Aidan's eyes widen briefly. He makes a viscious slash with his hand, to which the cat, bathed bloody, roars assent.
He cups one hand to his mouth, his voice carrying like a storm in its infancy.
Taedric! An spiairí marcach mac tíre as a chuid máistrí! Lig dó nach bhfuil tuairisc!
Tkurzhan leaps towards the hut, catching himself on the lip of the structure and scrambling up, stalking across the roof with shoulders low and tail flicking side to side. Like a sanguine lightning bolt of wrath, he drops from the wall into the narrow pass amid the shrieks of terrified Goblins.
Taedric looks off to the fleeing mounted goblin, and replies, "Ní féidir liom teacht air, tá sé i bhfad ró agus a shamhlú go bhfuil a chuid mac tíre chomh tapa is a Trumps."
And what's more, I dropped my bow as we approached... Still, there's more than enough of us left to handle the hobgoblins...
His actions giving the lie to his words, Taedric directs Trumps into pursuit, nudging the wolf forard into full-speed run.
[ooc]Charging the Wolf-Rider: {Hatred, Charging} for
Seneca hurries forward, looking to get closer to the action.
AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 17. . (+5 armor, +1 Dex, +1 dodge, +2 deflection)
hp 10/10
Weapon Equipped Crossbow, Light +1 (1d8/19-20/x2)
Buffs Shield of Faith
After yelling after the gnomish rider, Aidan breaks into an easy sprint after the wolf, hoping both the wolf would turn around and that it would not, but he recognizes he may have to engage the creature to catch it.
He calls out to the fleeing greenskin in an obviously mocking tone, Nerk’ini gayly! Gzgzvats mushtakamort’ yerkch’vot!
Pluchak's rage is not subsided by the fearful Hobgoblin before him. He holds the staff out in one hand and then fall to the ground as both hands undergo a transformation. The green skin on his hands turns scaly, his nails extend into talon like claws and even the tusks in his mouth elongate as he bears down on his prey.
Claw Attack:
Claw Attack:
Bite Attack:
Claw Crit Confirm:
Claw Damage:
Bite Damage:
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Taedric turns Trumps and runs toward the goblin on wolfback. The distance is not insurmountable, but this will take some effort.
The goblins continue thier rout.
Seneca closes on the remaining goblinoids, while Abbas advances on the hobgoblin before him. A swing at the knee misses but leaves the hobgoblin distracted enough to connect with his face. The hobgoblin snarls and spits blood.
Aidan races after the pair of wolves but he is hopelessly outclassed in speed.
The hobgoblin near Abbas seeks to return the favor of pain, and it is only through fortune that Abbas misses a blow that could have nearly killed him. There is still some fight in this creature!
The remaining hobgoblin struggles to free himself, and when that fails (again!) he seeks to stop the big cat that has slain so many of his kinsman. His arrow finds the Thurzhans exposed hide, and though hardly the end of the cat, it could not have felt good either!
Pluchaks rage is fully manifest as he destroys the hobgoblin before him with nothing more than hands and teeth. Did the hobgoblin even see it coming?
The big cat hisses as it's hit by the shaft, and strides forward slowly through the unnaturally twisting grass, his pace calm, even. With infinite disdain, he grips the barb with his teeth, his tongue tasting familiar feathers. With a menacing snap, he crunches the arrow into mulch. With lacksadaisacal contempt, he makes a halfhearted swipe at the greenskin. His teeth snap around air with a snick, and he growls low in his chest.
Sweat beads the greenskin's grotesque face, and fear stings Tkurzhan's nostrils. The creature strains helplessly against the plants, his legs hopelessly tangled now.
The cat smiles.
This, he can help with, he thinks, and puts a paw on the thing's chest, and slowly unsheathes each talon in turn...
Don't worry, tastes-of-cabbage, fear will end soon. Tkurzhan will get you out of the cling-grass...
Taedric keeps riding forward, willing some of his innate magic to come to the surface. "Wolf!", he cries, knowing the beast can understand him, "Throw off the goblin, and I will give you a whole lamb and set you free!"
