Adakos, suddenly overcome with absolute terror in the face of the devil, drops his bow to the ground and runs away in fear.
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Since she had already revealed her background as magic user, there was no need for hiding anymore, chanting the arcane words louder that really necessary, she casts another spell, but this time, her target is the dwarf in from of her. ”Do you want me to make you bigger was well?” she asks after casting
Miro winces as a copy of himself bursts out of existence from the knight's attack. Biding for time as his companions handle the others, the halfling continues to sing as he swipes at the knight with his small sword, more to keep his attention than anything else.
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Roland's hammer smashed into the caster-knight, his forceful will piercing through the protective sanctuary spell.
Adakos is overcome with unnatural fear and flees for his life.
Catcher imbues Gromff with the strength of a bull, causing the dwarf to fill his full platemail to capacity.
Miro thrust his dagger but only manages to scrape the knight's mail which handily deflected the blow.
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The holy-caster knight brings his own hammer down onto the barbarian's shoulder in retribution. A flash of red energy fills the air when the hammer makes contact, causing a jolt of lawful energy damage.
The mists continue to be an obstacle for the mounted foes, causing several of their attacks, and those of their warhorses, to go awry. Though a horse's bite did manage to break skin on the half-sized bard.
After their attacks, the knights pull back somewhat.
The gathered militia are falling away, thankful for the respite provided by the powerful heroes engagement.
The winged female flies from the inn's porch, cackling with glee at her little trick against the ranger. Knowing that his friends were near and within the conjured mists, she flew to the nearby tent and hid behind a barren tree trunk.
Roland takes another hit, but does not falter! He strikes back as the lawfullly aligned dwarf tries to escape, and follow in pursuit immediately after. He was never one to let enemies flee...
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Walking out of the mist, maintaining her bracelet protection, the young mage walks until she is side by side with the barbarian, and attacks the knight trying to flee.
Level: 2
Initiation Action: 1 standard action
Range: Melee attack
Target: One creature
Duration: Instant
By specifically targeting a victim’s most vulnerable areas, the disciple is capable of rending arterial injuries upon his foe. The initiator initiating this maneuver inflicts an additional 2d6 points of damage upon a successful melee attack, and his victim gains the bleeding condition suffering 1d3 points of damage per round until the application of any spell or effect that cures hit point damage or someone staunches the blood with a DC 15 Heal check.
Absorbing the damage stoically, Miro continues to sing along as he dances around the mounted knight, keeping his attention on the bard as he stabs forward again.
Round 4
Round 5
[ooc]Drop Sacred Weapon for the spell then use a swift to bring it back in round 4. Fervor Round 5 as a swift to heal.
AoO
Taking advantage of the awkward movement of the horsemen as they pull away, Gromff and Roland's weapons strike true. Gromff's adamantine morningstar knocks Knight #3 from his horse while Roland's maul dismounts the caster-knight, sending him to the mud in disgrace. Neither of the foes appear to be conscious.
Though the hand-to-hand accuracy of the bard left something to be desired, his presence and lusty song of victory turned his capable companions into machines of war.
Rounding out the victorious moment was the young mage and her mighty sword, slicing a large chunk of flesh from Knight #4's body, likewise sending him into a plummet from his saddle.
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With his mounted brothers face down in the bloody mud and the wicked winged companion nowhere in sight, the remaining knight decides it is better to live and fight another day. "You wretches, I will see you brought to heel!"
The man pulls back on the reins and turns his warhorse eastward. His retreat marked what appeared to be the end of this conflict, though there was still the matter of the winged-archer woman...
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Everyone,
Assessing the scene you see Adakos, fleet of foot, disappear into a copse of trees. None of you have any idea what would cause the ranger to flee with such gusto, especially considering how mighty a combatant he is when he puts his bow to work.
There is absolutely no sign of the winged woman. Not in the air, not on the inn's porch, -- nowhere.
The knights in the mud are all still alive, you discover. The lot of them are unconscious but very much alive. Your blows were devastating, so without attention they will likely bleed to death.
