You're able to haul the four bodies out from the smoky room as Elrik collects supplies -- unfortunately, you quickly realize none of the four is breathing, all apparently having succumbs to the smoke.
As he began gathering supplies, Elrik did his best to ignore the stinging, cloying smoke in his eyes and concentrate on moving quickly. The weapons went first and were easiest, bundling them up by their hafts and scabbards and shoving them roughly into the nearby backpack, followed by the other useful odds and ends behind the shop counter. Slinging one of the shoulder straps awkwardly over his shoulder next to his own satchel of supplies, he searched quickly and took up a handful of sacks the shopkeep must have used for customers. Quickly shifting around the room, his lungs starting to feel the strain of holding in the air while rushing about, Elrik quickly scooped shelves of foodstuffs and other useful items into the sacks, tying them off roughly and slinging them towards the open window.
As his lungs began to scream at him, and the smoke billowed thick and dark, Elrik dodged a falling beam in a shower of sparks and decided it was time to leave - only to notice the half-broken floorboard and the gleaming metal below. Taking a chance, he scrambled back and hauled out a finely crafted buckler with a strange symbol emblazoned across the front that he couldn't recognize. Clutching the small shield in one hand, he ducked below the growing fire and smoke to the window and, quickly and roughly, tossed the sacks of goods back out the window before following them.
Rolling away from the fired building, Elrik coughed and gasped for breath, raising the faceplate of his helm and struggling to remove one of his gauntlets to wipe at his eyes. "Augh," he groaned, slowly standing and wiping the spittle and tears from his now soot-covered face.
Turning to the others, Elrik watched as they scrambled to revive the townsfolk they had managed to pull from the burning building. I didn't want this, he thought. Why did I ignore them? He had always been the soldier, someone else had been the commander. It was a reality he had learned quickly at the Spans - men were a commodity in war, and they were meant to be spent. Supplies on the other hand were necessities.
Bile rose in Elrik's throat as he thought of himself sending men to their deaths, into the maw of an enemy army to buy just a few more minutes for proper battlelines to be drawn or an ambush to be averted. He slipped his hand back into his gauntlet, then lowered the faceplate of his sallet helm to hide the look in his eyes. Waving the townsfolk out from their hiding places in the nearby alley, Elrik spoke loudly and quickly. "Gather up the supplies, share the weight around. We need everything we can carry. You," he said, pointing at a younger lad, "You saw how I searched the other hobgoblin bodies and took what was of use? Good, take from these as well, start with that one and I'll make sure the others are dead."
As the townsfolk started moving quickly, Elrik skirted around the others as they knelt beside the fire victims, quickly stabbing each of the hobgoblins splayed across the ground to make sure they were dead. The shop was fully ablaze now, the fire moving over to forge- The forge. Gorum's fist.
Drawing the point of his blade out of the last hobgoblin, Elrik ducked inside the open entrance of the forge proper and quickly looked around for anything else of us. The shopkeep had one hidden cash, it was possible there was another in here as well and if it was anything as finely made as that buckler it could be useful even just for trade.
"No!" Aramis exclaims as she inspects the people they've pulled from the building. "Come on! Breathe!"
She tries to rouse the sooty, still bodies.
Dead... I was too slow.
With a grim look, Aramis speaks over the dead. "I promise you, the hobgoblins will pay for this. I will make them pay."
After a moment of silence Aramis rises to her feet. To the survivors she says:
"Elrik's right. We've got to keep moving. The living need us, not the dead."
Arryn growled in frustration and rage as the loss of the four villagers became apparent. While the others gathered supplies and searched the hobgoblins, Arryn grimly set to search the four bodies for supplies or weapons, starting with Kining.
Clover does not give up so easily on the people from the burning building. In a near panic, and with tearful eyes, she goes from one to another of them, trying everything she can think of to revive them, or at least get them stable enough to survive. As a last resort, she uses magic to try to Stabilize any of them who don't otherwise respond.
As Clover works on the villagers -- trying her best to revive them with no luck -- Aramis moves to the forge. He's about to enter, when he realizes there's something else in there!
The others begin stripping the dead hobgoblins, coming away with four suits of scorched studded leather armor, four light steel shields, four longswords, four longbow with a total of 52 arrows, and 46 gp total.
The four villagers have little of value beyond their clothing and a half-dozen silver pieces.
Wounded and weak from smoke, Aramis pulls a vial from her belt pouch and drinks it.
Aramis collects what she can from the dead hobgoblins. When Elrik returns she shoves it into the sacks he collected.
---
"The Shrine is that way." she remarks when everyone looks ready to go, pointing the proper direction.
With the recent trauma of losing neighbours, Aramis has forgotten about the little stone fellow in the forge.
