As both groups, Pathfinders and Twinhorns, take a few moments to collect themselves after the battle, Arbiscar and Katswiri examine the shattered chandelier further - understandably concerned about more devils or worse suddenly dropping in for a visit! Putting your heads together you determine that the devil seemed to have been bound inside the chandelier, though for what purpose isn't exactly clear. You're both pretty sure however that the protective wards that had been placed around the museum were holding the creature in place, with it only managing to break free due to the other Pathfinders and yourselves disabling the wards.
"Clearly this Nigel and his museum dabble in things that are questionable and dangerous," Medda scowls, her expression eerily mirroring Anok's usual one for a moment. "I am still willing to meet with him about the theft of Ivvora's dagger but I hope that now you see that we did have some justification for intruding into this place. Someone who has a bound denizen of the Hells as part of their decor can't exactly be a shining example of trustworthiness and common sense, by my thinking."
"Understatement of the year," Anok replies flatly as he watches Esh's antics with a look of grudging respect. "At least these Pathfinders have some sense and strength to back up their bravado."
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The crowd of guards, onlookers, and concerned citizens outside the Blakros Museum quiets as Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin approaches a woman clad in furs exiting the museum. “My Pathfinder agents tell me that you are Medda of the Twinhorn following, is that correct?”
“Yes, I speak for the following.” Medda glares at Nigel Aldain, “I have come to reclaim what is rightfully ours. His agents stole our most sacred relic after we refused to sell it. We have traveled through dangerous lands to claim it back, and still he refused—”
“My agents claim they bought it,” Nigel protests. “I’m not going to just give it to you because you stomp into my office demanding priceless artifacts.”
Valsin interjects, “Nigel, let us listen to her story and decide how to proceed. Medda, tell us about this relic. Why is it so important to you?”
Medda takes a deep breath. “Over 900 years ago, a powerful warrior named Ivvora came into our camp. She spoke of an angel named Vildeis who guided her hunt for a great dark evil she called Eshimka. Several of our scouts had recently disappeared, later found ripped into pieces. The elders insisted that we help banish this evil and ensure the safety of our following. They laid a trap for the evil spirit, luring it to our sacred standing stones on the winter solstice. There, Ivvora and the great dark evil, Eshimka, fought a mighty battle that raged for hours. Just as the night was darkest, Ivvora dealt Eshimka a telling blow, digging her dagger deep into its flesh. The creature tried to escape, but it only snapped off the blade and then collapsed on the center stone. The elders finished their ritual and destroyed it completely.
“Ivvora rested with us for the winter before departing to eradicate more evil from the world, but not before leaving us the hilt of her weapon.” Medda withdraws a bundle of bloody cloth from her bag, then unwraps it to reveal a small hilt with a bloody fragment of black metal. “She told us to bring the hilt back to the standing stones every year at the winter solstice to keep evil away. We’ve had to travel for so long to retrieve the hilt, I’m afraid we won’t make it back in time for the solstice. Please, let me leave now.”
Ambrus Valsin contemplates Medda’s story for a moment, then nods, his brow furrowed. “Nigel, you should send for the Blakros agents who ‘obtained’ the hilt and hear what they have to say. Medda, I’m going to send as many Pathfinder agents as you deem necessary to travel with you and your following. I want to ensure we return this relic to its proper place.” Nigel starts to protest, but Valsin cuts him off. “Nigel, you wanted my help; you are getting it. I’m helping you fix a mistake your agents made. As for your museum,” Valsin takes a moment to survey the heavily damaged museum, ”I’m told most of the damage was done by your own security, not Medda and her following.
“Pathfinders, prepare to head north to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords.”
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Medda and Ambrus Valsin discuss long into the night how the Society might help the Twinhorn following. By the morning they have concluded that while teleportation magic might take the Kellids and Pathfinders as far as Lastwall, Medda insists that Ivvora’s hilt has lost some of its spiritual strength since being stolen. She believes the only way to restore its power is to walk the same path that Ivvora took into the Twinhorn’s land after the Shining Crusade—and that path leads straight through the Hold of Belkzen, an unforgiving land controlled by orcs!
Society mages gather to transport small groups at a time to Lastwall, and from there, the convoy of Kellids, Pathfinders, and supply wagons set off north. For all their brutal reputation, the orcs have become somewhat more welcoming of caravans at the urging of Grask Uldeth, one of the strongest orc chieftains and the ruler of the de facto capital Urgir. Those who stop at the Table of Ralock can purchase safe passage in the form of special tokens from tribal representatives. It remains to be seen whether the Pathfinders can secure enough.
