been out in the jungle for several months; insects and predators (as was somewhat common) had been restrained from eating anything by virtue of the strangeness that typically accompanied an undead form, but heat, and more importantly, moisture, ravaged a corpse harder in this sort of environment. So there didn't seem to be any distinctive items of clothing.

There was, however, a hint of what might have been a tattoo on what remained of the left forearm: a blue raptor of some kind. And on the same limb, on the upper arm, a bronze armband (cheap, likely worthless) which had the image of a cobra inscribed into it. The armband was easily recoverable.

There did not seem to be much else that could be done here, and certainly nothing else to be recovered from the corpse.


----

A Clearing Along the Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Foret, Cannath Vale
Close to sunset, the Eighth of Mirtual
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 4 of 6

The day was well and truly going down. Four hours they'd been at it since dealing with the Bracken Corpse. The bird calls were fading and the calls of frogs and crickets rose in volume. Underneath the canopy, the light was getting close to the point where likely darkvision would begin to shift into effect. The Circus certainly would have tough going if it wanted to even try following a trail in this menagerie in the dark. That said, the trail was now roughly keeping within earshot of a slow, lazy stream which occasionally glimmered when they saw it off to the north of the path. That most likely would be the eastern arm of the somewhat-ineptly named 'Swift Creek.'

About a hundred feet ahead, the canopy opened a little, and there lay a small cabin in a deep jungle clearing. A ramshackle front porch was littered with fishing baskets and skinning frames. The cabin overlooked a dark bayou or lake, with old gray cedar-trees draped in moss rising out of the water. An old skiff was tied up on the shore nearby, and a little smoke curled from the fieldstone chimney.

Aidan stepped out from the shadows of the nearest tree. He briefly explained that he'd done a quick circuit of the place and gone in closer while waiting for the Circus to catch up. The first thing was that the distance they'd travelled seemed to roughly fit the idea that this was Jorr Natherson's home. Secondly, the cabin itself was on clear ground, a good fifty feet out from the nearest bushes, although shadows of great white eucalpytus over the clearing meant there was still a decent amount of sunlight during the day that could reach it. Aidan also indicated for the Circus to look a little closer at the cabin porch: three big hunting hounds -- easily the size of riding dogs -- lay under the shelter of the porch, clearly asleep, two of them comically lying with their feet sticking up in the air in that way dogs sometimes did. One of them yawned, rolled over, and then went back to sleep. Hard to say whether their sleep made them unaware of the Circus, but Aidan had the feeling they'd not be seen or heard even if they trod right up the wooden step onto the porch and knocked on the door.

Such breeze as there was shifted, and the Circus heard it: faintly, from within the cabin, a human male's voice, singing tunelessly.

Tunelessly meaning ear-bleedingly off-key. Vokon had heard more melody out of shadowcats in heat.

[danielxcutter]

Under his helm, Arendi grimaced. "What the Baator is that? It makes allip gibberish sound like a lullaby."

[Dimers]

"Hey, it doesn't sound as bad as the bracken corpse's screech," Diana opined. "Before we go in ... who's doing the talking?" She glanced down at Alastor, wondering whether the flamboyant and slightly deluded ringleader would present himself as ideal for the task.

Switching to social-skills aura.

[danielxcutter]

The greywarden shuddered. "Ever heard allip gibberish?"

[A.A.King]

"I should probably do the talking. The guy owns dogs, we'll have thins in common" Alastor said as he petted Pogo "Though lets hope he doesn't want to join our ranks, even I wouldn't be able to sell that as a good performance to our audiances..."

[Aracor]

I don't know, there is a certain...rhythm to it, Vokon said while grimacing.

But yes, let's let Alastor speak for us initially. Hopefully this is the man we seek.

[A.A.King]

Alastor approached the house, walking next to Pogo rather than riding him so that he could send him away in case the other dogs got territorial.

Not sure how the word this in a story format but if Alastor gets the feeling that the dogs might get dangerous as he approaches them he'll spend a minute using his Wild Empathy ability to hopefully calm them down so that he can approach the door.

If he succesfully keeps them calm (or if they don't need to be kept calm) and he reaches the house he'll speak up in his usual loud voice "Greetings, would this be the home of a mister Jorr Natherson?"

[Saintheart]

A Clearing Along the Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Foret, Cannath Vale
Close to sunset, the Eighth of Mirtual
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 4 of 6

The dogs under the porch came scrambling out as Alastor and Pogo approached across the soft green grass of the clearing. Loud snarls and barking filled the air and Pogo's hackles went up instantly. But the hunting dogs had barely gotten more than ten feet away from the porch when a shuttered window on the cabin's front was pushed opened by a thick, heavy hand. The air split with a sudden, high whistle, and then the shutter fell closed again. The dogs immediately dipped their heads, trotting back to the porch, where they sat obediently on the short grass.

The cabin door groaned open. The man who took a step out onto the porch was a lean woodsman of indeterminate age, somewhere between sixty and six hundred or so. He had a seamed, leathery look to his face and arms, and a big curved knife sitting in a sheath strapped to one thigh. The thick, heavy hands held a yew longbow, the shaft nocked to its string pointing to the ground.

http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc4/Borf_the_Dwarf/Clint%20Eastwood_zpstvgacj2n.jpg

"The **** is this?" the man said. His voice rattled with age. "Get off my lawn."

[danielxcutter]

"Uhhh..." Arendi looked at the ringmaster. "So that's the guy we're looking for, right?"

[Saintheart]

A Clearing Along the Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Foret, Cannath Vale
Close to sunset, the Eighth of Mirtual
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 4 of 6

"You're going to be looking for your ****ing eye in a minute, sonny," growled the man on the porch at Arendi's words. "You and whoever sent ya out here. ****ing wanderwoods cast so much shade you can't get a good sward going without half a ton of cow**** all on it, so let me repeat, get off my lawn."