Stopping short, Elrik's grip tightened on his blade as he stared down the strange, man-shaped pile of rocks that seemed to be vibrating near the back wall of the forge. Taking a few more steps into the building, Elrik divided his attention between it and looking around to see if there was anything else. The rock-thing didn't have the same aggressive, and ugly, appearance that most of the Ironfang Legion did but that could mean anything.
"You, ah, boulderman. If you're a friend, you may want to get out of here before the fire collapses the building; if you're a foe, I'll leave you in here and we'll be on our way."
The elf stands in mute shock at the avoidable deaths the group was just forced to witness. The others moving around him, salvaging equipment.
We can't keep letting people die like that. We have to get these people out of here, saving anyone we can along the way . . ..
When he starts moving again, there's a fire in his eyes. His features flow again, returning to the owl. "Are we ready? Shrine next, then? Let's get up and get ready to move, people. We don't want anymore deaths that could be avoided."
Arryn will quickly put on a suit of studded leather armour, before indicating he’s ready to move out.
”We were too late here. Spent too long leaving the inn. But we can’t move too fast or we’ll be seen. Gods only know what the right balance is, but if they mean for us to survive, I’m sure they’ll help us find it.”
Hearing Elrik talking to something in the forge, Aramis cocks her head, listening.
"Oh!" she exclaims, snapping her fingers. "That rock thing!"
Aramis jumps to her feet and hurries into the forge.
Seeing Elrik trying to speak to it, she nods in relief. Slowly, she enters the room.
"Hello, again," she tells the rock man in a soothing voice. "You were nice enough before, hey?" she says aloud, more for Elrik's benefit than anything.
"I'll try to get it outside so you can look around," she continues in a soothing tone, clearly directing that last comment to Elrik despite looking at the rocks.
"What are you?" she asks the rock, this time in elven. "Can you come over here? Can you come out of the way?"
Aramis gestures that the rock man should come to her, and come out of the forge. She's sure to keep her actions calm and soothing.
"Come on, thaaaat's it." she coaxes in Hallit.
Aramis isn't sure if the creature understands her words but they seem to calm it. It doesn't follow her from the the forge, but does seem to settle back, content that it's in no immediate danger.
With some room to operate, Elrik notices what he suspects is an everburning torch burning near the forge, illuminating a pair of longbows on the floor.
In addition, hanging from a nail over the workbench are a set of keys. Several notes regarding the Phaendar Bridge -- which you know Kining was hired to refurbish, but stopped nine months ago after some cursory work (including setting up a work shed and a crane), demanding more pay -- are scribbled in chalk on a large piece of slate leaning against the wall.
As you look around, you hear a voice from above.
"Hello," the piping male voice calls, "have you dealt with that beast yet? Is it safe to come down?"
"Beast?" Aramis remarks, looking around to see who is speaking. "You mean this little rock man? I think he's kind of sweet. He won't hurt you, I don't think, if that's what you mean."
As the elf woman followed him in to the forge and started talking to the rock thing with that sort of baby-talk women always got around young children and cute animals, Elrik edged his way around the room and hoisted the torch off of it's nook near the forge, then made his way over to the longbows, grabbing the keys and the unmistakable drawings of the bridge on the way. If they needed to take it down, perhaps the smithy had taken notes on where it was most vulnerable to collapse.
Almost jumping right out of his armour when the voices called down from the loft, Elrik nearly dropped the keys in his haste to grab for his sword with the hand he wasn't holding the lit torch with. Lifting the light higher, he scanned for whoever - or whatever - was hiding up near the rafters.
"Even if it turns aggressive, you should get down now while you can. The shop is on fire and will quickly spread to the forge, and only the Ironfang deserve a roasting like that."
Two elves -- a man and woman -- descend from the hayloft.
"Our thanks," the man says, leaning down to pick up the bows. "We lost our weapons as we tried to gain some ground on the hobgoblins, and didn't think we could take that without them."
The female -- who looks like the man; they're likely siblings -- nods.
“You can take care of the townsfolk now,” she says, “We’ve got hobgoblins to hunt.”
”No offence, but there are dozens if not hundreds of hobgoblins here. Two archers aren’t going to do much damage on their own, but we could definitely use the firepower. We are stronger together. We need to save as many lives as possible tonight, gather townspeople and get across the river into the forest.”
Clover had said a final prayer for the departed and readied herself to move on to the shrine, but then found herself waiting while some of the others dallied in the the forge.
She decides to see what the holdup is, and catches the conversation inside. She adds her voice to those trying to persuade the siblings to join them.
"There are far too many hobgoblins here to fight against. You're worth so much more to us alive than a few more dead hobgoblin could ever be. We need you to protect the survivors. Every person who is alive and free tomorrow will add to the hope of the others around them. Just come with us now and be patient, you will have many chances at the hobgoblins yet to come."