Their horses mill about in the relative vicinity, some farther away than others.
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Adakos,
After over a full minute of sprinting you snap out of the evil charm that the devil put on you. You see the false-fear for what it was. You ran quite a ways up into the foothills of the mountain range and are currently in what would be dense wood if not for the lack of foliage on the gray trunks and branches. The tent-city and 2-story Greenshingles inn of Archdale are not visible from this deep in the woods.
As you catch your breath your rapid exhalations fog in the frigid air. A numb pain in your feet suddenly makes you aware that your socks are wet -- in your fear you likely stepped in a puddle something similar...which strikes you as odd considering the snow and ice that stretch as far as the eye can see.
As you turn to make your way back toward the melee and your friends, your sharp eyes catch two pairs of eyes looking at you from behind a natural hedgerow of stout evergreen trees. They're mostly concealed but one is man-sized, wearing an emerald robe and has stark ebony-colored skin. The second figure is small, possibly a child or halfling, wearing a fur cloak.
Roland has eyes only for the fallen knight. He couldn't understand how some people were so stupid. Actually, he could but he wasn't trying hard enough. He looks around for a new target, but if he finds none he drops out of fury, but this time he does not sit. They were still in hostile territory.
"Where's the archer?"
Frustrated at himself and the tricks of the foul flying woman, Adakos gasps for breath as he mutters to himself. Spotting the concealed figures, the ranger does the only thing he can do and draws his dagger, holding it out defensively in front of him. Not sure what to make of someone with ebony skin, he figures both of them for foes, scouts, or the like. "If you want this hide you are going to have to earn it!", he calls to the concealed pair between labored breaths, "Or do you have more tricks like your she-devil friend?" Surprised by his sudden outburst of defiance, the half-elf gulps, ready to accept his fate. If only his feet weren't so wet. Dying with wet feet is not something a man should have to do.
Miro grins as the remaining horseman turns and flees, rasping out his hollow threat. The bard breathes a sigh of relief that he has such capable companions, having trusted in that fact when he jumped in the melee. He turns to the others, "Well done, friends! An astounding victory for our side and the cause of righteousness."
He then looks around, "Where'd Adakos run off to?"
Gromff stabilizes the least wounded and brings him around to have a little chat. The opening bargain: "Tell me what's goin on and yer friends may not die. The longer ye hem and haw the worse their condition'll get. Why are ye working with devils? What in the name o Moradin's beard is goin on here?"
Since no one actually answered his question, and furthermore Miro asked his own, he answers him while raising his breaker over his head, to bring it down on the priest, granting him mercy. "I have no idea." He listens to the dwarf promising to spare the man's friends, and lets his weapon rest on his shoulder for now, but he's not in a good mood after not killing the winged devil.
Plus, they were in the middle of the enemy camp, and the cleric is asking questions instead of healing them. Of course they could use some information about what's going on, but it could wait a little, couldn't it?
Roland moves inside the small Inn or whatever that was, to check who or what was inside.
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”He fled.” she says simply answering Roland ”When we needed him most to take out that winged woman, he fled and didn’t even cared about us. I knew there was something wrong with him. It’s was just that much coincidence. Appearing when we had a hard battle, and now, fleeing when we just spilled all our secrets to him. Happy now? Mrs I’ll-tell-him-everything-Roland?” she says in a disapproving manner. Being here again made her specially angry, because it was Roland’s fault they left Aersensi behind, and if something happened to her, ah, the Barbarian would pay a dear price.
Walking down to the fallen enemies, she takes the officers tabard and puts it over her clothes. If she could, she would write “Wizard” on it, but she lacked the means. That would have to a future project.
She scans the riders and horses for magic things and whatever can be used to help them in their fight.
She pockets the potion. Roland had his bestial fury to help. Gromff could always count with this god's blessing. Catcher? She needed to count with her own str and luck, which was exactly what the potion provided.