[A.A.King]

"Nobody sent us out here, but we were told you were the only one who could help us. Speaker Winston hired us to deal with the goblin problem and you are apparently the only person who knows how to get to where they are hiding" Alastor said while he looked for the proper pathway to this man's house so he could get of his lawn without looking like he was retreating.

[Saintheart]

A Clearing Along the Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Foret, Cannath Vale
Close to sunset, the Eighth of Mirtual
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 4 of 6

At Alastor mentioning goblins, the man released the tension on his bow. He pulled the arrow from its rest and stowed it in an unseen quiver next to the doorway. "Well, why didn't you say so? No ****ing friends of mine, stinking hobgoblins. Name's Jorr Natherson - but you already knew that." Natherson came clomping across the porch, down the stairs, and across his lawn to meet the party. "I've been seeing 'em all over the place. How many of 'em altogether I don't know. A lot, I'm guessing - stinkin' pig****ers normally stay up yonder in the Wyrmbones, but looks like we've got a big war party down here. Maybe they came down the Old Forest Road, maybe by Skull Gorge. I'd be guessing Skull Gorge. But why would you think I'd know where..." He stopped suddenly, nodding. "Vraath Keep - you're thinkin' they're holed up in Vraath Keep. Just the kind of stupid thing the gods-damned porkheads'd do." He made some sort of noise with his throat, somewhere between a sigh and a growl. "So what, you're wanting me to take you there?"

Make a Diplomacy roll here.

[Aracor]

Vokon growls: Yes. We're going to drive them out of the keep, and any that survive won't be coming out of the mountains again for a full generation.

He lifts his oversized hammer and shakes it for emphasis.

We already fought off around a dozen of them as we entered the town. They were fanatics, and slit their own throats instead of running when the battle turned against them.

[Saintheart]

A Clearing Along the Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Foret, Cannath Vale
Close to sunset, the Eighth of Mirtual
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 4 of 6

"That so," Jorr grunted. It wasn't certain whether he was asking a question or not. "Didn't think I'd see the day ****ing hobgoblins started cleaning up after themselves. Still..." And here he actually got a clear look at Arendi's face, and Jorr's eyes flicked to the insignia of Kelemvor at the cleric's chest. "Well, suppose you're doing the right thing if a greywarden's walking with you. Good men one and all, ones I knew from Rethmar anyway. Can't have a cleric of Kelemvor bashing around uselessly out here. All right, I'm your man. I'll not go into Vraath Keep, but anything in the walls I'd warrant a greywarden can handle. I know the trails, and I can get you to the place. Fifty gold, that's all I ask."

In mechanical terms, leaving aside that Jorr knows where the keep is, having him along removes any need to make Survival checks to navigate and forage while he's with you in Shaareach Forest, i.e. you won't get lost and you won't run out of food or water even if you have to trailbreak off the marked trails. 50 gp to hire him for the whole of the time you're in the forest.

[danielxcutter]

"Deal," Arendi said, counting out the gold. I could get used to being socially accepted.

[Saintheart]

A Clearing Along the Cutter's Trail
Shaareach Foret, Cannath Vale
Close to sunset, the Eighth of Mirtual
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 4 of 6

"A'right then," said Jorr, stowing the gold in a purse about six inches from the knife. He glanced up at the shadows of the great eucalypts above. "You'll be wantin' to set up camp for th' night. No matter how crazy they say I am, I'm not stupid enough to go ****ing around in this forest after dark. Suppose you can set up here on the grass if it suits you. Ain't got room for six, let alone ****ing bears and more damn dogs." He hesitated. "Got some leaf-wrap berritos here if you want. Guess I could stretch it somewhat for dinner. We could talk about how you want to get to the Keep later, but basically you got two ways: head up the trails and the Dawn Way and get off close as you can get to the Keep before going off-road, or stick to the trails and then trailbreak through. I'm thinking you'd get a warm ****ing reception going right up the Way, that's where most of the ****ers seem to be laying, but going direct off trail's going to sure be slower. And that's no ****ing picnic either."

If you want to settle in for the evening and want to accept Jorr's offer of a meal, it spares you having to use up trail rations or forage, and as said he's likely going to be hard to convince going out at or after dark. The choice of path for tomorrow, as before, basically comes down to two routes: the faster but more dangerous (Dawn Way) or slower but hopefully less dangerous (up the woodcutters' trails and then trailbreak through to the Keep). Or you might have something else in mind. And there's also the pace to set: fast, normal, or slow.

[A.A.King]

"I can assure you that Dottle is harmless, but I can understand not having the room for her. I'll make sure that the animals can get comfortable outside then before coming inside. Sounds like we've got quite a few things to discuss."

[ShedShadow]

"Elf's new best friend! Swearing competition all night long! Arrah!" At this, Aidan smiled as he walked outside the fence to pick a nice tree to set up a brief log shelter under. Since he'd traveled light for speed, he hadn't brought his tent and had been counting on it to sleep under a log shelter. After finishing his shelter and having made his bed, he walks over to Alastor. "I suppose my new best friend here knows better than I, at least the area around here, and he's got a point. I was thinking maybe we take the Dawn Way and try to feel out more bloodeyed hobgoblins ambushes. That way we'd be doing our job getting rid of the stinking basterds, and maybe make some better time. I know you don't like leaving the circus behind. I can travel by the side as good as anyone, perhaps Jorr on the other, and that way we can feel out either side. What do you say?"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi shook his head. "I think it's better saving our resources for the keep. Maybe take the Dawn Way on the return trip to get rid of the remaining ones, perhaps. How long would the forest trails take?"