Vallen is huffing and getting tangled in brush by the time the archer takes off further into the woods, and the dwarf is beginning to lose hope they will catch mysterious figure. "They're... fast... too fast. I saw feathers... black feathers!" He shouts between stumbling over a fallen log.
Bebop bellows an agitated call as Ysanne spurs on after the black feathered sniper. She slyly casts a spell of unconventional mindedness.
"Stop running, I cant keep up like this. Let's just talk this out ."
Saltpeter barks a few times
"ругатня!" Curses Donatello "I think it is drawing us away from the caravan!"
Don draws the crossbow he snaffled earlier as he keeps moving, slowing down as he concentrates on loading it without putting a bolt through his leg.
The sniper turns to look at Ysanne for a moment, confused. Then he looks past her and calls back to her.
"ਤੁਹਾਨੂੰ ਉਸ ਦੀ ਭਾਸ਼ਾ ਬੋਲਦੇ ਹਨ, ਨਾ ਕਰਦੇ!"
With that, he sprints away into the deeper forest, but she can still see him moving.
Vallen continues running through the forest, but he realizes he will never catch the sniper like this.
When the man shouts something to Ysanne the dwarf looks confused, not understanding a word of it. He looks back to Sorala. "Sorala! What did he say? What langauge was that?!"
Donatello aims and fires in one smooth action. As soon as the bolt has left the crossbow he is reaching for his next, mentally cursing his inability to enhance the bolt's stopping power, and then turning around to look for others raiders.
Moving as quickly as she can through the forest, Sorala tries to make out what the assassin says, its words floating on the wind.
Septimus continues chasing the creature.
Double move for 30.
Vada continues his pursuit.
Ysanne continues to follow the sniper into the woods.
Ysanne continues to push ahead, until she's 10' from the edge of the woods. She sees the sniper jerk and stumble as Donatello's crossbow bolt strikes home, though with most of its force spent.
The sniper runs ahead and turns again, drawing his bow and aiming at Ysanne....
and then shaking his head and shifting his aim to return fire at Donatello.
The arrow flies towards his heart, and then drifts away on the wind and whips past him harmlessly.
As the sniper begins to return fire, Vallen struggles to unhook his crossbow from his belt. The dwarf nearly trips over a root in the process, and decides it would be much safer if he simply stopped.
The cleric flinches as an arrow whizzes past, glancing behind to see Donatello unharmed. He puts his foot on the crossbow's brace and loads it with a bolt.
Septimus loads his crossbow then fires a shot.
for dmg
Miss chance
Knocking a branch away with her staff, Sorala yells. "Elf! It is an elf!" I think.
Vallen shouts to Sorala as she runs past him, his hands busily loading his crossbow. "It IS an elf? Or it was SPEAKING Elven?! There is a distinct difference!" His panicked mind has put a strange emphasis on semantics.
Vada keeps running. "Who cares! It won't be much o' anything when we finish with it!" he shouts.
Donatello - having seen no-one else - decides on one last shot at the sniper.
Just got to slow him down long enough for that big ругатня to catch up
Donatello smiles as the arrow is whipped past him in a gust of wind, takes his time, lines up his shot, increases the angle to account for the range and releases - right into another gust of wind.
"ругатня!"
Well, guess I can't complain about that. Fair's fair.
Turning away from the archer he moves back towards the 'caravan'.
Ysanne summons arcane armor up from nothing as Bebop crashes through the woods closing the distance to the sniper.
"Drop your weapons and they'll stop trying to kill you! We can be stronger allies together than broken and crippled enemies!" Ysanne points at the Sniper and emphasises he raise his hands in surrender by showing him both her arms raised, open, and unarmed pleading he save his own life and end the bloodshed.
Septimus fires at the sniper and the bolt scratches the skin, drawing blood as it flies past. Donatello's bolt thuds into a tree at the forest's edge. The sniper looks up at Ysanne, shaking his head, more in confusion than refusal. He draws and fires, this time at Septimus.