Urgir, capital of Belkzen, land of the orcs, is a dusty city composed of a discordant combination of crumbling dwarven architecture and rickety shelters. Medda has asked that everyone try and obtain tribal tokens, which allow safe passage through Belkzen and protection from the orc tribes. She has purchased as many tribal tokens as she can with gold but still needs more to have enough for her following warriors and the Pathfinders.
"Your best bet is to speak to the leaders of the different orc clans that call these lands home," Medda advises to all of the gathered Pathfinders, including the seven of you. "There are seven different clans represented here and each one's leader possess different strengths and interests. Go - befriend them, impress them, outwit them - and then return here with the tokens."
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After spending some time asking around, you manage to locate each clan's chieftain as well as learn a small bit about them and the clan that they lead.
Blenta is a wild woman with fierce looking tusks, short, wind-blown hair and a scar down one eye. She is surrounded by a pack of dogs, and has a falcon that she is hand feeding some meat on a knife. One of her dogs snarls as you approach, baring his teeth. "Leave us," she responds, not even bothering to look up from tending to her falcon. "The dog eats strangers."
Borbus, despite a huge bloody axe, grins as you approach. "Bwahaha! New faces, new meat," he laughs. "I've been watching your people - you need the tribal tokens or you're stuck here! Maybe if you entertain me I will be generous. What do you say, New Meat?"
Bukog is shorter and more human looking than most of the orcs here.
As you look, you realize that he’s definitely a half-orc, though tough looking. He studies you, holding a blade which is crackling with magic, he swishes it, drawing an arcane mark that burns in the air before him. "Hmm...the look in your eyes, I have seen it before. The need, the hunger. You seek the tribal tokens I have to give, but they don't come freely. Maybe a trade, information for information?"
Gekgaro sports a mohawk and leather armor backed with a ridge of spikes made from bone. He looks at you and spits on the ground. "More outlanders for the slaughter! We are strong because this land demands it or else it will have your blood! What do puny creatures like you know of survival in the lands of Belkzen?"
The old woman is surrounded by the oddest tribe you’ve seen here. Many are half-orcs, and most of the warriors are female. They all bear amulets with the motif of the Burning Sun. "The Healing Flame spoke to me this morning when I greeted her at the dawn," the old woman says without preamble. "‘Help them on their mission’, she said - but only if they can help themselves. What say you, strangers? Are you capable?"
Kardook grins at you through a mouth that has lost some of its teeth, but still has both long tusks intact. "Well, look what the warcat's dragged in! Whatcha think, guys? Should we find out just what they're made of? Might be fun..."
Unlike many of the other Orc leaders, Mirtog is slight and wiry. He grins, pulling a long knife out of seemingly nowhere. "Don't see many like you here. Most like you don't survive here long," he leers.
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Katswiri makes sure to get a good night's rest, relaxing before sleep by painting a picture in her journal of the fight with the devil, Arbiscar warding off the creature's glaive as Dekion slices into its side.
The following morning, she joins her group for the teleportation, and begins the caravan trip. While doing so, she takes note of the signs and portents, reading the patterns of birds on the wing to gain insight into her path for the day.
Katswiri suppresses a snort when she hears of Gekgaro boasting of the difficulty of survival, and approaches him confidently. "You would be surprised what I have survived, Gekgaro." Katswiri smiles knowingly at him, a twinkle in her eye. "I hail from a land as rugged and brutal as your own. I survived my youth in the deep deserts of Osirion, where the merciless sun bakes the body and bleaches the bone, and the strong fall to shifting sands and hidden predators where the wise and knowledgeable prevail. I survived, and I did it because I know, and I see." Katswiri's eyes glaze over, knowledge of the past flowing through her mind and into her words. Her voice takes on a distant, but powerful tone. "I know the history of this land, its people. The forces, natural and sentient that have shaped it. I have seen the dwarves that built this land, and the struggles of Belkzen to defeat them and unify the orcish nation. I know the struggles of the hunters and the tribes, and the human farmers that seek the scratch a living from the unforgiving soil. I know, and that is my strength."
The visions fade, and Katswiri's eyes refocus on Gekgaro. "I think you will find that I am more than worthy to pass through and thrive in these lands." She adds quietly.
