The remaining gob attempts to continue pulling the cart into the temple. He's going to attempt to pull it between Haley and the wall heading for the entrance.
strength check to pull cart solo. DC10 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
The strong little gobbie pulls it 15 feet to u20. That places it five feet from the steps and another 15 feet from the entrance!
Alaren watches as the Goblin Warchater is engulfed in flames. Then looks back at the remaining singed Goblin pulls the smoldering wagon towards the new Temple.
She looks around for something to put out the blaze. Seeing nothing within the immediate area she thinks of how else to put out the flames or at the very least separate the Goblin from pulling the wagon any further. Seeing how the Goblins bounce and weave about she decides not to waste any more arrows on the annoying little creatures.
She hopes that E-Terah is not in a cursed phase as she voices a plan.
Everyone help me tip over the wagon so that we can make sure it does not reach the Temple. Let it burn itself out. Alaren hopes for the assistance to ensure the wagon can be tipped over.
Focused on the wagon - she moves to beside Haley and pushes with all her strength.
1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 + 2 = 22 Melee attack on the wagon + Rangers Focus
Finally an awesome dice roll!!!! YEAH!
The fire rushes through Haley like strong wine, almost intoxicating, but the pull suddenly becomes severe. Where at first the sensation of controlling the primal element was exhilarating, the spell's demand on her had become deadly. It was as though something wanted to empty her out- to use her blood like hot oil to keep the flames burning- and in a way it had. Her connection to her magic was spent. She was spent.
Haley slumped to her hands and knees, loose strands of her fiery red hair cascaded across her fine features, the tattoos cooling like a newly forged weapon hitting the water to harden.
She could hear the screech of the wagon wheels as they rolled by and could smell the charred flesh of the goblin moving it along. In her mind she saw herself commanding the fire to swallow up the beast and retreat in upon itself before reaching the temple. Yet, the flame did not hear her at all.
Oh Gods, to watch the temple burn again...
She had to stop it, but she could barely stay conscience.
Just breath firebug.. She murmured to herself. It was something her father always said to her when she got worked up and he always ended it with her nickname. Just breeeath.. Fire needed oxygen to burn after all.
Haley found her feet. She turned her gaze to the churning wagon and its death ride towards the temple.
Haley takes no movement or standard actions this turn.
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18Str check to add to tipping the cart or Aid Another. We're trying to squish the goblin and immobilize the cart of burning wood,right?
Seeing Alderan point and say something about the cart that registered as gibberish due to her curse,she figured she wanted to tip it over. She saw the manic goblin,in a show of prodigious strength despite its puny frame,shove the cart right up to the temple's steps.
She reached over her shoulder to affix her crossbow onto her back before she waddled over to the half-elf. She rammed the cart with her shoulder,biceps bulging under the sleeves of her blouse as she helped her shove it over onto the chattering goblin shoving against them.Sparks and popping embers fluttered and reflected off her spectacles in the growing haze of smoke and approaching dusk.
Alaren approaches the flaming cart determined to keep it’s blaze from reaching the newly rebuilt temple. Despite the language barrier of E’Terah’s curse, Alaren’s intentions are clear.
The two, working together are able to grab the rear of the cart and upheave it with a combined thrust. The solitary goblin gives out a giddy shout of glee at this maneuver. Was it delighted by the fire’s embrace or thinking the cart suddenly levitated and would float inside on it’s own. No one will ever know as the sound was smothered as the cracking burning cart splintering on the goblins head as it flipped over, the blaze no longer threatening Sandpoints Temple or townfolks.
The once festive courtyard with it's bright colors and sounds of festive banter seem a dream that happened long ago. The sun long set, the streets are lit be the harsh flickering orange glow of fires and embers, not the usual soft radiance of the towns oil lamps. Those of which remain unbroken were never lit. The frivolous sounds of joy and laughter replace by hurried cries of those needing help and those offering help. Bucket brigades replace flagons of ale. Litter carriers replace food venders. Tears of suffering replace tears of joy.
Around you are over half a dozen dead goblin bodies, oozing innards into the soil. Once festive street carts with bright umbrella’s and streamers lay charred and burnt. Gray soot ash covers all creating a monochromatic wasteland.
Seeing the goblin threat removed, three ordinary citizens rush to the upturned cart. One brings a blanket and begins beating out the fire left on the Temples steps. Another pulls his shirt off and follows the lead of the first. The third, a boy yet in his teens, begins stomping and spreading out the edge of the flames. Their efforts smother and contain the last remains of fire.
A familiar figure rushes towards the group. His flowing robes trailing behind and arms outstretched. Father Zanthus reaches you, breathing heavily from all his exertion. He quickly scans each of you over. Thank you! Thanks to you all! You have saved many lives here today.He pauses and add humbly. And our Temple.
After taking a closer look at everyone he kneels before Dairkal. Be still Master Halfling. You are hurt. He takes Dairkal’s wrist, holding the arm out straight to get a better look. Your eye is superficial, only time can heal that. This deep cut however . . . He takes a deep deliberate breath. Then exhales. Mentally and spiritually centered on his duty, Father Zantus holds his open hand a few inches from Dairkals arm. A faint golden glow forms between the healers hand and the wound. Small sparks flicker over and around the injured flesh. The sparks coalesce around clotted areas striking and crating tiny puffs of white smoke as all infection and dirt are incinerated. The tiny sparks continue their dance as they knit the sterile wound closed. Within a few seconds, they only tell tale sign of the injury is the island of newly repaired skin amoung a sea of mud, blood and soot.
