Please, trust us. We will be with you. If we stick together we all have a better chance of surviving.
Eustoma begins to organize people at the back door. She has them line up with any fighters in front and back and regular citizens in the middle. "Once upstairs is cleared we're going to make our way around to the shrine, and check for survivors there. We'll take to the woods as soon as we can. Everyone needs to be as quiet as possible."
Sia gives Pele a friendly nudge, and goes back to watching Eustoma.
There's a brief pause, then you hear a second man's voice. "Farrow, you're not seriously going to go with them! You'll get slaughtered!"
"Come on, Clidon," says the first man. "You heard him. We have to go."
"I'm not going anywhere! I'm staying right here where it's safe!"
Downstairs, one wiry man steps forward when Sia calls for warriors. "Name's Delvin, ma'am. I have some militia training. Give me a weapon and I'll do my best to keep everybody else safe."
"Have a look in the Green; the town isn't a safe place to be!", Wulfram replied. "The inn is clear for the moment, but more will come. We need to make for the woods!
Trust us, Clidon and Farrow. We already dealt with the hobgoblins downstairs. We will all survive today.
There's another pause, then a sigh. "Alright. Let's get out of here."
The door opens as two well-dressed traders emerge. The two men each carry a pack laden with supplies. They nervously follow you back downstairs, and as a group, you exit the Taproot.
Rogar leads the group quickly and quietly through the streets, using the buildings as cover from the rampaging hobgoblins. Soon, you reach the Riverwood Shrine. A wooden deck surrounds the front of the octagonal structure with broad archways leading into a place of worship. To its left stands a moss-encrusted stone mon ument. Carved birds, branches, and fruits decorate the wooden supports of the temple's entryway.
A dead villager is curled up on the wooden deck before the temple. A wolf hungrily tears into his remains.
A humble wooden shack sits behind the shrine, a short path leading from it to a rear door to the temple.
Rogar, barely slowing down, swiftly crosses his arms in an X, and, with a throw of his fists, sends a mass of stone at the wolf.
However, as every time before, the shot goes wide. He wrinkles his nose in distaste, but continues to try and make his way into the shrine. As he goes, he looks for anything of value, making sure to glance at the dead villager.
After the traders unlocked the door and joined the group of refugees, Wulfram retrieved his spear. He coaxed Pele into the unfamiliar pack and hoisted it onto his shoulders. "Keep an eye out for an axe," he said. Besides being useful later, It'll help with taking out the bridge."
"Stay together and use the cover of the buildings to shield you from the Green" Wulfram advised the civilians. "That's where the enemy seems to be concentrated." They walked quickly to the shrine, making it there without incident, until they came to a hungry tearing at the flesh of a dead villager on the front deck. Rogar fired a wild shot at the wolf (How is he doing that?), and Wolfram moved to interpose himself between the wolf and the group, using his spear to keep it at bay. He hated to see the body left there to be eaten by wild animals, but he had to consider the living first.
Like Rogar, Aramant doesn't wait - the good bard can't accept the wolf over the body of the man, and moves to attack the beast with his weapon at hand, trying to surprise it.
Eustoma let's a sling bullet fly with her sling staff at the wolf.
Sia bounds forward and attacks the other wolf.
The wolf looks up from its meal to see Aramant rushing at it. The tiefling's blade sinks into the animal's side, and it yelps in pain.
As Wulfram moves into threaten the beast, Rogar and Eustoma both miss with their attacks. Sia bounds forward and bites at the other wolf's leg, lightly wounding it.
The wolf snarls and bites Aramant, leaving a nasty gash in his arm. The bard returns the favor, cutting the wolf down with another slash of his sword.
Rogar looks at the remains the wolf was chewing on. The old man wears homespun robes, and a bloodstained holy symbol of Erastil hangs from his savaged neck. His eyes stare unblinking towards the heavens.
"Father Noelan," Aubrin says as she comes up alongside Aramant. "He was a good man. These damned hobs will pay." She hands the tiefling a potion of cure light wounds.
Eustoma moves into the shrine looking for more survivors,and supplies. "Anyone here? We need to get going away from here."
Thanks, Aubrin. - says the Tiefling, solemn, looking at the body of the religious man - Desna shall see upon him and shine a path of stars on the eternal night.
The tiefling drinks the potion, then follows Eustoma to the shrine.