”Those two wands here, one makes any weapon magical for a short time, minutes. The other one is has the same magic I just used in Gromff, to make someone else stronger.” she handles both to Miro as she continues ”They are all using magic armor, which I think gromff my like, if he can use one, I would like one as well if we can spare. Other than that, the morning star has a powerful magic aura, but I don’t have time now to say what it is.” after that, she heads to the Inn, where they last meet the fallen and the priest, and entrusted them to care for the girl.
Miro will help to stabilize those knights that are currently wounded, even going so far as to expend a minor curative magic to ensure their survival. Mercy was one thing that separated them from the devils, after all.
Miro will help to stabilize those knights that are currently wounded, even going so far as to expend a minor curative magic to ensure their survival. Mercy was one thing that separated them from the devils, after all.
Gromff stabilizes the least wounded and brings him around to have a little chat. The opening bargain: "Tell me what's goin on and yer friends may not die. The longer ye hem and haw the worse their condition'll get. Why are ye working with devils? What in the name o Moradin's beard is goin on here?"
Gromff stops one of the knights from bleeding to death, then moments later Miro pulls out a healing wand to heal a portion of the deadly wounds. After a dose of healing magic the fallen knight's eyes open, conscious once again. He looks alarmed then realizes he's surrounded by capable foes, then settles himself. When the surly dwarf barked questions in his face, the soldier grew a look of defiance.
"I have no love for the devils sir, but they are aligned with our patron for the greater good. There has always been good and evil in the world so their presence changes nothing. Fighting them only brings death. Xavius was foolish to taunt them with this consortium of factions." He pauses for a moment, then says "I only follow orders, dwarf."
Roland moves inside the small Inn or whatever that was, to check who or what was inside.
The barbarian enters the Greenshingles and finds a sad scene -- several bodies lie in various positions -- one lay face down at the table where he was killed, another lay against the bar with a gaping stab in his chest, yet another hangs upon the wall like some sort of grotesque bit of decor, pinned by 4 black arrow shafts.
A quick inspection finds the upstairs bereft of the living (yet not of the dead), but thankfully 2 were found alive and well hiding behind a large keg in the storeroom basement. They are filled with terror at the sight of the mighty blood-spattered barbarian.
"AAhh!! Please! Take me, and let her live!" The older man bodily shields a teenage girl, each of them wear aprons dirty with ale and cooking grease.
Not sure what to make of someone with ebony skin, he figures both of them for foes, scouts, or the like. "If you want this hide you are going to have to earn it!", he calls to the concealed pair between labored breaths, "Or do you have more tricks like your she-devil friend?" Surprised by his sudden outburst of defiance, the half-elf gulps, ready to accept his fate. If only his feet weren't so wet. Dying with wet feet is not something a man should have to do.
"Lower your voice! Come closer." said the black man in a harsh yet clear breathy whisper.
The man remains crouched behind the hedgerow and looks back and forth between the ranger and the small figure near him.
Taking heed of the man's caution, Adakos moved quietly toward the pair and joined them in their hidden position. With a closer look the ranger sees that the small one is an elf child with hair seemingly spun of gold and silver, her innocent eyes filled with fright. Her companion's fine emerald robes are mud spattered from their apparent flight into the wilderness.
"I warn you now, I will protect this child with my life so make no false moves. I do not believe you to be an enemy, however. We were pursued by Silvermane soldiers, though I may have dispatched the lot of them."
"I don't believe we have met and I don't recall seeing you in Archdale. I am called Littledragon. Which faction are you with?"
"Bah," Gromff says slapping the man hard. "Devil's'er evil. It's their nature. They have no choice. There is no greater good to be had with'em. And they'll say anything ta make ye think otherwise. Yer a fool. Who's orders where they?"
"Bah," Gromff says slapping the man hard. "Devil's'er evil. It's their nature. They have no choice. There is no greater good to be had with'em. And they'll say anything ta make ye think otherwise. Yer a fool. Who's orders where they?"