Healing for Dairkal 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Father Zantus look at the rest of the assembly. Is anyone else injured?
Once the last goblin was crushed beneath the flaming cart due to her and the half-elf's combined effort,E-Terah felt her ears pop and her vocal cords loosen as her curse relinquished its grip with the last combatant incompacitated.
She stepped back and surveyed the scene. Dusk had completely fallen,her eyes reflecting the firelight much like an animals would as her darkvision pierced the shadows that the smoky glow of flame failed to illuminate. Her eyes shined pink behind her spectacles as she scanned the area for lurking goblins.
Perception:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
She saw three citizens rush out of hiding to beat at the flames threatening the cathedral. She assisted best she could by willing the little moisture in the humid air to gather into globes of water,a couple gallons worth,to douse any nearby fires.
Cast Create Water
Then the older tanned cleric from before came hurrying to them,touching them with the concern of a parental figure,thanking them. He healed the halfling of a deep cut dealt by one of the goblins filthy ragged dogslicers.
When he asked whether she needed healing,she waved him off and firmly pushed the frazzled half-elf toward him.One o' th' little turds set Alaren's hair on fire. Might wanna treat her scalp f'r Burns 'fore it gets infected an' all 'er hair falls out. Imma go on ahead and see if'n there being's anymore gobbies. Where you see a couple,there's always a score more nearby.
She noticed the tattooed girl who had slung fire and smoke at the goblins slumped on the ground in a numb stupor. Blood and soot smeared her heart shaped face. It brought an inkling of unease whenever the girl stared at the multiple fires spread around with an almost mesmerized fashion. Perhaps a suppressed pyromaniac.
Nonetheless she did help despite her inexperienced methods in the battle. Her only excuse was that goblins were as hard to hit as it was to squash a frantic mouse with a sledge,especially if they were whipped into a frenzy.
She clapped a hand onto the slight girl's frame,careful not to do it too hard lest she dislocated the waif's shoulder. A burst of sparkles like glowing shard of glass suffused her torn clothing and mended the tears from the goblin's ragged nails.
Cast Mending on Haley's dress
You did good,girl. Fixed yer dress--be a shame t' just throw it away.
Knowledge check(Local):1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
Wonder if there's a bounty for goblins here? May as well make this a productive day.The she-dwarf wondered as she took out her crossbow once more and inserted a fresh bolt case.
Alaren watches as Father Zanthus heals the Halfling's woulds. She rubs at the singed hair on the top of her head.
Father Zantus look at the rest of the assembly. Is anyone else injured?
Before she could speak up the she-dwarf firmly pushed her toward him. One o' th' little turds set Alaren's hair on fire. Might wanna treat her scalp f'r Burns 'fore it gets infected an' all 'er hair falls out. Imma go on ahead and see if'n there being's anymore gobbies. Where you see a couple,there's always a score more nearby.
Wait E-Tearh, I'll go with you to look for more Gobs.
Alaren pauses to see if Father Zanthus is able to heal the itchiness of the burn on her head. She rubs at her forehead.
As the battle finally ends, the juggler sits on the ground, slumped against Haley. "That's some kinda magic ya slung there. I'm impressed" He says with a weak smile.
When Father Zantus comes over to heal him, the halfling thanks him profusely "Not worried bout my eye. Gives me sort of a dashing, wounded warrior look."
Now that he's all healed up and his energy renewed, Dair gets up and begins to check the goblin's bodies, starting with the warchanter.
Haley flinches as E-Terah gruffly makes her way to her and begins casting a spell. She knows the dwarf to be a fine warrior and a defender of the weak, but the fight has taken a lot out of her. When her robes begin to mend themselves, thread by thread, she gives a small grin.
Hey, thanks. The idea of having the nicest looking attire among the rag tag group in the battered square strikes her as morbidly humorous. She tries to stifle it but it comes out like birdsong through the hand she is placed over her mouth. When she hears Dairkal's words it becomes a full and open laugh.
Our dashing little warrior! Only apples bring him low! She nudges his shoulder playfully and turns to the others.
However, Father Zantus isn't laughing and the attack is surely to blame.
Father, what has become of the rest of Sandpoint? Is everyone alright? Should we go and hide with the others and let the Sheriff and guards sort this out?
The fight was a thing of spontaneous resolve and boldness brought out by adrenaline and...something else. It HAD felt like something was urging her own. And the fire! How it had obeyed her like never before!
But she was just a girl. A student- not a warrior, mercenary or battle mage. This was a whim she'd tell the boys back at the academy to drive them wild. A story to keep hidden from her parents for all time.
I'd just.. She hesitates. I'd get in the way. She says to herself more than anything.
During this moment of even-tempered calm each of you takes upon yourselves tasks that suites your sensibilities.