More arrows fly out of the trees, two of them finding their mark On either of her flanks are a pair of archers, one fifteen feet off, the other thirty. On either side, the closest are wearing nothing other than loin clothes, and are clearly elves. The farther two are dressed in the same cloak and mask as the snipers. She hears voices ahead of her, and recognizes the sound of spells being cast. Though the language is completely foreign, she knows they are shield spells. She spots a third elf in a loincloth straight ahead, and three more behind him in leather armor. Those three hold staves. The rest carry bows and wear swords at their hips.
Septimus moves up and left.
"try to keep one alive"
Vada sees one of the lightly-clothed elves take a potshot at Ysanne and growls in frustration. The farmer rushes up towards the elf, positioning himself to prevent the foe from shooting at his comrades again.
Seeing the group of elves laying in wait, Sorala fills with rage - rage at these elves for the attack on the beach, and the hurt put on Ranaz, rage for the indignities the Newspringers have suffered since their arrival, rage for harm visited on the survivors of the Harpy wreck, rage for the horror and pain that the Garrack must have suffered in his last moments. Moving forward, teeth clenched, fists white-knuckled around her staff, Sorala raises her hand and points at the nearest elf - one of the warriors in a loincloth - and opens her mouth in a wordless, red-faced scream.
Time to get out of here...
Ysanne pulls Bebop's reins to the left and then spurs the massive beast directly at her new attackers. Bebop shows no indication of slowing down as he attempts to trample over his enemies as Ysanne makes her escape.
Ysanne leaves a parting gift to any surviving foe as she hexes the closest surviving enemy with Evil Eye.
Donatello spins round at the sound of more fighting, then sprints towards the tussle. As he moves Saltpeter bounds ahead, then stops to look back.
Vallen finishes loading his crossbow and prepares to fire, suddenly finding there are many more targets. he fires at one of the targets up in the trees, not having a clear shot around Ysanne.
As the bison tramples over the two elves on the left flank, leaving bloody pulp in its wake, the three at the back rank continue muttering. If there was any doubt as to the nature of the spells they are casting, it vanishes as they suddenly grow as tall as ogres.
Sorala's spell causes her target to wince, but otherwise he seems to be unaffected.
ਗੱਲ-ਬਾਤ ਦੇ ਸ਼ਬਦ ਨੂੰ ਸਫੈਦ ਵਾਲ ਗੱਲ ਇਹ ਹੈ ਕਿ ਸ਼ੋਰ ਦਾ ਕਹਿਣਾ ਹੈ!" the elf at L8 shouts to the others.
The other elves decide the ground is not a safe place to be, and retreat into the trees. The two that were in the clearing run to the right and start to scramble up, and the two that were already in the trees climb up and draw their bows.
Sorala crouches and moves as quickly as possible to behind Rhyfelwr. "Rhyfelwr, dal dy dir ychydig funudau. Byddaf yn gwneud i chi mawr fel corachod."
Taking a pinch of iron dust from her pocket, the historian tosses it over the hobgoblin, and then Sorala belts out string of foreign syllables; a nonsensical babble, but with the structure and rhythm of language, strange in cadence and deeper in tone than the woman's usual voice. "Vella Terra, donar-li al seu protector de la força de la seva planxa, l'alçada de les seves turons, la duresa de les seves roures tigre, i l'abast del seu gran riu cap a l'oest.Vella Terra, donar-li al seu protector de la força de la seva planxa, l'alçada de les seves turons, la duresa de les seves roures tigre, i l'abast del seu gran riu cap a l'oest..."
Continuing to repeat the phrase, the Sorala showers the hobgoblin with more iron dust.
Vallen shakes his head as his crossbow bolt misses- it was a horrible shot and he knew it. The dwarf crashes through the undergrowth with the grace of a two-legged deer, knocking aside branches as they come towards the clearing.
It was clear there were several elves and casters- the dwarf's eyebrows shoot up as the caster begin to grow. The hobgoblins said they feared the elves' magic, and I see why now.
Vada holds his ground, looking fretfully between the enemies before him and his fellow Newspringers, weapon gripped tightly in both hands.
Septimus keeps heading left.
Double move to A13
"What the "ругатня?"
Seeing the now towering giants Donatello frantically winds the crank on his crossbow and drops into the scrub at his feet. Lying prone he takes aim, and releases.
Ysanne begins laughing- at first its a chuckle but it slowly grows into a maniacal cackle!