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Marcus refills his quiver of it's missing arrows, making sure they are organized to make drawing one of the several arrow types he carries an easier task. Once his quiver is organized in a satisfactory fashion, he rolls up bundles of the remainder of his arrows and puts them back in his pack in the most protected spot he can find so they won't get bent or dinged.
Seeing Mirtgog, Marcus feels perhaps the half orc will be easier to deal with than the full orcs. The trick pulling the knife, is one he's seen many times in the streets whether in Ilsur or an intelligence gathering missions in Korvosa. If he wanted to make an impression, this first encounter was not the right time to do it. "Thanks for the advice. I'll be careful."
With that, Marcus attempts to get lost back in the crowd of merchants, caravaners, guards, and representatives in this place. Once he feels he's gotten away from Mirtgog's attention, Marcus tries to work his way around, using the crowd of humans and orcs alike as cover to make a second approach. This time, he attempts to do it silently, trying to make an impression upon the halforc by taking him by surprise to prove his skills. Once he's gotten as close as he feels he can, without starting a fight, he addresses the orc again. "The skilled can make their way, just as the fierce can. We just do it differently."
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Esh approaches the leader of the Cleft Head, Borbus. He grins widely as it's his first time so far North. And it's also his first time discovering the land of Orcs.
Raising a fingery eyebrow at the laugh of the leader, the ganzi chooses to join the orc's laugh, throwing back his strange head, with fingers floating behind him.
"BWAHAHAHAHA! 'New meat'? 'Meat'? Are you sure of yourself, Esteemed Borbus? Have you met many of my kind? We're not made as you, orcs. Ganzi are made of snakes. If you stab one, you'll get bitten from the snakes inside." he says, confident of himself.
Feeling that luck is not with him, the ganzi chooses to twist probabilities and alter his own oratory performances.
"But it's nothing until you witness TRUE CHAOS! One of my ancestors was made of pure elemental chaos. But only the days where he had eaten. Since he was an anachorite and ate rarely, nobody wanted to approach him. Chaos stings." he says with a fingery wink.
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"I'll go see this Mirtgog of the Murdered Child. I have a feeling he will appreciate my skills."
Leepo and Scritch wander off to approach this orc leader, striding right in. Hearing that he appreciates stealth, they make the approach that way, sneaking up to him.
"Hell, great Mirtgog!"
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As the group spreads out to try to obtain the necessary tokens, Dekion tries to figure out how he can help. He decides to approach Kardook.
Dekion grins back at the orc with a little laugh. "I guess it depends on what you had in mind. Based on that smile, I'm assuming it won't be a beauty contest. Maybe some arm wrestling?" he says as he looks at the group waiting for a response.
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Gekgaro initially offers a derisive snort as Katswiri approaches, his eyes immediately trailing to her wayfinder. "Pathfinder scum! You are lucky that Gekgaro has more pressing business to see to or else I would see how well you fare against my blades."
However, as Katswiri begins to speak the orc falls silent. His eyes narrow at first as he listens, clearly suspicious of the woman and her claims. His demeanor changes however as she seems to tap into some sort of ancient power, relating the history of his people's land with the confidence and wisdom of someone who does indeed know and see.
For a long moment, Gekgaro considers Katswiri's words. "Pathfinder scum or not, it seems I have mistaken you for one of the many mewling weaklings that attempt to pass through these lands. But weak you are not, for you tell of our history as well as any shaman of the Broken Spine tribe. You have earned my respect, small one. I will give you my tokens if you will answer me a question: I seek a hospitable place for my tribe to shelter this winter, away from the other tribes." He pulls out a rough map of the region and lays it down on the ground for perusal. "What would you recommend?"
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Unbeknownst to each other, both Marcus and Leepo decide to approach the shifty Mirtgog. After a clever attempt to put the orc off his guard by addressing his rather veiled warning, the ranger disappears into the crowd and begins to work his way back around to the orc's rear. Unfortunately, Mirtgog's eyes are quite sharp and he sneers as he spots Marcus approaching.
"With skills like those, you'll be lucky to make your way out of Urgir in one piece," he responds as Marcus addresses him again. "If I were you, I'd stick with your bl-AHH!" he yelps as Leepo suddenly addresses him, having come up behind him while he was focused on Marcus. He spins around, knife in hand...and then blinks as he registers just who startled him.