Perception:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
As you scan the area you perceive no addition threats from goblins in the courtyard. At greater distances there is still the minor sounds of battle, clanging swords, calls of support by the town guard, and shrieking and singing goblins echo through the streets, but at the festival itself, all is calm due to the courageous efforts of you and your companions.
Knowledge check(Local):1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
When thinking about goblins and bounty, your mind is brought back to the goblin toss gamemaster from the morning festivities. Oh how long ago that time seems now. He introduced himself as Daverin Hosk of the Goblin Squash Stables and seemed to brag to the point of obsession about his collection of goblin trophies.
Father Zanthus approaches you. Such beautiful features to be marred by goblin cruelty. Let us see what damage Desna’s kindness can repair.
The warm glow and divine sparks begin knitting your scalp. Almost instantly the tight skin and itchiness are relieved. Some hair that was lightly singed is repaired, that with more severe damage gently falls away. A thinned patch still remains, although it now consists of only healthy hair and scalp. There. Much better. He says gently. A bit of hairstyling and no one will be the wiser. Before he turns to leave, he takes your hands in his, glances at the courtyard turned battleground, then back into your almond shaped eyes. Thank you. He lingers that phrase in the air a moment before moving to seek others in need of aid.
Examining the warchanter you find his studded leather armor and fetid clothing to be burned beyond use. Perhaps that’s for the best. His dogslicer, like most goblin weapons is a cobbled assortment of scavenged metals. A short bow and crudely fashioned arrows smolders in the embers. Kicking through the remains, you do manage to find a burnt leather pouch with twenty gold pieces inside, and one other undamaged item. A sturdy glass flask. Rubbing off the soot you discover it contains a slightly glowing blue liquid.
Searching the remaining goblin warriors finds only their useless crude weapons and a handful of silver and copper coins.
9 silver, 26 copper
Father, what has become of the rest of Sandpoint? Is everyone alright? Should we go and hide with the others and let the Sheriff and guards sort this out?
Hide? Haaa. He puts a hand on you shoulder. My young one, it’s all goblinkind that should hide from you. At least according to what my eyes witnessed. He pauses. You have a powerful gift. The citizens of Sandpoint are grateful you were here.As for the Sheriff and his men. I’m sure I speak for them in saying you have helped a grat deal already.
Aside from a few aching ribs and a strained muscles you are physically unharmed. As for your pride and dignity, well, that is left to be seen.
A small handful of others stop by and help stomp out the remaining fires. A couple linger but most move into your area, the off to others to help out the ravaged town as best they can.
The one item in common is all are amazed at the suppression of the goblin attack in the courtyard. Each citizen in turn takes the time to thank all of you, individually or as a group as they learn of your participation.
Father Zanthus approaches you. Such beautiful features to be marred by goblin cruelty. Let us see what damage Desna’s kindness can repair.The warm glow and divine sparks begin knitting your scalp. Almost instantly the tight skin and itchiness are relieved. Some hair that was lightly singed is repaired, that with more severe damage gently falls away. A thinned patch still remains, although it now consists of only healthy hair and scalp. There. Much better. He says gently. A bit of hairstyling and no one will be the wiser.
Alaren again rubs her head and looks up at the priest. Thank you Father.
She looks around again at the carnage and the destruction caused by the Goblins. Thank goodness the Goblins did not get to set fire to the Temple. She pauses and looks around again, then feeling the onset of exhaustion from the impromptu fight she sits next to Haley. I agree with Dairkal, you have some great talent behind the sorcery.
She gives a tired smile to Haley. Looking at the rest of the group, she watches as Dairkal combes through the bodies of the Goblins.
Anyone know a good place to stay for the evening. I think I need a bath.
She watches as the townspeople continue to move about the courtyard.
Perception check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
Alaren watches to see if anyone is watching the group of complete strangers as if they were going to attack or acting suspicious as if they helped the Goblins get into the city.
To no one one in particular she wonders aloud. I wonder why a Goblin hoard would attack an entire town? What would cause it? I will need to make a journal entry for this for sure. Maybe more observation ….. her thoughts trail off.
E-Terah made a point of leveling her crossbow at the smoke choked darkness,eyes glowing a dull pink with her darkvision that made several of the townsfolk stare. She started to waddle off towards the sounds of conflict and goblin chatter.
C'mon,now,Ms.Alaren. Let's bust some gobbies. Think I'll make it me new hobby. A hysterical cackle escaped her at her rhyme.
Sure the half-elf could easily keep up,the she-dwarf charged off into the streets and the last thing anyone saw of her was a fuschia Mohawk and streaming braids slice around the corner. Slow and steady like a rolling barrel full of stout ale on a level street.
Masao's expression was rather sullen as he helped with the cleanup. He'd managed to get cleaned up a bit from the effects of the spell the goblin had used on him, but he couldn't clear out the image of him rolling around laughing while others fought for their lives. He didn't speak to those who thanks him, simply nodding and forcing a smile.
He stomped out the fires and kept an eye peeled for any rogue goblins who may still be hanging around.
Perception Roll: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Perception check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27 Alaren watches to see if anyone is watching the group of complete strangers as if they were going to attack or acting suspicious as if they helped the Goblins get into the city.
Alaren’s senses focus keenly on her surroundings. She is very confident all seem as it appears and no one is paying them any attention in a way that would be deemed suspicious.
