|
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Walking into town from the north along the Lost Coast Road, Bærn passes by numerous villagers, many of odd appearance, leaving the town through Northgate. Wearing his custom-forged suit of armor, the dwarf steadily clanks along the road and, due likely in part to the horrid smell emanating from the short warrior, causes those leaving the sleepy little town to give him a wide berth. The smell, those later recall, reminds them of a mixture of rancid alcohol, copious amounts of polish, and rank body odor - something that even a goblin would find difficult to withstand.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Passing underneath Northgate, Bærn greets the guards stationed there with an accidental expulsion of stank from his rear end - causing the guards to recoil in horror moments later. The dwarf himself, upon taking an unnaturally deep breath, sampling his handiwork, lets out a hearty laugh, doubling the effect of the flatulence with his foul breath. ”Oooh tha’ one’s a ’tasta! Bi’ o’ tha’ tangy side, if’n I do say so m’self. I’d rate i’ a sev’n.” Patting himself on the stomach, the dwarf gives a nod and a grin to the nearly-fainting guards as he passes into the town - and sees the festival.
”Oooh wha’s we go’ ‘ere then? A fes’ival? By Torag’s magn’f’cen’ beard, is tha’ free food I smell? ‘Ope I ain’ ta’ late ta’ sample m’self some o’ i’! Le’s jus’ see ‘ow i’ c’mpares ta’ me lil’ brotha’s food, eh!?” And with that, clanking and letting out the occasional crowd-clearing flatulence, Bærn heads directly to the nearest booth - one that so happens to be manned by an odd, furry-looking fellow that appears to be giving out pieces of skewered venison.
As the stinking dwarf trundles past heading for the White Deer's venison stand, Eugeni gags a little bit. The guards, seeing that no one was hurt, wander off while muttering about the boy that cried dire wolf. Eugeni turns to Alina and Xamarath. "You guys smell that dwarf? Do you think it would be violating his person for me to summon a few gallons of clean water inside his armor? He's going to clear out the festival with his stink otherwise."
"No more than his stench just violated us." Alina said from behind the handkerchief she'd covered her mouth and nose with. "The question is can you make enough water and if you do, will the land under him be contaminated from the runoff. You don't want to make that stench permenant. You could clear out Sandpoint."
"Violating? I recon you're doing him a boon! He must've been torn something awful between bathing after too long on the road and making it to the festival in time. With your help he can still enjoy the latter...while all of us enjoy the former!"
"He's liable to thank you, I suspect," Zoli grins.
Then, after a moment's thought: "Hey by the way, that's not the Mr. Rumplepants you mentioned, is it?"
"Hehehehehehe," Eugeni chuckles evilly, before sidling over to within thirty feet or so of the dwarf. He motions the others to follow, and to stand in a loose circle. With everyone standing around he says, "I'll pretend like I'm talking with you guys, play along." He then casts the cantrip to create water several times, causing gallons of fresh water to appear inside Baern's armor. He mutters the magical words while trying lamely to disguise the somatic components of the spell as part of the hand gestures involved in animated story telling.
Reaching beneath the collar of his vest, Xamarath retrieves and fastens a deep, crimson scarf around his face to cover both nostril and mouth. Slightly muffled, his agreement is as forthcoming as the dwarf's stink is vile. "Again, I marvel at the similarities. It seems the dwarves of this place are terrified of bathing as well. By Azuth's Old Staff, what a stink! It smells like chimaera's cock doused in skunk musk."
With as earnest and innocent a face as she can manage, Zoli says to the red wizard, "Truly, great mage, your familiarity with the smell of chimaera's cock is impressive. Dare I ask from whence you came by such deep knowledge?"
The one guard who had appeared earlier is easily enough convinced by Eugeni’s quick words that nothing is amiss, and moves on. Security is lax today, as the festival had drawn most of the citizenry of Sandpoint to the courtyard to enjoy the various sights, tastes, and experiences provided. Zoli notes quickly that most of the guards are in attendance with their families, and are apparently off duty.