"Heh...heh heh...bwahahaha!" he chortles, laughing until he's nearly in tears. "I take it back - maybe you two've got what it takes after all! Good work, sending in a distraction like that...will have to remember that one myself." Clearly Mirtgog thinks that Marcus and Leepo must have had the entire thing planned out from the start - and both of them consider that it might be for the best to continue letting him think that.
"I've been watching you and your little friends," Mirtgog continues. "You're after tribal tokens. Just so happens, I have a few to give away. Think you can dig up a little information on Grask Uldeth, leader of the Empty Hand? Should be no problem for you two, eh?" he grins wickedly.
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Borbus' eyes grow wide with astonishment as Esh boldly proclaims himself to be made of snakes upon snakes and oozing pure chaotic essence. "Zounds! They've sure got some strange ones running around outside of Belkzen!"
He chortles loudly and slaps Esh on the back, hard. "I like you, you're interesting! Come, share a drink with me and tell me more about these snake-people ancestors of yours!"
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Arbiscar gets increasingly tense as the officials reveal their plans. As soon as they point at the orcs gathering, he hits the ground with his hammer "What kind of nonsense is this?! You want us to sweat talk some murder beasts?" the dwarf is clearly taken by the situation and cannot handle his emotions "Do you want me to deal with those ones that took my people ancestral land by blood? I would first die opening my way through the whole Hold of Belkzen killing the troops of the all united orcish tribes with my silver hammer than reaching an agreement with a single bastard one of those chaotic murderers!"
The dwarf reminds the venture captain about what an orc is and the untrusty of their character as well as the eternal grudge of his people and rejects negotiating anything with any of them at the same time he growls menacingly at all orcs present.
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Kardook's grin grows wider, displaying several yellow teeth, a few of them rotted. "I like the way you think, human! You're on!"
Kardook pulls up a table and a pair of chairs, motioning for Dekion to have a seat while he settles himself in the other chair. Several of Kardook's fellows gather around, eager to watch. Once the two of them are in position, Kardook laughs. "Alright human, prepare to face defeat at the hands of Kardook, Chief of the Bloodied Gauntlet! Begin!"
And the contest is on! At first Kardook seems to gain the upper hand and his orc fellows burst into uproarious laughter, fully expecting to see him beat Dekion soundly. But the strong warrior quickly rallies, veins bulging as he begins to slowly force Kardook's arm down...more...more...Kardook's grin quickly fades to a look of surprise and grits his teeth as he attempts to push back against Dekion's arm. The orcs gathered fall into an astonished silence as Dekion forces their leader's arm down against the table with a solid *THUD*! Then they immediately burst into cheers, slapping Dekion on the back and shoulders.
"Bwahahahaha! What a match!" Kardook laughs, eyeing Dekion with a new respect. "Whatcha say, human? Best two out of three!?"
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As the rest of his group scatters out to speak to the various orc leaders, Arbiscar stays behind, his dwarven pride refusing to allow him to sink so low as to bargain with or worse, entertain a bunch of vile orcs. At his outburst, some of the gathered orcs look up, their faces darkening with anger as they mutter among themselves and shoot calculating looks at the Pathfinders and Kellids in their midst.
Sensing trouble, Medda immediately beckons Arbiscar aside to where they can speak more privately. "Stay your anger, proud dwarf. It's not my wish to bargain with these creatures either, but Ivvora's hilt has lost some of its power after being stolen. It is my belief that the only way to restore its lost power is for us to walk the same path that Ivvora herself once took, right through these lands."
She sighs. "And even with Pathfinders and Twinhorns combined, we do not have the strength to make our way through these lands with brute force alone - hence the tokens, to allow us passage." Kneeling down, she addresses Arbsicar at eye-level now, as a sign of respect. "It is my belief that your companions will be able to demonstrate to these creatures and their leaders that we are strong and that we are wily - for these traits are what the orcs of Belkzen respect. And should we prove to be so, then they will allow us to pass through these lands and they will know that they will suffer terribly should they attempt to bring their swords to bear against our own."
Medda takes Arbiscar's hands in her own, grasping them firmly. "Still, I understand why you feel as you do. Forgive me for asking something of you that I have no right to ask. Instead, will you stand watch with Anok and I, to make sure that no weapons are brought to bear against us while we are in Urgir?"