He stomped out the fires and kept an eye peeled for any rogue goblins who may still be hanging around. Perception Roll: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Masao also check the courtyard and immediate area for signs of additional goblin activity. Although not as confident in his perception as Alaren is in her’s, he still convinced that no additional goblins are in the courtyard.
With great bravado and a war-cry the fuchsia haired she dwarf barrels off to the north following the distant echoing sounds of continued battle.
C'mon,now,Ms.Alaren. Let's bust some gobbies. Think I'll make it me new hobby. A hysterical cackle escaped her at her rhyme.Sure the half-elf could easily keep up,the she-dwarf charged off into the streets and the last thing anyone saw of her was a fuschia Mohawk and streaming braids slice around the corner. Slow and steady like a rolling barrel full of stout ale on a level street.
After a quick look around the area and seeing no danger or anyone watching them she quickly gets up from next to Haley. Watching the she-dwarf charge off into the streets to find more goblins, Alaren quickly follows.Wait E-Terah, don't go looking for trouble .... at least not by yourself.
Alaren quickly brings her bow to a more defensive position and notches an arrow to be ready for anything.
Cast Shield of Faith
Excited and seeing she was pressed for time as the purpilish-gray goblin assaulted a brave but small hunting hound valiantly defending its master the she-dwarf dwarf drew a rune of protection meaning 'Shield' in the dwarven language just before her curse gripped her once more.
A shimmering shield of force much like a distortion of heat in the air formed to envelop her. She grimaced at the sight of the mangy,boil-covered oversized rodent the goblin rode that was ironically called a 'goblin-dog'. The damned things squeaked and squealed like rats--even growled but other than the fact they were almost the size of small,starved wolves was where resemblance to any type of dog abruptly ended.
Seeing that both were preoccupied,she carefully edged closer into range as steathily as she could.She raised her crossbow and fired at the goblin's snarling mount as it traded snaps with the dog. She aimed for its boil-covered throat.
1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 + 1 = 13Attk
1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2Attk
Dairkal brings his new found potion to Haley for a consultation of it’s contents.
As you both study it you search your memory and experience for clues to it identity.
DC8 Arcana check
Father Zantus wanders over during you conversation.
Ah. It seems the rancid creatures have learned to make use of civilized elixirs. What you have there is a healing draft. He goes on to point out the identifying characteristics of the blue liquid, it’s glowing nature and viscosity so you can easily identify it in the future.
Single use cure light wound potion.1d8
As the goblin dog snaps and hisses at the hunting hound, the commando brandishes his large horsechopper preparing for the kill. The noble looks on helpless from behind a rain barrel.
Their attention fully on the animal, neither the goblin nor it’s mount are aware of you at the time you fire your deadly weapon. flatfooted
The arrow penetrates the thick wrinkled hairless hide of the goblin dog. It shrieks, shacking it head and throwing loose the arrow from it’s neck, blood oozing from the wound.
The commando and it’s mount look around for the brazen attacker.
Goblin initiative 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
Roll initiative against the commando.
Up ahead in the shadowed darkness you spot E’Terah stoping then loosing a bolt at an unseen enemy.
You are 40 feet behiend her.
Before the Action
The others didn't understand. How could they? Father Zantus, Alaren and Dairkal seemed convinced there was something special about her. Something powerful! She should explain to them that the magic that blazed from her was all together new-- and not truly hers. That it felt somehow granted. Never before could she bluster out more than a weak cantrip. This furious new craft was bestowed...but at what cost? Haley bit her lower lip gently as she considered.
E-Terah's look seemed less impressed. In fact, there seemed to be a look of stern appraisal in the eccentric she-dwarf. The Tian warrior said little and his expression revealed even less. Haley decided to break the flow of her thoughts by introducing herself.
Hello, friend. She said with a smile, extending her hand. She knew a little about Tian namesake and assumed the swordmen's pride was wounded. She sought to sooth it by speaking of his bravery and compassion. You fought with us back there in the chaos and have even stayed to tend to the area. That's very noble of you.
* * *
When Dairkal returned from his looting she took the potion offered to her. She gave him a smirk after he spoke of coins.
Haven't you heard money is the root of all evil, Dairkal? She chided playfully raising the potion to her lips for a small taste. She was unsure of her spell casting capability, but they had memorized lesser potions by taste at the academy. She poured a drop or two on the tip of her tongue.
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 Perception
Cinnamon? No, nutmeg? And was that the taste of...dog hair? Haley scrunched her nose unable to determine the quality of the potion. That it was most likely mixed and brewed by goblin hands had yet to cross the impulsive young girl's mind.
Reluctantly, she began the words to a cantrip.
Uhm...Alora' tel grimlora' seel' magika..
Haley casts Detect Magic.
Haley's pupils sink into the white of her eyes like ship's sinking and both orbs begin to glow with an intense pure blue. She tilts her head towards the potion in her hand to try and identify the contents.
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16 Spellcraft
The burning blue of her eyes cools to their normal color as she dismissed the effect.
A healing potion. Magic in a bottle! She licks her lips. Yes, she did taste cinnamon!