He wiped the new blood from his busted lip, still reddened from the dwarf's gauntlet. "Montblanc, he's our sergeant," he motions to the fallen knight nearby, his magical warhammer a few feet from his motionless empty hand, "And Montblanc answers to his superiors as well. Please understand dwarf of Moradin, your righteousness will get you and your friends killed. You cannot beat these enemies. Join with us. We could use you in this fight. Cast aside the faith you hold in your weak god and worship the Lorekeeper. Your soul will thank you, and so will your friends."
Roland heard only the beginning of Catcher's comments. He extends a hand towards her, opening and closing his fingers, clearly telling her to talk to the hand. He kept moving until he was inside the Inn, where after presuming the flying devil was responsible, he found the couple hidden. "I'm not gonna hurt you, fool. Now tell me what happened here, and be quick about it." He doesn't look friendly, but he puts away his Earthbreaker.
Gromff gives the man a look that could erode rock in seconds. "Did ye really just tell a dwarf ta give up on his faith? Ta jump sides? Ta wilt in the face o adversity? We got a sayin. Use yer pick , yer fist, and yer head till they break. Order is personal preference. And I ain't broke." He hauls the man to his feet with magically empowered strength. "We can win this fight. The Harbingers, the spear, the hags. They're all true and out there. Seen it. Felt it from me own god. If yer's was stronger ye might have seen it too. We can still win this but as long as people on our side keep gettin in the way, keep listenin ta the poisonous words o the enemy, chance gets less and less." He takes a step back, sighing as he shakes his head. "What could the devil's possibly offer ye ta help?. Ye really believe they'll even deliver?"
"I'm not gonna hurt you, fool. Now tell me what happened here, and be quick about it." He doesn't look friendly, but he puts away his Earthbreaker.
The man is wide-eyed and stares at the massive hammer. He stutters at first but tells his story, "I...uh...I, I don't know for certain. M..m..my daughter and I," he nods toward the girl, "were in the kitchen preparing the day's meals when we heard violence burst out from the inn proper. I grabbed her arm and we ran from the kitchen down here. We could hear cries of pain through the flooring... please, what's happened?"
The man's words bear no guile or deception. He is clearly frightened.
He hauls the man to his feet with magically empowered strength. "We can win this fight. The Harbingers, the spear, the hags. They're all true and out there. Seen it. Felt it from me own god. If yer's was stronger ye might have seen it too. We can still win this but as long as people on our side keep gettin in the way, keep listenin ta the poisonous words o the enemy, chance gets less and less." He takes a step back, sighing as he shakes his head. "What could the devil's possibly offer ye ta help?. Ye really believe they'll even deliver?"
The knight's resolve seems to wither under the dwarf's words. His eyes well up and show resignation and fear. On the verge of tears he says "I am a knight and I follow my orders. I believe in the Silvermane!"
He seems to be trying to convince himself more than his interrogator.
The surly dwarf's sighs. Just following orders. Lot of evil has been done with that as the excuse over the years. "Right. Catcher, take the weapons. Miro, get that one up," he says pointing at the one the knight called his superior. "Find out what happened and where the commander is. We need ta break this attack." He looks at the knight before him. "We'll keep yer friends alive. Least ye deserve is a fair trail. What the sentence is ain't up ta me though."
"Lower your voice! Come closer." said the black man in a harsh yet clear breathy whisper.
The man remains crouched behind the hedgerow and looks back and forth between the ranger and the small figure near him.
Taking heed of the man's caution, Adakos moved quietly toward the pair and joined them in their hidden position. With a closer look the ranger sees that the small one is an elf child with hair seemingly spun of gold and silver, her innocent eyes filled with fright. Her companion's fine emerald robes are mud spattered from their apparent flight into the wilderness.
"I warn you now, I will protect this child with my life so make no false moves. I do not believe you to be an enemy, however. We were pursued by Silvermane soldiers, though I may have dispatched the lot of them."
"I don't believe we have met and I don't...
