The door opens into a circular cave, 30 feet in diameter. A collection of crude goblin beds and meal remnants are strewn about the cave. The cave overlooks the Varisian Bay, and the mouth of cave slopes down to a narrow beach.
The tunnel curves for 150 feet before you have to make another decision. On the right wall, an opening to a cave appears, while straight ahead is another fork in the tunnel.
Lona is a left-to-right kinda gal, and would opt to go left. However, she senses there are some rather strong-willed men leading the group around. So, instead, she busies herself searching for traps as they move along.
I'll check in the cave to the right.
Perception 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
I won't go in further than a few steps unless there's something of interest.
As Lona begins taking her first steps to the left, she sees Markum move to the right. Why am I not surprised, Lona thought to herself with a sigh and a shake of her head. She gestures for Lym to follow her as she heads over in Markum's direction so that they can investigate the cave together.
Varg and Lym are surprised. Everyone else can make a move action or standard action. Vuvo needs to make a DC 14 Perception check, too, to act in the surprise round.
Round 1:
Praxim quickly slips an arrow out of his quiver and lets it fly from his bow at the creature.
Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21; damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
"Perhaps we'd be better served to have the creature come to us, where there is more...ah, nevermind," Lona calls out. With only one ally in the way, and Markum at that, Lona decides to let the arrow fly anyway.
Praxim hits the creature in the side of its ribcage, and Markum approaches to face it head on. Lona's attack misses, while the creature opens its jaws wide and bites down on Markum's shoulder, ripping the meat off his shoulder (5 dmg, make a DC 12 Will save).
"Sagitta, omne errore vacua, vole!" Lym chants. A dart of force shoots out of her hand, zips between the other members of the group and grounds itself in the creature's ribcage.
One Force dart (or whatever they're called again). Automatic hit to the tune of 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 force damage.
With the group crowding the creature and blocking her path, Lona contents herself guarding their back and keeping an eye on the fight, lest another hostile creature comes upon them unawares.
Lona pats the backs of the burly men of the party as she congratulates them on a job well done, and proceeds to do a thorough search of the body and the room for traps and goodies.