Hearing the voices from inside, Barhador allows his animal focus to fade away, returning to his true form.
"Agreed." Aramis remarks, nodding along with Arryn, Clover and Barhador.
"We need to hurry." she adds.
Aramis makes one more gesture at the stone-man for him to follow her, hoping he'll leave before the place burns down. Whether he comes or not, Aramis moves to leave, rejoining the survivors so they can continue on their panicked trip through town.
The two elves seem hesitant but finally your words sway them, and they nod ... though they don't look happy.
"I'm Lirosa," the female says, "and my brother ..."
" ... Is Taidel," the second concludes.
Once the introductions are finished, you move on, leaving the dead people, hobgoblins and animals beside the burning forge, you rush toward 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 monument. 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 large wolf tearing into its flesh. It looks up at you and growls for a moment -- a clear warning not to come any closer -- before returning to its repast.
Several of the villagers you're escorting cry out in horror at the scene.
"Go on, GET!" Aramis growls at the wolf, urging it to back down and leave.
"There's a back door," Aramis tells the others. "We can go around."
"I like back doors right now. Let's go around."
The once-again feathered elf continues to seek out relatively safe paths for the group.
Elrik was thankful he didn't need to intercede with the elf siblings as the others coerced them not to run off and get themselves killed. As the brief argument ran it's course, he wondered if they would have listened to his rights and privileges as a knight of the realm. He could call up arms to defend the land, raise a militia if needed and conscript those able to fight. At least, he could do that lawfully until someone with a larger title than his own pittance came through. No need to test them, he thought thankfully. No need to test any of them. Hopefully I never will.
As the group began to move, Elrik took a moment to approach Oreld. "Take this, but keep it low and cover it however you need if you have to," he said, handing the alchemist shopkeep the everburning torch. "When you have the chance, take a glance at these as well. You're a learned man, more than I at least. See if you can find a weakness we can use to bring down the bridge behind us."
-----
As they were approaching the shrine, Elrik hesitated for a moment as his thoughts drifted amongst his alertness. He'd been seeing flashes of the bodies outside the forge, only to remember some of them had been animals. "Gorum's gnarled toes," he swore under his breath. Those might have made for some decent meals with some quick butchering work, he thought, then shook off the frustration. Then again, maybe the smell of fresh meat would have just led the Ironfang to us.
The shrine, sitting close along next to the main road and the bridge, was a common sight for anyone living in town, but with the village being fired and the screams still occasionally echoing through the night sky it took Elrik a moment to realize how quickly they had moved.
The skinchanger and the elf woman with the magical talents took the lead and Elrik fell back a bit, watching behind the group and urging on some of the slower villagers as they hauled their shared loads through the back alleys and shadows. When he heard the elf woman hissing and calling at something to 'get,' Elrik moved forward again to find the others discussing moving around the back of the building. From where they were the coast seemed clear, and while that wolf seemed marginally occupied for the moment it was still an Ironfang wardog. It might attack their backs, or it might even run to find it's master.
"Why don't we just put it down from here?" Elrik asked, then looked back and waved up Lirosa and Taidel, along with the dwarf caravan guard who was still toting the heavy crossbow. "You two wanted to do some hunting? Now is your chance. We have three bows between you elves," he said gesturing to the siblings and Barhador, then took the crossbow from the dwarf, "I'll shoot the crossbow, the kitchen lad can do his mind throwing thing, and you, my lady, can add whatever arcane strike you can muster right now." His thoughts humming, Elrik didn't even notice that he had practically deferred to the elf woman and turned and looked down to the halfling woman as well, "You wouldn't happen to follow in your people's tradtion of the sling as well, would you healer?"
Aramis smirks at the soldier. "I can muster a few more blasts."
With that she chants a few words in a strange language and flicks her wrist, causing a green, glowing, bolt of magic to fly from her hand at the wolf's face.
A nearby rock flies through the air at the wolf’s head.
"I meant all at once- Fire quickly, before it can start to run!"
"This is not avoiding trouble!
It is a horrible thing to see, and Clover hates to do it, but she looks long and closely at the body the wolf is ravaging. She expects Rhyn and Noelan to be here at the chapel, and it could be one of them.
Elrik's plan unfortunately doesn't quite work as he'd hoped, several of the arrows missing the wolf, which growls and charges this new prey. Unfortunately for it, the wounds are already telling and slow its attack enough for Lirosa to avoid it, spinning out of harm's way.
You're able to quickly put it down after that, leaving you free to enter the shrine.
Unfortunately, Clover's fear turns out to be all too true, as she realizes the body is indeed that of Noelan, the shrine's elderly caretaker.