Pluchak drops the hobgoblin on the ground in a bloody mess, blood streaking down his face. He catches Abbas' eye and his eyes go wide. He hesitates for just a moment and shrugs his shoulders as if to say "oops".
He turns back around and retrieves his spear which is lying nearby and he peeks around the building. That cat is coming up on the other Hobgoblin and it had been wounded like him with an arrow. It too was covered with gore streaking down from its face and claws. How much alike were they?
The orc glanced down at his hands and saw they had returned to normal again and made up his mind. He stepped out into the entangled area to try to get an attack in on that hobgoblin or at least distract it from its current target.
Reflex Save:
One step in and the vines take hold of his legs. No wonder the other creatures have had a problem getting out of this area. He used his only means of attacking at a distance. He coughed up some phlegm and spat it out of his mouth. The acidic glob flew toward the hobgoblin.
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Thurzhan's menace to the hobgoblin brings something rare... The look of fear in it's cruel eyes. The bite does not connect, but so what. The fight is over, and all there is to do is to wait for the bodies to stop moving.
The last goblin tries to free itself, but it expends its whole turn doing so, and is not able to move anywhere.
Seneca reloads his crossbow and fires at the remaining goblin.
AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 17. . (+5 armor, +1 Dex, +1 dodge, +2 deflection)
hp 10/10
Weapon Equipped Crossbow, Light +1 (1d8/19-20/x2)
Buffs Shield of Faith
Aidan tries his best to alleviate the speed difference between him and Taedric before calling the powers of air and water to speed his comrade. Though there may be no perceptible difference in the wolf's speed, Aidan's hand shines a radiant blue hue as the sunrise over the ocean, as he reaches up to brush the gnome's thigh as he surges past.
The cat sinks his claws ever so slowly into the creature, ripping at his chest and breaking ribs. His cries of pain echo around the forest, birds like smoke rising in the distance. Buzzards circle hungrily overhead, but they know better than to disrupt this moment.
Pluchak slogs through the entangled area managing to make little headway, but he is able to get within reach of the murderous creatures. He has tremendous reach with his spear, and is able to make an attack.
Pluchak don't forget to spend guidance when you'd like.
Pluchak don't forget to spend guidance when you'd like.
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Seneca misses the last goblin, as does Abbas, though Aidan is able to help his companion. The final hobgoblin, with the large cat bearing down on him tries again to free himself, but fails again. Hopelessly he tries again. The end is very near.
Pluchak brings his spear against the goblin, but the bad luck plagueing his team makes him no exception.
Thurzhan continues his macbre game with the goblin. A claw punctures the hobgoblins chest. Waves of fear roll off the creature, but it does not fall.
The last goblin can only try to run. Fear propels him like a loosed arrow and he runs for the left side of the map and for cover and safety. Pluchak uses the opening to try to gouge him with the spear, but alas, this goblin with such bad luck finds just a little here and dodges the blow.
Pluchak spits at the fleeing goblin.
Acid splash
Pluchak drives his spear through the Hobgoblin's chest as it turns to flee, pinning it to the roiling turf. He chuckles a little as he realizes that fully half the length of his new spear is covered in blood. It is finally broken in. He pulls the spear out with a sickening slurping noise and sets it upright to allow the blood to flow down the shaft.
That should get their attention.
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The last hobgoblin finally falls to his own poor thinking and Pluchaks mastery of the spear. And this place which you could imagine 12 hours ago being the center of some sort of simple tranquil hermitage is again quiet. The small plants have reverted to thier former size and character, no longer binding those that enter thier grasp.
But the cost... A woman, whom you presume to be the herbalist lies dead. Though this was no ordinary gardner judging by the number of enemies she took with her. The vultures are still in the trees, waiting for the part to move on so that lunch can continue.
Aidan scowles after the fleeing wolf's trail, but moves to reverently search the herbalist's body. He cuts a lock of hair and places it in his pouch in a clever knot, then searches her more thoroughly.
He does not look pleased to be doing it.
Tkurzhan spends his time licking the blood dripping from the orc's spear as the man shrinks back to normal size.