Wooden statues of both Erastil and Desna—both now chopped and marred by hobgoblin weapons—stand in their own alcoves in the northwest end of the shrine, while alcoves on either side serve as general shrines to the variety of other gods and spirits worshiped by the locals. A dozen human bodies lie scattered across the floor and pews, and have been left to rot as invaders go about tearing apart the building.
Two hobgoblins are present--one stands in the middle of the room brandishing his sword and shield. The other one stands with her back to the altar, nocking an arrow to her composite longbow.
Sia bounds into the shrine, and makes her way to the back hobgoblin, and bites at the goblin loading the bow.
Wulfram's shoulders slumped slightly as he recognized the body as Father Noelan. His moment of grief was cut short by shouts from inside the shrine.
These things are truly everywhere! - said the tiefling that, seeing that the hobgoblins were still unprepared for his attack, decided to quickly advance and try to engage the closest one.
"Torag, help me s'rike true." Rogar mutters as he sends another boulder hurtling through the air at the archer.
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Sia darts around the soldier in front to get to the hobgoblin archer. She tears at the hobgoblin's leg, eliciting a hiss of pain.
Armant moves up to engage the first soldier, delivering a quick slash to the hobgoblin's side.
The archer snarls and takes a step away from Sia before firing an arrow point blank at the wolf. It digs into the animal's shoulder.
The sword-wielder retaliates at Aramant, but the tiefling easily parries the strike.
Hurrying to join the battle, Wulfram moved into the shrine beside Aramant. I his haste, he stumbled at the last moment, and his thrust went wide of the Hobgoblin.
Eustoma fires her sling at the bow wielding hobgoblin. "Nasty creatures. Why did you come here?"
Aramant attacks once again with his dueling sword, quickly swinging it and, at the path, trying to bite the enemy as well. He five-foot-steps towards the direction of the other enemy at the end.
Eustoma and Rogar both miss with their ramged attacks. Seeing the dwarf struggle, Aubrin touches his shoulder, granting him a minor blessing. "Maybe you could use some of Cayden's luck."
Wulfram moves in to stab with his spear, but he stumbles and his attack goes wide.
Aramant slices into his foe again, and as the hobgoblin staggers back, the tiefling sinks his fangs into his neck. Blood pours from the savage wound, and the bard steps over his fallen foe.
Sia snarls and lunges at the archer again, scoring another solid bite.
Cursing, the hobgoblin drops her bow and draws twin axes. She chops into Sia's haunches, drawing blood.
Wulfram charged the remaining foe, howling with rage. "That's for Father Noelan!", he cried.
Wulfram impales the hobgoblin on the end of his spear, driving it through her chest. She jerks spasmodically before falling limp.
With the threats dispatched, Aubrin hobbles over to Eustoma and gives her another potion of cure light wounds to feed to Sia.
Aramant advances, looking at the amulet. He touches it and closes his eyes, for the split of a second, thinking.
This amulet belongs to Lirosa... A local half-elf hunter. She's usually by the shrine, when she's in town... "Recharging" the luck of her amulet, on her own words.
The tiefling feels a little shaken, but quickly recomposes himself.
Let's look around this place. She might still be around, somewhere. I will carry it with me until we find her.
Aramant also detects magic across the items and tries to identify the ones he's capable of.
While detecting magic, Aramant sees two faint auras coming from an overlooked alcove. Inside, he discovers some silver dust, an amulet, a birch wand.
There doesn't seem to be anything else left of value here.
"I'm going to check the shack behind the shrine," Wulfram said. He walked back outside and down the path to the modest building. He knocked on the door, calling out, "Is anyone there? It's Wulfram — we're gathering survivors and heading for safety."
"Oh, fantastic! See, I told you we'd be alright. Come on in!" says a voice.
The door opens to reveal the smiling face of a Chelish woman with bronze skin, wavy blonde hair, and pale green eyes. A squirrel perches on her shoulder. You recognize her as Father Noelan's apprentice, Rhyna. Seven other people are crammed into the small shack that contains little else except a bed, writing desk, and cooking pot.
"It's nice to see a friendly face. The last ones we saw were all angry and murderous."
"Rhyna, thank the heavens you're OK!" declared Wulfram. "The situation in the town isn't good — there's an army of hobgoblins here. I don't understand how they could have got here without us seeing them coming. We need to head for the forest; gather what gear and supplies you have. There's more of us in the Shrine."