She readies herself against the ogre sized elves.
]
The elves in the trees all fire at the woman on the rampaging beast. Though her evil eye hasn't affected any of them, they seem unable to hit her.
The tall elves move to form a defensive line between the archers and the beast.
Donatello's bolt flies wide, but Sorala's spell takes effect, and much to his surprise, Rhyfelwr grows in size to match the elves on the ground. Laughing, he moves closer to the elf and swings, but the glaive gets caught in the branches of a tree.
Sandra Thayer draws her dagger and begins to sing, inspiring everyone with courage.
Septimus continues moving up on the left.
As Rhfelwer moves towards the nearest elf, Sorala turns her attention to the creature as well. Pointing the Garrack-staff at the elf, Sorala screams, voice filled with rage, "Aquest món que rebutja! Vostè serà separat de la seva família, els seus amics, els seus pobles!"
Vada grits his teeth, moving around Rhyfelwr's increased bulk to strike out at the closest elf. "I'M GOING TO REGRET THIS!" he shouts as his weapon arcs through the air.
As Vada moves up, the elf swings at him with his staff, missing completely, but causing the brave farmer to swing wild.
Vallen continues to struggle through the undergrowth, bee-lining for a large tree as a hail of arrows flies through the air. Panting, his eyes sweep over the battlefield, shrugging a large wooden shield onto his arm. The situation looks terrible, and his heart humps heavily in his ears from a mixture of exertion and fear.
The priest clutches his holy symbol with his shield hand briefly. Torag, we have no plan for this... but I trust you will guide us. He peers from around the large oak and spots one of the loincloth elves in a nearby tree, and aims his empty crossbow towards the archer. Perhaps this will help me aim... Angradd, guide this holy bolt!
A glob of caustic earth manifests and fires from the end of the crossbow towards the elf, sizzling in-flight as it reacts with the air.
Donatello starts to get back into the rhythm of the crossbow, loading and firing.
So: Bolts and enemies. Which am I going to run out of first?
Contining to cackle, Ysanne spurs Bebop to the north continuing to use the cover of the forest as a bane of arrows.
The giant elf nearest Sorala is distracted by the ghostly figure of a half-orc that seems to swarm around his head.
Vallen's blast of acid sizzles into the trunk of the tree his target is clinging to.
Donatello sends another crossbow bolt soaring into the trees, but at this distance, it seems he can't make contact.
Ysanne cackles, making everyone feel creepy. Septimus moves to stand beside her.
Three of the archers launch another volley at Ysanne, one of them hitting her square while the closest to Vallen aims at the dwarf and impales the ground between his feet.
As the giant elves move down to attack and keep their defensive line, Rhyfelwr figures out how to properly swing the glaive in close quarters, badly wounding the one he attacked previously. They attack him but miss badly, and he finishes off the first with another slice.
Sandra continues to sing, moving to keep Rhyfelwr between her and the giant elves.
Septimus calls out a murderous command to the enlarged elf closer to him. Then reloads his crossbow.
Murderous command DC15
Vada carefully steps away from the trees, and grunts in exertion as he tries to bring down one of the giant elves with his weapon.
The huge elf grins at Septimus.
"ਆਪਣੇ ਆਪ ਨੂੰ ਕਢਕੇ," he laughs.
Vallen jumps as an arrow sinks into the ground between his feet, quickly retreating behind the large tree. Breathing heavily in cover, he carefully loads a crossbow bolt before popping out to fire it up into the tree towards the offending elf. What am I doing? A ranged battle with an elf with a superior position? If only I could bring that tree down...
As Vada steps up, the elf whacks him in the face with his quarterstaff. Painfully. He then yowls in agony as Vada's mace catches him on the hip, bone crunching.
Donatello shook his head, reloaded
Five. I'll run out of bolts first, I guess...
and winced as the big man takes a hit from a quarterstaff the size of a tree.
Why, by Torag's ругатня are they attacking the ones obviously on magic? I've only met a few bastards who could keep a spell like that going more than a few minutes - if there's a bunch of those we're ругатня screwed.
"Stay away until the magic wears off!" he belows, then shoots
"I'd kill for a ругатня bow" he swears quietly as the bolt wings it's way into the battle