The light crossbow was a gift from her father for her 16th name day. Every Starday after he returned from work he would take Haley to the low docks of Magnimar and they would take turns firing at the ship wrecks off of Sadow Cove. The goal was to hit a small slash of white paint that streaked the mid-mast of a Chelixian junker that was half sunk in the distance. They would spend the afternoon making up stories about where the ship had been, who it's Captain was and the origins of the white paint. By the time she was 18, Haley could hit the mast 1 in 10 times.
Her father had insisted she take it along, just in case, on her return trip to Sandpoint.
When Alaren, E-Terah and Masao rushed ahead towards the sound of strife, Haley looked at the slender weapon and its companion quiver hanging where she left it from a high tree branch. The magic had left her- that sweet, angry fire that poured from her- and it may never return..but she would not allow her new allies to go in alone.
Moving to the tree, she brought the weapon down and slung it crisscross along her chest. Giving a small tug on the pin that held the lithe arms down, Haley snapped the crossbow into place and fed it a bolt with practiced fingers. Her hair caught the breeze and she looked to Dairkal with a wink.
I bet the goblins up the road have twice as many coins if you have the heart to find them. With that, she ran through the square in hopes of catching the others in time to help.
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18Initiative
Chortling in her husky voice at her success,she slapped the reloading lever and snapped another bolt into place. As the goblin dog squealed in surprise and shook loose the previous bolt,she prepared to loose another to add to its hide.
She'd drop the goblin commando's mount then she'd focus on it. Hopefully the hunting dog would remain alive long enough to hinder it. Or at least give fine canine a chance to escape.
No dog deserved to die under the fangs and blades of vermin.
With her Shield of Faith providing her deflection,she made a sound like a death gurgle and ran a thumb across her throat and pointed two fingers at it to make her intention clear.
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21Intimidate
Alaren watches the she-dwarf as she turns the corner and E-Terah comes into view. E-Terah has her crossbow in her hands and fires at something. Alaren quickly continues toward E-Terah hoping she is not to late to help out.
Alaren takes a double move, moving quickly but quietly the 40 feet to end up right behind E-Terah
E’Terah focuses her energy on the goblin dog mimicking it’s animal savagery in an attempt present herself as the alpha pact leader.
The feral beast hears her throaty grown and sees the barred teeth. Feeling intimidated, it backs away from it’s intended victim much to the shocking distress of the goblin commando on it’s back. The commando screams out a horrid string of high pitched sounds that can only be goblin cursing so foul it would make a bugbear blush. Waving it’s horse chopper franticly the enraged goblin leans forward and lets fly a panicked stroke at the hunting dog before it’s out of range.
gob attack w/ horsechopper 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Slicing off a swath of fur, the goblin scream out again as it realizes it missed killing the dog by literly a hairs breath.
He then, for some unknown reason, jump off the goblin dog to face the longshanks hound on foot while his mound backs off.
Alaren looks at the situation then to E-Terah as the Goblin Dog backs away. The Goblin commando curses and Alaren blushes at the curse.
She pulls back the sting on her longbow and takes aim at the goblin. She takes a deep breath and release the arrow and breath at the same time.
Bow Attack 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16, Damage1d8 ⇒ 8
After releasing the arrow she looks around for any other Goblins.
perception check 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19
Haley runs down the burned and scattered streets of Sandpoint following the sounds of battle. As the air fills her lungs and the sun beats down on her skin she has a small revelation.
She is truly alive! Even as she runs towards her potential death she has never felt more alive.
Nothing would ever be the same again after today. Nothing.
Haley spends her turn running towards the combat
The she-dwarf continued forward in a waddling charge,lifting her crossbow once more at the goblin dog's furious rider.20ft move up to 22i.
She paused to cast the golden glow of Guidance once more,tapping her brow with a finger.Cast Guidance.
Alaren arrives and kneels behind E’Terah quickly taking in the scene. Instinctively she levels her bow and looses an arrow. With the whisper of a tight recurve releasing energy concurrent with her controlled exhale of breath the arrow flies straight.
In one fluid motion the arrow cuts through the goblins leg like a surgical scalpel. Stopped only by penetrating deep into the femur the arrow would have sailed completely through to the fletching or perhaps out the other side completely.
A shriek like wounded hyena, only worse, emits from the creature. Cuss words so foul and so random that not even sentences or thoughts are conveyed. Curse words for their own sake. Even in the primitive goblin language these obscenities are considered repugnant.
The normally green goblin, now turning a mottled grayish complexion, reaches down and in an act that would make most citizens turn away, breaks the shaft off leaving the metal projectile inside a wound spewing clouds of red mist from it’s body.
Even more incredible to see is the uncharacteristic disregard of fear brought on by canine breads as it limps between it’s mount and the hunting hound. Raising the horsechopper, it brings down a vengeful blow at the hound.
attack1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18, damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
The dog is dropped. Head nearly separated and held to the body by only a few stringy sinews. Dark blood polls onto the sandy ground.
The goblin places one leg, as best he can, on top of the dogs corpse. THERE! There you @#%#$ cowarding sons of %!*^ing %*#$’s.
I kilt tha’ ^%$%^ing dog’a’sess. Come out’a hiding or i’ll cut off your *#!$ing %^*&#’s myself and fead them to a horse.