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Arbiscar breaths deep somehow feeling bad for raising troubles to Medda, although he is too proud to admit "You have my word the hilt will reach your lands Medda. I will be by your side and bite my tongue for your benefit, as I understand you have to give homage to your ancestors and this honors you"
The dwarf makes his silver hammer to his side "But first orc that brings a weapon against us will perish with his skull crushed under my earthbreaker"
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Marcus approaches Bukog, trying to determine what might impress the human looking orc. He pulls some maps of the terrain he'd been making of the area on the journey in. He quickly adds the current location where the meeting is on one of the simpler maps, keeping back the most detailed ones for society purposes. "Perhaps this might be of value for you."
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Katswiri will help Gekgaro determine a suitable location, picking an area with suitable terrain to support his tribe's needs.
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Afterwards, Katswiri will purchase a roll of canvas, then seek out Bukog of the Steel Eater tribe, finding him in a discussion over Marcus' maps. "If that is not to your liking, we know a great deal about many things, and would be pleased to trade." Katswiri takes out her journal, with dozens of painted pages depicting her travels and shows them, one page at a time to display her work. "I am a painter of some small skill, but I am also a seer. If I focus my gifts and allow them to guide my hand, I will create for you a masterpiece depicting any scene you wish, or of any of the places I have traveled.
If you wish to see the earthfall as it happened, or the great metropolis of the elemental plane of air, I can paint them for you. Or if you wish something more mundane, from the deserts of Osirion to the Grand Lodge of Absalom, or simply a portrait piece, I would be most happy to accommodate you." Katswiri will attentively wait for his response, then use her focused trance to paint him a masterpiece painting of whatever he may wish.
Bukog raises an eyebrow as Marcus shows him the maps he'd been making of the area and then shakes his head. "A good try, but either your skills are rusty or you've clearly never traveled through Belkzen," he responds, his words blunt but with no particular malice or anger behind them.
As Katswiri approaches, he gives the woman a rather skeptical look until she begins showing him the sketches and notes kept in her journal. "Ah! Now this, this is really quite something!" he exclaims, baring his teeth in a fierce smile. "Anything that you have seen or experienced, you will paint for me? Hmm..." Bukog furrows his brow in thought for a moment. "The great Earthfall is my choice. If your work is as fine as you claim, then my tokens will be yours."
And after Katswiri spends her time working on the painting, Bukog is not disappointed. "My! It's almost as if you were there yourself as it happened - I can 'see' the sky rippling, hearing the cries of anguish of the doomed below! Wonderful!" Bukog laughs gleefully. "The Steel Eaters keep their word. You may have my tokens, little painter!"
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"I was. It was...complicated. And fascinating to no end. My first experience with the society, actually, and still one of my most treasured memories." Katswiri carefully packs away her painting supplies and gives Bukog a wide grin. "I need to see the other tribe leaders regarding their tokens, but if I have time later tonight we should get a drink together and I'll tell you all about it. It's an even more exciting story than it sounds."
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Katswiri makes her way to Blenta of Storm Screamers, and stops in her tracks when warned of the dogs. She pauses at a safe distance, allowing her focused trance to bring her all of the information about the assembled animals. The silence stretches for some moments, as her trance concludes. "These are fine beasts, and fierce. I am impressed by the breeding. Their diet might be improved if they ate more eggs, and fewer interlopers however. They are very good for the teeth."
Katswiri will attempt to draw the woman into conversation about her animals, seeking to impress her with knowledge about the beasts.
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"Hmph," Blenta snorts, her tone one of grudging respect. "Most of your kind don't appreciate the work that goes into breeding such fine dogs. It's...good to meet one who can, for a change."
As Blenta finishes feeding the falcon perched on her arm, she strides over to the dog. "Down, Bear," she commands, giving the dog an affectionate pat on the flank as it stands down. "So, you think that adding a few eggs to their diets in place of meat will make their teeth stronger? I hadn't thought of that. Come, tell me more..."
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Graffa regards the little halfling as she comes cartwheeling through the crowd, expertly dodging both orc and Pathfinder alike. Once Leepo comes to a stop in front of her she raises an eyebrow and chuckles.
"Ah-gee-lay? Must be Taldan," the old orc matron responds, her voice kind. "I used to move with the same sort of ease once, long ago when I was young. It served me well many times, to dodge foes...and crowds! I think it will serve you well too." Graffa reaches into her pack and pulls out a handful of tokens. "You are capable, child, and I can sense that your companions must be so as well. Take these tokens and go, with the blessing of the Healing Flame."