Realizing that the man might not be after his hide after all, Adakos calms a bit, and relaxes even further upon seeing the child for what she is. Surely they were caught up in this fight as well, and just sought safety out here. The ranger lowers his dagger as he ducks into cover, taking the man's advice and getting out of plain sight. "Vedui' ai er, naa lle eithel?" he says to the girl, trying to confirm that she is not being held against her will.
"Greetings little one, are you well?"
Sizing the man up for a moment and determining from his robes that he's obviously not a soldier in the attacking army, Adakos nods to the man, acknowledging his words. His eyes travel to the talisman where they stop for a moment, pieces falling into place. "My name is Adakos, and I'm with no faction, only one person trying to help. Littledragon, interesting name. We just ran into Bigdragon, hopefully she was not a relation of yours." His composure gathering with each word, the half-elf continues, "We arrived from afar, my companions and I, and saw the people of this place were set upon by a devilish creature and men on horse. We joined in the fight, hoping to turn away the attackers. I had just set upon the flying abomination when she worked her devil trickery on my mind and sent me running to this place. I fear I failed them."
He looks at the man's eyes for a second. "Hell happened, but we're here to fix that. Don't let the girl go upstairs and see what's in there." He turns his back to them, since there is nothing to do inside this place, as far as he knows, and climbs the stairs to get out of there. "You should wait for some time before going out too. It would be safer." Then he moves out of the Inn to meet the others.
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For once, Catcher do as told and goes about collecting magic weapons and armors and putting it all in the slor-Magic bags.
When the barbarian returns she asks trying to remain calm: "Any sign of her?"
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"There is a girl and a man there, but it's not her, nor an enemy." He returns briefly, scanning around the battlefield for any sign of incomers, they were taking too long. "I think we should get patched up if we're gonna move forward. Are you gonna do it or do you prefer I convince this enemy cleric to do the trick?" He asks Gromff.
Miro nods grimly to Gromff, rousing the one indicated as Montblanc after a bit of curative magic. He holds his short sword at the ready, not exactly in an aggressive posture, but brandished in a way to make sure the knight understood he would be skewered if he tried anything. Once the man is up, Miro speaks in a kindly voice, "Montblanc...terrible tidings, to see the Silvermane fight on the side of devils. I would believe you bewitched, but your man has already admitted the truth. From whence did these orders come? Who commanded this treachery?"
Miro nods grimly to Gromff, rousing the one indicated as Montblanc after a bit of curative magic. He holds his short sword at the ready, not exactly in an aggressive posture, but brandished in a way to make sure the knight understood he would be skewered if he tried anything. Once the man is up, Miro speaks in a kindly voice, "Montblanc...terrible tidings, to see the Silvermane fight on the side of devils. I would believe you bewitched, but your man has already admitted the truth. From whence did these orders come? Who commanded this treachery?"
The man named Montblanc sat up after receiving the healing magic. He looked at Miro sternly, his eyes lingering for a moment on the blade pointed at his throat. "Sir, your words are respectful. I will respectfully reply that I owe you no explanation, as you are my enemy. What will you do with my men and me?"
Roland gets in the middle of their conversation, putting some doubts to rest. "Execute you like the evildoer you are. Consorting with devils, rebelling against an organized human defense, slaughtering people inside an Inn like THEY WERE CATTLE!!" His tone raises until he's screaming. "You're sooooo dead." He says this while drawing his weapon and climbing down the stairs of the Inn's entrance. [b]" His steps are heavy and his demeanor show the proper anger a good guy would after seeing the scene inside the building. He raises his hand weapon to finish the cleric, both as revenge and to force the others to be smarter and tell them their secrets.
Nothing other than some companion getting in front of him will stop the barbarian, and knowing how he is, it's unlikely anyone would dare.
"Vedui' ai er, naa lle eithel?" he says to the girl, trying to confirm that she is not being held against her will.
The child looks into the ranger's eyes. She appears ashamed by what she is about to say, "Golly mister, I can't speak elvish."