The man in noble garb shakes visibly and is trying to get your attention without bringing the gobs down on himself. His composure fails and he shouts out HELP! PLEASE. Help me!. He's begins waving his feather plumed velour hat so you can spot him better.
Slowly three goblins squirm their way out of the pile of crates that held many of the days festive decorations. Seeing the dog is really dead, they begin to regain their composure and ready their weapons. Then the spot the longshanks watching them . . .
Gobs used the full round getting their composure.
Alaren smiles as her arrow hits the Goblin in the leg. However she flinches as the Goblin Commando kills the dog.
As she does her quick inspection of the area to ensure they are not being ambushed she sees three more goblins hiding amongst the creates. She notices that Diarkal and Haley have joined them and points out the Goblins to them.
Four Goblins and a Goblin Dog she says to Haley and Diarkal as they join them. Knowing E-Terah can not understand she does not worry about addressing her at this time. Arlean also does not want to interrupt E-Terah's connection with the Goblin Dog.
Hoping to make quick work of the situation by dispatching the obvious leader Alaren again notches an arrow and focuses on her target. She tracks the Goblin Commando, whom she has already wounded, as she takes another deep breath. She releases the arrow and her breath again in unison.
Bow Attack 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11, Damage1d8 ⇒ 4
Alaren curses in Goblin after she watches her arrow miss the Goblin leader.
She takes another arrow out of her quiver and steps forward, standing next to E-Terah.
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26Intimidating!!
Furious at the dog's grisly kill,the she-dwarf let out an enraged bellow not unlike a furious cow. Her curse made her voice echo and rumble like the thunder of an oncoming landslide. It tore through the smoke filled dusk like a ominous tolling bell.
Hey DM,shouldn't I be 20 ft closer? I thought I confirmed stepping up.
She glared with all the menace she could muster,leveling her honeyed gaze upon the milling goblins before her. She jabbed a gloved hand at them,closing it until her knuckles crackled like gravel underfoot with a burst of magic.Her aura,a distortion of heat and palpable dread that formed into the flickering visage of a mastiff that stood over her,swept outwards.
Cast Doom.DC 13 Will Save or be frightened.Man, I really tried to save that dog.:(
Hey DM,shouldn't I be 20 ft closer? I thought I confirmed stepping up.
Absolutely. My bad for missing a detail.
Man, I really tried to save that dog.:(
Yea. I was thinking the dog would live as well if the commando missed on his turn (Expecting him to be killed by a PC this round). He had to try however, since that is the only way he can see getting his troops out of hiding. Now let's see if you can save the pooch's master!
Dair moves in closer, ready to attack if the goblins move any closer. He pulls out an odd tr-bladed weapon from the small of his back. Moving to M22
Readying an action. Check.Please give us an attack and damage roll in advance. That way we have your rolls if your attack is triggered by an approaching goblin.
Haley arrived just as the large cleaver of the blade thacked' down into the meat of the dog's neck. While she had heard the sounds of pain and suffering all around her during the goblin's attack, this was the first time she had seen life so mercilessly taken by the monsters. And they seemed happy for it..giddy from the kill. Gods on high, they were inspired by it! Several more came lurking from the shadows..
The blood that ran from the unfortunate animal smeared across the concrete, and in a terrible way it reminded her of the steak of white paint she and her father used as a target back home.
She lifted the small crossbow, her hands warm against the smooth polished grip, and moved up to support her friends.
Haley moves to K24
In her mind she quickly ran through the art of the crossbow. The leather strap of the quiver ran diagonally between her breasts and curved around her hip snugly. It had to be secure when you fired or it could throw the whole shot off. Now for the hard part. With a gritting of white teeth and a tightening of slender muscles, Haley forced the arms and cord back and locked the pin in place. Setting even a few of the bolts in a row exhausted her and left her dizzy from the effort. But it was in there.
She lifted it. White Streak. Aimed at the murdering goblin still wielding his gory weapon. Red Streak. She took in a deep breath. White Streak. The Breeze was still for but a moment. Red Streak. Squeeze the trigger, don't pull it Haley. White Streak. Just imagine the bolt is fire and its rushing from your fingertips..Red Streak..
Haley fires at the Commando Leader
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
Help! Please! Help me!
The man's pained voice was unexpected and she flinched as the bolt went wide. Tilting her gaze to him she locked eyes with the handsome noblemen. The attack, the goblins, the dog, the pain...all of it was suddenly symbolized in this stranger's peril. She would do everything in her power to save him as though his safety meant Sandpoint's safety.
We will! We will save you! She promised in that easy way the young and the naive promise.
As Alaren’s arrow flies wide of it’s target E’Terah advances closer to the action.
The sound emanating from the she-dwarf is frightening to the ears of her fellow adventurers. To the large rodent goblins oddly refer to as dog, it is the intense cry of an alpha pact leader. Being put in it place by it’s new master the dog cowers down against the pile of create. Head bowed and whining submissively.
The fearless halfing entertainer, now caught up in a battle to defend his township, bravely moves up to display a literal line in the sand the goblins can not cross. He produce a weapon and stands ready.
Haley moves up to take a rear point in the blockade of sandy road leading into the heart of the town. Determined to take down the leader, she envisions the training for her crossbow and lets loose a bolt. It lands wide. The insane commando lives.