Aramis looks sad at the sight of Noelan, and offers his body a quick prayer. Then she heads into the shrine and looks around.
Arryn drags the wolf’s body out of the street and hides it behind the shrine.
Then he comes inside, looking about.
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 remain in the room, both turning as strangers enter. One immediately moves to attack, but the other has to pull her ax from the altar, where it's embedded.
The feathers fade into striped fur as Barhador takes his bow and tries to slow the advance of the hobgoblin whose weapon is free.
When Clover sees the elf is reacting quickest to the hobgoblins, she moves forward and touches to him, hoping his arrow will fly true.
Clover: 22
Barhador: 22
Antagonists: 9.5
Arryn: 9
Elrik: 5
Aramis: 3
Barhador, with Clover's blessing, moves past Elrik to clear his line of fire and just barely hits the hobgoblin before it can gets its arm up to protect himself. He lets out a curse and moves to stand next to the other IronFang soldier as she rips her weapon free from the alter. Both turn and ready themselves for a fight.
Aramis moves forward into the room and flicks her wrist at the hobgoblin with the axe. Vines spring from her hand and flow through the air, reaching out and wrapping around the hobgoblin's leg. Aramis yanks her hand back, causing the vines to tighten and quickly retract towards her, in an attempt to trip the hobgoblin.
Arryn abandons his effort to move the dead wolf when he hears trouble inside. Poking his head through the door, he growls at the presence of two more hobgoblins, whips his hand out at a piece of random debris, and hurls it at the helmless bugger.
Elrik heaves a sigh as, despite some off-course arrows, the wolf goes down quickly without any further injuries to the villagers or his compatriots protecting them. As the others began heading towards the front doors of the shrine, Elrik turned to the two elf hunters as he handed the crossbow off to the dwarf. "We should have done this before, but butcher the wolf quickly for whatever decent cuts you can. We're headed across the bridge and we'll need as much food as we can carry even if we don't have a chance to salt it or cure it. We'll just eat it first."
Leaving the two to their quick work, Elrik crossed to the entrance just as the others threw open the door. The sharp bark of warning from inside and the skinchanger loosing an arrow let him know that there were enemies inside. One more fight, just one more, he muttered, unslinging his shield again and drawing his sword. Swallowing the dry, sticky sensation from his mouth, Elrik pushed forward, the sharp pain in his side still seething.
Inside, the two Ironfang were both facing him down the central path through the pews. Elrik slammed his sword against his shield and took a few steps forward, setting himself in a defensive posture next to a row of pews and waving both of the hobgoblins on. "Come on, you leather-skinned goats. Nirmathas is here. Nirmathas!"
Arryn: 9
Elrik: 5
Aramis: 3
Clover: 22
Barhador: 22
Antagonists: 9.5
With a little more space between you and the enemy, and no threat of fire, Arryn's able to concentrate better, and a piece of a pew slams into the hobgoblin's head, snapping his neck back. Unfortunately, even with Clover's magic again aiding him, Barhador's arrow slams into the altar instead of his target and the two enemies move forward to meet Elrik, who takes up a protective stance in front of the others.
Unfortunately, it takes all his focus to avoid the twinned axes of the uninjured female hobgoblin -- who he thinks is the bigger threat as she easily avoids the vines and approaches -- and the other's sword finds his ribs .
"Haha!" the female laughs. "More meat to fall in this unholy place!"
HG2: 12
With a frown, Aramis chants a few words in a strange language and flicks her wrist, causing a green, glowing, bolt of magic to fly from her hand at the ferocious hobgoblin woman's face.
Then she moves through the pews to the side, allowing her companions a better view of the enemy.
Elrik grimaced as the two hobgoblins rushed forwards together. A sidestep and he met the female Ironfang's wild swing with his shield as her axe blades bit into the heavy oak and clanged against the shield spikes. The force of the blow put him off balance though, and instead of parrying the sword blow of the other Ironfang the blow knocked the sword from his fingers.
The feral grin on the hobgoblin's face etched into Elrik's mind as it directed the point into his side, skipping past the edge of his thin breastplate and stabbing deep into his ribs.
With a hiss of pain that turned into a wordless cry, Elrik stumbled backwards, then down to one knee, and then to the ground.
Arryn reaches for another piece of pew and flings it at the more injured hobgoblin, but the chunk of wood sails high and wide.
In that case, Arryn uses his move action to call in the two elven siblings.
”Archers in enfilade!” he barks out, stepping aside to clear the doorway. ”Aramis, drag him out of there. Barhador, cover the retreat.”
The striped elf looses another arrow downrange, at the more obviously injured of the two (especially as neither is in melee right now).