As Baern begins to enjoy a sampling of the venison provided by the White Deer Tavern and Inn, he notices that his feet suddenly begin feeling wet. He glances down to see if he had stepped in a puddle, when he realizes that the water he is feeling is inside his armor! As confusing as the situation is, another torrent appears, this time washing down the dwarf’s odorous form from above. Those gathered around the White Deer’s stand begin laughing appreciatively at the prank and take a few steps back to avoid accidentally becoming part of the show.
Before he can respond to the atrocity that has befallen his proud dwarven aroma, a sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd as the sun’s setting rays paint the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, and the buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus has taken the stage. He clears his throat, takes a breath to speak, and suddenly a woman’s scream slices through the air. A few moments later, another scream rises, then another. Beyond them, a sudden surge of strange new voices rises—high-pitched, tittering shrieks that sound not quite human.
The crowd parts and something low to the ground races by, giggling with disturbing glee as the stray dog gives a pained yelp and then collapses with a gurgle, its throat cut open from ear to ear. As blood pools around its head, the raucous sound of a strange song begins, chanted from shrill, scratchy voices.
“Goblins chew and goblins bite.
Goblins cut and goblins fight.
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!
Goblins race and goblins jump.
Goblins slash and goblins bump.
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!
Chase the baby, catch the pup.
Bonk the head to shut it up.
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We be goblins! You be food!”
Another goblin comes sprinting down Church Street, swinging it's blade wildly as it cackles with glee. It cuts through one fleeing man's leg, causing the man to fall, screaming as he clutches the gushing stump in agony. Baern is jolted to action at the sight of a blade piercing through the stomach of the serving girl who had served him just moments before. As she falls to the ground, another goblin comes into view. It is immediately distracted by the food on the stand, however, and quickly grabs a stick of venison and thrusts it into it's toothy mouth.
At the next stand over, another goblin hops up onto the table, screaming at the citizens who had gathered there, and swipes it's blade furiously at one who did not appear frightened enough. The poor man's throat begins spurting blood as he falls, his throat slit wide open.
Nearby, Morythine, who had been standing beneath the shade of a tree most of the day to help avoid the bright sunlight, sees another of the vile creatures chase a child up a tree across the street. Frustrated at the loss of it's quarry, it throws it's crude blade up in an attempt to skewer the boy, but the blade instead misses and becomes lodged in a branch. The goblin stamps it's feet in frustration, then begins looking for something else to throw.
All around, screams and fighting can be heard as civilians run for their lives, or those few who were fortunate enough to be carrying weapons take up arms to defend themselves.
__________
Map
"No!" Eugeni shouts when he sees the goblins begin murdering people and animals. He grabs the longbow off his back and quickly draws an arrow from his quiver. He draws up on one of the closest goblins and fires, putting an arrow through its shoulder. Eugeni shouts, "Koj yuav tau them nyiaj rau cov neeg ua phem!" at the little fiends.
____________________________
Hit
As the festival erupts into bloodshed, Morythine's lethargy is broken apart. The goblins charge into the square, and the dhampir notices one nearby happily disarm itself by wildly throwing its blade up into a tree.
Driven not by concern for the child cowering in the branches, but instead by the excitement of engaging in a good, dirty bout of fisticuffs with a lesser creature, Morythine springs from the shadow of one tree to another. He swings his fist at the goblin, but it ducks under the strike faster than he could anticipate.
___________________________________________________________
Miss!
Affording a few chuckles at the halfling's insinuation, Xamarath raises his hands before him in a mock defensive gesture. "You might not believe it, but there exists in the Grand Lodge an extensive treatise on the nature, dimensions, and odors prevalent in chimaera genitalia. Only now do I question why I chose to read through the damn thing."
Chaos erupts further up the street, and Xamarath turns in the direction with a peaked eyebrow. "That seems... odd."
|
As combat breaks out, Kala reacts quickly. "I don't have time to strap my shield on with all these people in danger," she thinks, and charges the nearest goblin, drawing her greatsword and letting out a battle cry, "By Iomedae's Blade! If you want blood, try to take mine you little green bastards!