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Blenta Benefit:
PCs gain a +1 on attack and damage rolls against animals and magical beasts for the rest of the adventure.
Borbus Benefit:
Before attempting a Bluff, Escape Artist, Perform, or Sleight of Hand check during this adventure, a PC can decide to roll twice and take the higher result. Each PC can use this benefit once before the end of the adventure.
Bukog Benefit:
Each PC gains a +5 bonus on any Day Job checks performed at the end of this adventure.
Gekgaro Benefit:
Each PC gains the Nimble Moves feat until the end of the adventure.
Graffa Benefit:
Each PC chooses either the Acrobatic or Athletic feat and gains it for the rest of the adventure.
Kardook Benefit:
Each PC can use Martial Flexibility as a 1st-level brawler once before the end of the adventure; if a PC already has the martial flexibility class feature, she gains 1 additional use per day for the rest of the adventure.
Mirtgog Benefit:
At the start of an encounter, each PC can choose to gain the Precise Strike feat for the duration of the encounter. Each PC can use this benefit once before the end of the adventure.
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Having traveled for more than a week through the harsh lands of Belkzen, the Twinhorn warriors grow excited as they come within a few days’ travel of their homeland.
As the sun dips behind the Smokespur mountains, the sound of drums start to echo off the rocky canyon walls, starting slowly at first, but quickly increasing in pace. Medda turns from her lead position in the caravan and shouts “Look out! Ambush!”
The drumming continues as a boulder hurtles from the mountain and lands on the lead wagon, sending splinters flying in all directions. Clouds of dust billow off the mountainside as dozens of orcs surge from the foothills and chant to the beat of the drums. Arrows and boulders begin to rain from the slopes.
Medda calls out, “Pathfinders, someone is willing to risk Uldeth’s ire by attacking us! I need some of you to meet their vanguard, others to guard the caravan, and a third group to take out their archers.”
With the decision made to meet the approaching orcish ambush head-on, the group spends a few quick moments gathering their wits and then advances forward and positions themselves near the ruins of an ancient dwarven outpost; it seems the most defensible position from which to confront the enemy vanguard. Within moments the sound of battle cries and battle drums fills the air as a mass of orcs and their monstrous allies charge down from the foothills! The party sees what look to be three orcs wielding falchions in the lead, accompanied by three coyotes and what must be the leader of the vanguard, a rather tall and imposing orc holding a spear. Of note is that the tribal banners carried by this group of orcs are different from the various clan banners you saw back in Urgir; this one depicts a shard of ice, carved into the shape of a wickedly sharp tooth.
For every 5 that you beat the DC, you may ask for one piece of information from this list.
For every 5 that you beat the DC, you may ask for one piece of information from this list.
For every 5 that you beat the DC, you may ask for one piece of information from this list.
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Marcus
Leepo
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Falchion Orcs
Spear Orc
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Dekion
Arbiscar
Scritch
Esh
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Coyotes
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Katswiri
Active Conditions: Bless
Marcus and Leepo are UP!
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As she takes in the mass of orcs and coyotes ready to attack, LeepoBot grins at her companions. "Don't worry, I got this - they just need to get a little closer, first!" she says as she pulls out one of her bombs and readies to throw it.
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Marcus
Leepo (Readied Action)
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Orc Warriors
Orc Sergeant
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Dekion
Arbiscar
Scritch
Esh
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Coyotes
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Katswiri
Active Conditions: Bless
Marcus is UP!
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"Grrum! It seems our officers have sprung at last a bit of sense into their minds. Finally some orcish smashing fun!" the dwarf casts light and magic weapon on the head of his Earthbreaker while he prepares to receive the assaulting group.
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Whether because he's tangled with orcs before or perhaps known others who have, Marcus actually remembers a fair bit about the fighting tactics and training that many of them possess. He knows that the regular grunts don't have a lot of specialized training or training in general, opting to stick primarily to their falchions where possible and to rely on their inherent strength and tenacity to prevail.
Marcus also knows that the leaders of orcish vanguards such as these tend to be a little better-trained and prepared than the grunts they command, as well as physically stronger. They're fond of using their might as well as their battle prowess to deal powerful blows and intimidate their foes.
Deciding that it'll be easier for Arbiscar and the rest to handle the orcs without the smaller fry in the way, the archer raises his bow and with an expert shot drops one of the coyotes where it stands!