The three goblins are frazzled, tired and overstimulated by the attack on Sandpoint followed by a close encounter with one of their most feared taboos, a canine, and now their leader is irate and more attackers show up. Oy! The gob brain just cant handle the pressure.
They start running about, spinning, slashing and yelling. Choosing action seemingly at random.
9-smash a crate
gob 1 1d10 ⇒ 4
gob 2 1d10 ⇒ 9
gob 3 1d10 ⇒ 3
The western most goblin c19 makes a bee line for Alaren, the bow caster the attacked his leader. Doing so he blindly leaves himself open to attacks by E’Terah and Haley as he runs by.
Attack of opportunity by E’Terah and Haley on running gob.
The center goblin m17, runs franticly ending up in the exact spot he started. He begins smashing crates in pure frustration.
The eastern most goblin r16 makes a run for Haley. Obviously he is enamored by her beauty and want to make first contact as a goblin ambassador. Or he lost his damn mind. Hard to tell with gobbies most times.
The goblin commando, determined to survive, reaches into his bag stuff. Tossing out bits of decaying rat jerky, bird heads, rocks and shinny scrap metal he produces a vile vial. Popping the wax seal with his jagged yellow thumbnail he downs the blue liquid inside.
cure moderate wounds 2d8 ⇒ (6, 1) = 7
He stands up a bit straighter now and seems more focused as he glares at his troops running about.
Killz th' longshanks, damn your green hides!
The noble cries out What's happening!? Can anyone help me!? I'm going to die! Help! Help!
Arg. Forgot E'Terah's doom spell.
Gob 1 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5
Gob 2 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (15) - 1 = 14
Gob 3 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0
Gob commander 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (16) - 1 = 15
Same as above except the west and east gob are screaming wildly and have no weapons drawn. They just seem to be running obvilious of the adventures around them.
Alaren watches the Goblins run around in chaos. She watches for an opportunity to hit the Goblin Commando again and take him down, she takes another arrow from her quiver and random thoughts pop thru her head as she notches the arrow,
A slient prayer to Densa for her new compains to suvive the night. Need to pick up a larger quiver and more arrows. Must devote more time for archery practice. Damn goblins ........
She takes a deep breath silencing her mind, and again focuses on the Goblin barking orders. He drinks the healing potion and she watches as the blood spurting from his leg becomes a trickle.
She releases the arrow....
Bow Attack 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6, Damage1d8 ⇒ 4
She then drops the bow at her feet, pulls out her sword and prepares to defend herself against the insane Goblin running towards her.
E-Terah gave a satisfied grunt at the goblins dog's utter submission as it dropped to his belly and prostated itself with a squeak. She would be using the wretched thing to track the goblins back to their lair once this foolishness was done.
Once her spell and vocalizing had sounded,two of the goblins stood somewhat firm in the face of it while the rest burst into bouts of frightened activity. One ignored everything around it to start tearing apart crates with its knobby fists. The one from the west came streaking past in a blur chattering teeth on its way towards the tattooed girl--putting it in reach.
She clenched her free hand and a coating of thick hissing salt gathered in her gloved palm as the goblin came. The she-dwarf backhanded it in passing,feeling her hand connect and the sizzle of acidic salt eating away dirty green skin before turning her attention back to the obvious threat--the commando. If she could drop it and stabilize it before it slipped away into Pharsama's Graveyard,she might be able to get some productive answers.
1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 + 1 = 18+Hate AoO attackHit
1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4Touch of Acid,betcha!!!
The she-dwarf flicked the acidic coating of salt from her off-hand and took hold of her crossbow once more to fire at the frustrated goblin commando as he flails about in a screaming fit trying to direct his underlings without success.
Despite her curse deafening her to any words save Terran,she clearly heard the cowering man as he waved his plumed hat at them to get attention. It filtered through her senses as a frantic pleading that was starting to annoy her. Nobles were useless! Still,he was a person and she'd do her best to save him.
The tingling glow of Guidance left her as she applied it to the crossbolt. A squeeze of the trigger sent it darting at the goblin. Much to her seething frustration,it raised its bloodied horsechopper and blocked it! The bolt stuck out the haft of the polearm.
1d20 + 1 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 + 1 + 1 = 6
1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
It seemed more surprised than she did and cavorted with vicious glee,taunting her.
She put her crossbow away,slinging it up and over her shoulder to attach to her backpack. She took out her maulaxe once more,whetstone honed edge glistening as she took a step toward her target.
5ft step forward.End turn.Shield of Faith active for four more rounds. Can I make the goblin-rat attack with a Handle Animal check?
Attack of Opportunity
1d20 - 2 ⇒ (13) - 2 = 11
As the goblin wildly ran past, frantic and unpredictable, Haley flung her arm out to try and keep the goblin at bay. Weaponless, she had no hope of truly protecting herself, but the gesture was more out of instinct than any sort of training.
But she wasn't weaponless..
The tips of her painted nails had changed. Not only had they changed in color, taking on the hue of black polished horn, they had grown two inches and length and they looked razor sharp. Haley blinked, momentarily stunned by the small transformation. She had talons!