Wulfram paused for a moment. "I... I'm afraid I have some bad news. They killed Father Noelan! We slew the two hobbos in the Shrine to avenge him."
The other townsfolk gasp in shock when they hear of Father Noelan's fate. A few begin to sob.
Rhyna looks sad for a moment, then the squirrel on her shoulder chitters something in her ear. She nods and squares her shoulders. "You're right, Chip. Father Noelan would want us to honor his sacrifice by getting to safety." She turns to the gathered townsfolk. "Okay, people, you heard the man! Grab your gear and some food and let's get going! We will live to see a brighter day tomorrow!"
The villagers nod and swiftly stuff provisions into whatever they can find.
Wulfram led the townsfolk in the shack to join the rest of the group in the shrine. He stopped by Father Noelan's body on the front deck. "We don't have time to dig a grave right now. Perhaps we should carry him so we can give him a proper funeral once we're in the forest."
Once everyone was together, Wulfram addressed the townsfolk: "We took some weapons from the enemy. Who can use a sword or a bow? There's also some armor, but it's covered in the blood of it's former owners."
Estimated gives the potion to Siam. "You sure do get in trouble wolf"
She goes over to take a look at the amulet and potions. "Let's see if I can figure out what they are."
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A man and a woman step forward to claim weapons, the two lone warriors among the bunch.
Rogar loads up with all the gear he can carry, and starts heading to the trading company as fast as he can manage.
"Come on! We don' have time ta waste!"
Eustoma tucks the potions into her pack, and the amulet around her neck. "Let's go to the Trading Company." She moves out taking the lead and keeping an eye out.
"Is there anything else at the shine that we should take with us?", Wulfram asked Rhyna.
He made sure all the civilians were accounted for before setting out for the Phaendar Trading Company. "Stay together! I don't want to lose anyone."
"Well, we keep some magic items in the alcove here--oh! Looks like you found them. I guess that's everything then." Rhyna takes a last look at the death and devastation around the shrine and lets out a little sigh before the group heads out, following Eustoma and Rogar.
The sounds of battle continue across town as you stealthily approach your next destination. A signpost by the road announces the clapboard wooden shop and barnlike smithy sharing a single large, stone wall to be the Phaendar Trading Company. The smithy's double doors stand open, revealing a large, still-glowing forge within. Two slaughtered goats and a dead horse fill an adjacent animal pen. Many fresh scratches and dents mar the trading post's heavy wooden door, and a chair leg juts through one broken window. Small flames lick at the thatch rooftop where a red-hot iron has been tossed.
Three Ironfang soldiers prowl the yard in front of the building, though all seem to be nursing injuries. Still, they turn to face you as you draw near, snarling and brandishing their swords.
Wulfram's eyes narrowed with anger. Burn the Trading Company will you? Two can play with fire! He called on the flame spirits, preparing to unleash a burst of fire as the enemy approached.
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S
Range 15 ft.
Area cone-shaped burst
Duration instantaneous
Saving Throw Reflex half; Spell Resistance yes
A cone of searing flame shoots from your fingertips. Any creature in the area of the flames takes 1d4 points of fire damage per caster level (maximum 5d4). Flammable materials burn if the flames touch them. A character can extinguish burning items as a full-round action.
As the hobgoblins rush towards Wulfram, the smith unleashes a blast of fire on the trio. They cry out in pain as the flames scorch them, and as they stagger forward, Wulfram impales two of them with his spear in quick succession. They double over and fall to the ground.
The only survivor howls with rage and slashes at the burly shaman, but the wild attack goes wide.
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Rogar throws another boulder at the last hobgoblin standing.
Aramant acted slow, but he was happy to see his companions had the situation completely at hand. If the other hobgoblin is still standing, he will move and attack him with his arcane-infused Aldori dueling sword.
Eustoma tries to knock the poker off the roof with a sling bullet, but her shot only clatters against the building's stone wall.
Aubrin grants Aramant a temporary surge of strength.
The hobgoblin raises his shield to block Rogar's blast, but that gives Aramant the opening he needs. The tiefling cuts down the last enemy.
The flames slowly start to spread across the wet thatch roof.
"Can anyone create a volume of water to douse the flames?, Wolfram asked. "I'm afraid I didn't prepare that spell today!" He rushed inside the Trading Company, yelling, "Anyone in here? The roof is on fire! Time to leave!"
He looked around for useful gear to grab.