_______________________________________
Kala's charge takes the goblin entirely by surprise and she hacks deeply into its chest with a heavy overhand blow, causing the blade to become a bit stuck. The warrior then kicks the goblin's unconscious form off the blade as blood pours from its wound.
"Nice blow, Kala! Give them hell!" Eugeni cries, fully enraged now. The sight of the innocent festival goers being sliced open plays over and over in his head as his blood pounds through his veins. He can't stop growling as righteous fury burns in his chest.
Ulp! Goblins -- real ones, not a play -- here at the How? Why?
Zoli grabs a stone from her pouch and loads her sling, hesitating just a fraction of a second to brush her fingers over her lucky Thassilonian button.
It'll be just like shooting those apples, She tells herself. Nothing fancy, just aim and fire.
And with that, she takes a step forward, swings the sling overhead and sends a stone flying toward a goblin...only to see it bounce harmlessly off it's armor.
"Oh come on, Chaldira, don't fail me now!"
______________
|
|
”Oof.”
Bærn’s first reaction to the water suddenly being conjured inside of his armor is to look down, raise his leg, and violently attempt to shake the water off. Though the intended effect was to clean the sodden dwarf, it instead had the effect of causing him to smell more akin to a wet, mangy dog than anything else - and the smell of armor polish was unaffected, still as strong as it ever was. ”Ooh na’, di’ I jus’ we’ m’self ag’n? Shi’, knew I shouldn’a drank tha’ keg o’ -”
It is here that Bærn is interrupted by the crack of a thunderstone by the good Father Zantus. Momentarily distracted from his ‘apparent’ emptied bladder problems, the dwarf looks around, startled at the noise at first, but quickly regaining his composure at the sign of the priest standing at the podium.
Moments later, the poor dwarf jumps again when the screams begin to ensue. ”Wha? Wha’ was tha’? Wha’s all tha’ screamin’ -” Looking around at the cause of the commotion, his face turns from confusion to outright anger upon spotting the perpetrators. ”Gobbins?!
Drawing his pole-mounted hammer, a weapon creatively named the ‘Dwarven Longhammer’, Bærn sidesteps the cart he was standing next to and, drawing forth as much power as he could with the big weapon, brings the weapon down upon the goblin in an overhand smash.
Allowing no room for mercy against the pitiful goblins, Bærn’s hammer easily caves in the bastard’s skull, smashing it, along with the rest of its body, against the ground with an audible crunch. What appears to be left of the goblin is little more than a crumbled, bloody heap - one that, when Bærn lifts his hammer, sticks to the end of the hammer disgustingly, dripping blood. As he yells this, he attempts to shake off the clinging goblin-corpse, even as he looks around for a next victim.
__________________________________________________________________
Affording a few chuckles at the halfling's insinuation, Xamarath raises his hands before him in a mock defensive gesture. "You might not believe it, but there exists in the Grand Lodge an extensive treatise on the nature, dimensions, and odors prevalent in chimaera genitalia. Only now do I question why I chose to read through the damn thing."
”Oof.” Bærn’s first reaction to the water suddenly being conjured inside of his armor is to look down, raise his leg, and violently attempt to shake the water off. Though the intended effect was to clean the sodden dwarf, it instead had the effect of causing him to smell more akin to a wet, mangy dog than anything else - and the smell of armor polish was unaffected, still as strong as it ever was. ”Ooh na’, di’ I jus’ we’ m’self ag’n? Shi’, knew I shouldn’a drank tha’ keg o’ -”
It is here that Bærn is interrupted by the crack of a thunderstone by the good Father Zantus. Momentarily distracted from his ‘apparent’ emptied bladder problems, the dwarf looks around, startled at the noise at first, but quickly regaining his composure at the sign of the priest standing at the podium.
Chaos erupts further up the street, and Xamarath turns in the direction with a peaked eyebrow. "That seems... odd."
The poor dwarf jumps again when the screams begin to ensue. ”Wha? Wha’ was tha’? Wha’s all tha’ screamin’ -” Looking around at the cause of the commotion, his face turns from confusion to outright anger upon spotting the perpetrators.