"HEY! Dogmeat was favorite!" the orc sergeant bellows with anger. "Death to the pinkskiiiiiins!" he roars and the orcs surge forward! Two of the grunts have the presence of mind to try and cover their approach by ducking behind some of the crumbling masonry but the third grunt and the leader simply advance directly towards the group. LeepoBot bounces on the balls of her feet with anticipation, but neither orc quite makes it into the range of her bomb.
"Come onnnnnn, just a little closer!" she groans.
As he advances, the leader focuses his gaze on Arbiscar and he sneers, hefting his spear in challenge. "Haha! Puny dwarf, we take these lands from your kind years ago! Dwarves can never stand up to orcish might!"
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Marcus
Leepo (Readied Action)
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Orc Warriors
Orc Sergeant
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Dekion
Arbiscar (Light, Magic Weapon)
Scritch
Esh
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Coyotes
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Katswiri
Active Conditions: Bless
Dekion, Arbiscar, Scritch, and Esh are UP!
Arbiscar answers the leader's challenge with one of his own and charges the grunt out in front! The grunt has just enough time to regret his life choices before Arbiscar brings his earthbreaker down in a vicious blow and sends blood and bits of bone flying in all directions!
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Marcus
Leepo (Readied Action)
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Orc Warriors
Orc Sergeant
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Dekion
Arbiscar (Light, Magic Weapon)
Scritch
Esh
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Coyotes
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Katswiri
Active Conditions: Bless
Dekion, Scritch, and Esh are UP!
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ScrithBot follows behind Esh, taking aim at the Red Leader with his crossbow. He fires...
...and misses! "Hah! Your tiny bolts will not hurt me!" the orc leader chortles. But then as Esh locks eyes with him, he blinks. Once. Twice. Then, his eyes blaze with fury and he spins to face the Purple Grunt to his left - whose eyes widen with alarm. "Oh s***."
"I see you, puny pinkskin! You will not escape me!" Red Leader bellows, pointing at Purple Grunt with his spear!
Meanwhile, Dekion steps up behind Arbiscar and readies his sword to meet anyone or anything foolish enough or brave enough to try and slip past him.
The two remaining coyotes bound forward, snarling and snapping, right for Arbiscar as he's the closest and tastiest-looking enemy that they see!
The first coyote's bite misses by a mile but the second manages to just hook his teeth in a tiny gap in the dwarf's armor, leaving a small scratch on his leg.
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Marcus
Leepo (Readied Action)
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Orc Warriors
Orc Sergeant
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Dekion
Arbiscar (Light, Magic Weapon; -1)
Scritch
Esh
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Coyotes
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Katswiri
Active Conditions: Bless
Marcus, Leepo, and Katswiri are UP!
Katswiri moves up to provide Arbiscar with some protection against the forces of evil, while Marcus drops another of the coyotes with a well-timed shot! Tired of waiting for the enemy to come to her, LeepoBot moves up behind Dekion and heaves a bomb at the remaining coyote!
The bomb explodes in a shower of fire, smoke, and blood but despite being right in the line of fire Arbiscar is unharmed by the blast!
"Haha, eat flames!" Leepo cheers.
Red Leader chases after Purple Grunt, attempting to skewer him with his spear - and succeeding! Purple drops to the ground, unmoving.
Meanwhile, Yellow Grunt attempts to maneuver around Arbiscar but doing so brings him within reach of Dekion's waiting sword and the brave warrior cuts him down!
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Marcus
Leepo
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Orc Sergeant
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Dekion
Arbiscar (Light, Magic Weapon; -1)
Scritch
Esh
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Coyote (-7)
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Katswiri
Active Conditions: Bless
Dekion, Arbiscar, Scritch and Esh are UP!
Already scorched and singed from Leepo's bomb, the coyote is no match for Dekion's blade and collapses with a high-pitched yelp!
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Marcus
Leepo
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Orc Sergeant
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Dekion
Arbiscar (Light, Magic Weapon; -1)
Scritch
Esh
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Katswiri
Active Conditions: Bless
Arbiscar, Scritch and Esh are UP!
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Esh has a good laugh, seeing his tricks work wonders.
"Wow, he truly KILLED THE MOOD!" he says, winking.
Not wanting to let things go, he shifts his gaze on the leader he previously cursed and attacks him, triggering psychic pain in the orc's mind. He slithers "You areeee a weakling... A shallow image of a leader... You kill your own men in your bloodlust!"
for and
and
for