Sizing the man up for a moment and determining from his robes that he's obviously not a soldier in the attacking army, Adakos nods to the man, acknowledging his words. His eyes travel to the talisman where they stop for a moment, pieces falling into place. "My name is Adakos, and I'm with no faction, only one person trying to help. Littledragon, interesting name. We just ran into Bigdragon, hopefully she was not a relation of yours." His composure gathering with each word, the half-elf continues, "We arrived from afar, my companions and I, and saw the people of this place were set upon by a devilish creature and men on horse. We joined in the fight, hoping to turn away the attackers. I had just set upon the flying abomination when she worked her devil trickery on my mind and sent me running to this place. I fear I failed them."
The robed man replies, "No relation I can assure you. My name was given to me in jest, as an irony. I wear it now as a tribute to my liege, my lord, my god -- Battleborn. It is said that he had a wonderful sense of humor!"
Gengis Battleborn was not only one of the most powerful archmages in history and the founder of Mylosis, but he was also known as a prolific dragon slayer.
Being an acolyte of Battleborn and being called something associated with dragons (Littledragon) would be a bit of a mockery.
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"You failed no one. Magic -- especially the foul magic of evil -- can be a tricky foe and one that you cannot control. You mustn't blame yourself for your flight.
Well here we are. What to do now? I have no intention of bringing the child back to Archdale, at least until those blasted Silvermane have been driven off. What will you do? Your friends will surely come after you, right?"
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She didn't care about the guy about to be killed. He deserved dead for what he did. However, but this merry wanna-be-world-saviors-group didn't had the right to judge or execute the helpless prisoner.
As the barbarian walks near the Moteblanc Catcher blocks his path, because it is the correct thing to do and to piss him off "Stop Roland. We aren't judges or executioners. The man did wrong, he was defeated. If we had killed him in combat it was all good. We don't go executing defenseless people for sake of proving your big ego."
Roland gets enraged and brings his heavy hammer down on Catcher, releasing all the anger he has been accumulating against the wizard!
The barbarian knew the stupid woman would get in the way. He was prepared for that moment. "I tried to spare you of the suffering, wizard. There is a body pinned against the wall with black arrow shafts coming out of it. I think you will understand my anger when you see who's the little girl there..."
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It takes some seconds until Catcher can fully accept what Roland said. Of course she understood what he meant, but she didn’t wanted to believe.
With no warning, the young woman turns in her heels, bringing down the magic enhanced great sword in the prisoner’s head, putting everything in she has in the attack.
Level: 2
Initiation Action: 1 swift action
Range: Personal
Target: You
Duration: Instant
A disciple of the Scarlet Throne learns that in moments of precise focus, a single stroke of the blade can fell a potent enemy. For a single attack, the disciple may add a +2 insight bonus to his attack roll and +1d8 insight bonus to damage rolls on a single melee attack made during this turn.
Without stopping to look at the result, the wizard runs inside the inn, dreading what she might find.
For a moment Roland thinks about writing his evil deed in the Imp's diary, the one with which they found the necklace Chezarion took as his own. Of course, killing the knight was not really an evil act, since he would have died either way, be it by his hand or the wizard's, but having the girl solve the problem and be fooled at the same time was priceless. Too funny to bear. While she goes inside to check a body that wasn't really who she thought it was, he steps up to the next one, raising his hammer. "I don't suppose you have any information worth sparing your life, right?"
The child looks into the ranger's eyes. She appears ashamed by what she is about to say, "Golly mister, I can't speak elvish."
Smiling at the child the half-elf says, "Well that is something we shall have to remedy, isn't it?"
"Well here we are. What to do now? I have no intention of bringing the child back to Archdale, at least until those blasted Silvermane have been driven off. What will you do? Your friends will surely come after you, right?"
"Honestly, I do not know. The battle was still raging on when I was ensorcelled by the thrice damned devil. I have faith that things are under control, but no assurances." the man says, worrying about the creature with the wings and arrows, and knowing how something like that might cause a problem for the others. "Perhaps I should head back, see what has transpired. If you wish to remain in hiding I understand of course. Or you could join me for a closer look, but we must make haste if so."