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Abbas begins the laborious work of piling the dead goblins. He soon realised the work would go more swiftly if he took of his armour. It did. As the fighter goes he strips each one of its armour and equipment taking care to avoid any pocket traps or rusty edges. His father had taught him to be orderly so the weapons go in one pile, any gold, silver or pouches of knuckle bones go in another.
He takes a break when that is done, going to drink from the well.
Going to take time to dig a big hole. Maybe they should be burnt? Dunno.
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The herbalists body is badly beaten, cut, stabbed, bitten and a thousand other indignities. Worst is her face which seems to have beeen stomped or budgeoned post mortem and now does not even appear to be human. The pain is well past anything you could want to endure, and the thought... Well the thought makes your stomach flip and your breakfast sit uncomfortably. She was not thin, perhaps 55, with very strong and calloused hands. How much of what you see here is her work? A house, an out building, a walled garden, a well.
On her person you find nothing at all save her clothes. She wears sturdy, and presumably handmade clothes.
Abbas, is a work horse, and once he sets his mind to it, it happens quickly. Armor in one pile. The hobgoblin armor is repairable studded leather. They also have steel shields. The goblin armor is foul and likely worthless, being pieced together for all manner of armor, and other items. (Is that really a wooden shingle worked into that one? And that one has a broom in it!) The weapons of the hobgoblins are the same as above, servicable if unremarkable. Long swords, long bows and arrows. The goblins weapons are rusty, crooked, dull or otherwise unusable.
In the coin pile he adds a great number of coins. Also pouches with coins that he does not yet open. And some jewelry. And a chest. Nice quality. Locked. Likely from the herbalist.
Somewhere into the project the big man determines that he should have another pile for household items. There is much of value and too much to list, but everything from scorched books, iron pans, a wobbly chair, a garden hoe, a smoking pipe, empty bottle, full bottles, a small box with needle and thread, a leather apron the list goes on and on. Many of these things were on the cart. One wonders if the greenskins considered it an honor or a chore to be part of the looting team.
If there was a practical way to do it, Abbas might have started another pile, this one to hold a small pig that has roamed back, and chickens... Maybe 2 dozen, as well as several cats that look feral and mangy, but seem to have that unyeilding beacon to the place where they eat.
The well offer one bright spot. The water is good and clean and cold and refreshes after Abbas' exertions.
Aidan helps by catologuing useful supplies- new arrows for Taedric, the armor for any who might want it, and so on. He does his best to represent the herbalist's craft in her burial tools, crossing a hoe across her chest, and a sprig of wild flowers clutched in her broken hand.
He sets to work near the forest, delineating a long, narrow trench to lay the goblins in, despite the protests of the wildlife.
Aidan spends the rest of his time acclimating himself to the various animals. Perhaps, once he has rested, their words will make sense to him.
If we were to spend the night here, I will be able to prepare spells at dawn to parlay with these beasts and to hearten our backs for journey. We will be able to return these items in their entirety to our lady, and mayhaps she will see fit to open the lock. I will also endeavor to act upon knowledge gleaned from any witnesses.
With that last, he gestures to, of all things, the chickens.
Bring one of their heads. We may be able to speak with it through Pharasma's clergy.
Pluchak settles down into his normal form and feels a little silly after his heroic pose. After a moment, he goes and helps collect the nameless dead. The down time gave him a slight chance to think. How were they going to finish their quest?
Aren't we supposed to bring back some kind of flower? Does anyone know what it looks like?
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There are a number of plants in various stages of growth and flower about. The wicked goblins seemed intent on destruction for its own sake, and the garden, orchard and berry bushes have been badly damaged by the evil little menaces. For whatever reason, the cold frame seems to the left of the house seems largely undisturbed. The glass covering (what a luxury that!) has been broken, but many of the plants inside are unharmed or nearly unharmed.
"Burn the goblin scum. Save a proper burial for the herbalist. I will be honored to say a prayer for her soul. I suppose there is nothing to do for the plants, but bring back as many as we can carry and hope the lady can identify the correct ones. Aidan, your idea to obtain useful spells is a good one. Can we wait that long?"
I don't see why not. Perhaps you and Pluchak might identify the megalithic circle we reside in? If it be some sort of protection, perhaps repair it... While we rest, Pluchak's night vision will serve well to collect plants and keep guard, so, perhaps you should get an early start on the bedding down, friend.