What is happening to me.. She muttered to herself.
The voice inside of her..the one that had gifted her the fire and had so cruelly taken it away..rumbled in her heart.
Child, you carry my blood in you. It spoke to her and her alone.
The nobleman called out again and snapped her out of the haze of the strange internal interaction.
When she glanced back down at her hand, the claws were gone.
E-Terah's powerful magics were hissing and grumbling about the area.
Alaren's arrows stung like wasps and the whisper of her blade being drawn from her sheath spoke of pain to come.
Dairkal's boldness combined with his quick and brutal blade promised retribution to the goblins as he glared at them eye-to-eye.
But Haley..well, she was just a girl. A girl with a crossbow that fired at ships that had already died. What place did she have here?
Do what you can with what you have, Haley.. She said under her breath. Another of her father's little moral one-liners. Well ok then.
Haley ran! Right through the fleeing goblins and out wide, being sure to avoid the commando and his dog at all cost. She ended her sprint next to the nobleman extending her hand to him.
Haley double moves to G16.
Come on! Let's find a new place to hide.. She gave him a determined and reassuring smile.
Do what you can with what you have. She was going to get this poor man to safety. Perhaps Ameiko had some room in the Rusty Dragon and a bit more of that mead.
Alaren lets fly another shaft, again tracking wide of her evasive target.
Dropping the bow she draws a slender blade and prepares for melee combat.
This same goblin had the luck of fools on it’s side today as one of E’Terah’s bolts lodged into it’s weapon and not it’s flesh. E’Terah continues to edge closer to the target.
Dairkal’s blade sings forth lodging in the goblins side that is running past him. With a startled squeal of pain he knows the blade has found it mark.
As a franticly frazzled fizzled goblin runs past E’Terah she openhandedly slaps him on the shoulder causing him to incline to a drastic angle hopping franticly on one foot to maintain his balance. As his equilibrium returns acrid smoke trails from his retreating back as the acid eats away garments and flesh.
As the smoldering shuttering shaken goblin ran past Haley Kindle he took no notice of her physical morphing or the swipe of sharpened obsidian nails as it went by. If it had, it surly would have left a wet trail in it’s wake.
E’Terah; You know the this animal is (loosely)combat trained and (loosly) under the command of it's master, Both those conditions would make your normal handle animal skills more difficult to accomplish. A DC20. However, sine you have masterfuly intimidated the animal (a nat 20 no less), you would gain back some favor. A DC 15 is needed to command it to attack it’s master.
The southern goblin j25 nearest Alaren flees with flying flaying fingers waving in the air. A shrill shrieking goblin cry penetrating all sensitive ears within range. It runs past Alaren heading south. By the look in it’s bulbous eyes this panicked effect will soon wear off. Worst of all, it's heading back into the heart of Sandpoint!
The goblin near Dairkal is struck with a starknife penetrating from it’s right side. Much like a wagon with a hobbled wheel, the goblin starts veering right during it’s hasty panicked attempt to flee the area.
The goblin smashing the crated gets board. Looking up he decides to do the first thing that pops into head.
9-smash a crate
gob 1 1d10 ⇒ 3
Wanting to attack the tattooed longshank fee-male it races to her (start of turn) position.
50% chance of running into the right turning goblin running around Dairkal.
<50=hit 1d100 ⇒ 57
Whew! barely avoiding a collision with his careening counterpart the former crate smashing goblin runs towards Haley only to be led on a foot race to follow her as she runs. This goblin is now making a wide right turn around E’Terah. double move run action
The goblin commando’s first instinct seeing all this chaos and advancing longshanks is to hop astride his mount and high-tail it to safety. Grabbing the slain dog’s head with a good yank to sever the remaining tissue, he takes his trophy and attempts to mount his ride. The goblins rat beast will not cooperate and simple lays hunkered against the crates whimpering. Gripping his horse chopper with both hands he raises it high above the cowering creatures neck. Not listens to me, your dontz! Me showz you wh *. A streaking figure of a longshanks followed by the nasty common language catches his attention. A longshanks fee-male is now with the longshank dog lover. They both must die!
Forgetting the disobedient mount the commando leaps onto the crates and barrels and works his way towards the longshanks. Horschopper at the ready!
Whew. What a craze zig-zag of goblin behavior this round is. Can't wait to see what happens next.
Alaren watches the chaos as the Goblins continue to run around. She is quickly loosing hope that she can help in any way other than randomly trying to hit a Goblin as it happens by. Her aim seems to be more than a bit off today and the Goblins seem to be hopped up on something and more chaotic than usual. She wonders what set them to attack an entire town once again. WHY?
Getting ready once again to move into the main part of the battle, she watches as a Goblin run past E'Terah and receives an acid slap. The she-Dwarf is certainly handy in a battle.
The Goblin continues running towards her. She knows that she must stop this Goblin or it will run back into the heart of Sandpoint. She steps into its path hoping to make him stop or at the very least a little easier to hit.
Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 Damage: 1d10 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Stupid random dice generate - it is so much more fun when I hit something. It is always fun DM - just more so when I smash the Goblin. :)
Alaren looks around to see what else can be used to distract the Goblin from running back towards the Temple or the rest of Sandpoint.
Perception check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15