Aidan spends the rest of the afternoon empathying animals. DM, roll any applicable checks for me. Mine is a +2.
Pluchak felt quite confused. How did Aidan know about his vision in the dark? Perhaps he had met a half-orc before. That one was pretty easily explained. It might also show why he was not afraid of him. Maybe the gnome felt that way too.
But why did he assume he knew something about the monoliths?
He sat down, feeling the stab of the arrow in his belly. The bouncer had pulled it out a while back, but it really hurt. Perhaps a rest wouldn't be bad. I am feeling a bit tired. He said to Seneca. Perhaps you could look at the circle and let me know what you figure out and I will pick it up from there.
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Abbas sets the goblin pyre alight, using brushwood, bushes and the driest leathers to start the blaze. Then he begins throwing the various bits and pieces of poor equipment on top, humming to himself all the while.
"That good, Seneca?"
He searches the area and finds a nice patch near the corral to start the digging of a grave. As he works the symbol of Nethys bobs back and forth in and out of his sweaty tunic. The ground is hard and dry, compacted in places and gravelly in others. Eventually he has dug down about three feet and had enough.
"That good, Seneca?"
Once he is done to everyone's satisfaction, Abbas wanders over to Pluchak with another mug of fresh water.
"When you go angry, you go big, greener and get claws. How come? Made that big goblin dirty himself before you sliced him up good and proper! You is one dangerous person. Glad you are friend not enemy is all."
Wonder what else needs doing?
If we are to bed here, it may do to reinforce ourselves against the inevitable goblin counterattack. Abbas, you could easily strip down some of these trees. Tell me, have you ever served in the militia?
Aidan scans the meadow, searching Seneca's face for signs the cleric of the Prince of Lies might be in touch with his dieties' magical bent enough to ascertain the circle's meaning.
I wonder what has Pluchak so unnerved by my suggestion... Perhaps he resents my directness in issuing orders? No matter.
Taedric, have you any skill at following or concealing tracks? I have a plan, of sorts...
Pluchak gave Abbas a slight smile without bearing his teeth at the man. "I don't really know why I do that, I just do. Orcs don't even normally do what I do. I've heard that sometimes people have other types of monsters in their ancestry, but I can't ask my parents. They're dead." He looks out into the forest with a far away look in his eyes. I think I'm done talking about that for now", he sighs.
He looks back at Abbas. "I'm glad you believe that I'm on your side. Not everyone does. The Lady does and that is good enough for me. I've never really had a whole lot of people treat me like a person before. I could get used to it."
He stands up when Aidan comes over to talk to them, keeping pressure on his arrow wound. "Show me what you want done with the trees and I'll help."
Aidan sets to work on a simple bandage, secretly hoping Seneca might have healing magic. You know, I suppose, how the Isgerian archer line constructs their palisades? Felling trees and sharpening the branches?
He gestures around the clearing.
Should be plenty of brambles to shore it up proper.
"Abbas, yes the grave is good. We can bury her after I look after Pluchak's wounds." Seneca looks over the bandaging work done by Aidan. "This is good work Aidan, but let me see if I can bring some additional help. Great is Asmodeus."
"I can pray to our Prince for more assistance in the morning. In the meantime, I can look over the monoliths as you have suggested." Seneca walks around the circle of monoliths looking to see if he can tell anything from the markings.
Pluchak remains silent as he is healed. He has never been healed before, and it feels strange. Soon it is as if he had never been injured. No more pain. He had never been around such nice people before. They treated each other like family. Or at least what he imagined a family would treat one another.
Maybe he would try to find out more about his abilities and help them out as well.
After the healing, Pluchak went off into the woods and knocked a couple of smaller trees down and dragged them back in front of the cottage. The ones that were mostly dead were the easiest to get, because they actually snapped off with a bit of work. It took a while, but he managed it.
When he had collected the trees, he spoke up so everyone could hear. "I will go ahead and get some sleep, wake me up when whoever else is on watch tonight gets tired and I will take it from there. That is, unless there's something else someone needs from me?"