"No!" Eugeni shouts when he sees the goblins begin murdering people and animals. As the festival erupts into bloodshed, Morythine's lethargy is broken apart. The goblins charge into the square, and the dhampir notices one nearby happily disarm itself by wildly throwing its blade up into a tree.
Driven not by concern for the child cowering in the branches, but instead by the excitement of engaging in a good, dirty bout of fisticuffs with a lesser creature, Morythine springs from the shadow of one tree to another. He swings his fist at the goblin, but it ducks under the strike faster than he could anticipate.
As combat breaks out, Kala reacts quickly. "I don't have time to strap my shield on with all these people in danger," she thinks, and charges the nearest goblin, drawing her greatsword and letting out a battle cry, "By Iomedae's Blade! If you want blood, try to take mine you little green bastards!” Kala's charge takes the goblin entirely by surprise and she hacks deeply into its chest with a heavy overhand blow, causing the blade to become a bit stuck. The warrior then kicks the goblin's unconscious form off the blade as blood pours from its wound.
"Nice blow, Kala! Give them hell!" Eugeni cries, fully enraged now. The sight of the innocent festival goers being sliced open plays over and over in his head as his blood pounds through his veins. He can't stop growling as righteous fury burns in his chest. He grabs the longbow off his back and quickly draws an arrow from his quiver.
”Ulp! Goblins -- real ones, not a play -- here at the Swallowtail Festival! How? Why?
Zoli grabs a stone from her pouch and loads her sling, hesitating just a fraction of a second to brush her fingers over her lucky Thassilonian button.
”It'll be just like shooting those apples, She tells herself. Nothing fancy, just aim and fire.
And with that, she takes a step forward, swings the sling overhead and sends a stone flying toward a goblin...only to see it bounce harmlessly off it's armor.
"Oh come on, Chaldira, don't fail me now!"
Eugeni draws up on one of the closest goblins and fires, putting an arrow through its shoulder. Eugeni shouts, "Koj yuav tau them nyiaj rau cov neeg ua phem!" at the little fiends.
”Gobbins?! Gobbin’s?! Oye, ye lil’ facks, na’body ‘urts innocen’ folks while I be ‘ere! C’mon an’ ‘aste dwarv’n steel!” Drawing his pole-mounted hammer, a weapon creatively named the ‘Dwarven Longhammer’, Bærn sidesteps the cart he was standing next to and, drawing forth as much power as he could with the big weapon, brings the weapon down upon the goblin in an overhand smash.
Allowing no room for mercy against the pitiful goblins, Bærn’s hammer easily caves in the bastard’s skull, smashing it, along with the rest of its body, against the ground with an audible crunch. What appears to be left of the goblin is little more than a crumbled, bloody heap - one that, when Bærn lifts his hammer, sticks to the end of the hammer disgustingly, dripping blood. ”Oye! I jus’ clean’d tha’ weap’n ye’ fack’n sod! Ev’n dead, yer caus’n meh ‘rouble!” As he yells this, he attempts to shake off the clinging goblin-corpse, even as he looks around for a next victim.
The goblin by the wagon cries out in pain at the arrow piercing it's shoulder, but it's face quickly turns to rage as it reaches up and breaks the arrow sticking out of it's body with it's free hand. "Ki ta nik thu wa, be zha! Gribbo! Wat di be zha!"
The goblin then charges towards the group of longshanks that are not fleeing, and attacks the first one it comes to, Zoli. However, the crude nature of it's attack makes it easy for her to dodge crude goblin blade.
"Gribbo" on the other hand, appears to be too caught up in the mayhem of the scene to care what his friend called out. He hops up onto the man's chest that he had just amputated, and flips the blade over into a downward thrust and mimics the song being sung that can be heard throughout the courtyard.
The blade buries itself into the helpless man's chest, and after a brief moment of fear and pain, his head falls back lifelessly to the dirt.
Meanwhile, at the base of the tree, the goblin frantically looks around for something to bash Morythine with, but is unable to find even a stray branch, as the area had been cleaned thoroughly for the festival. In desperation, it leaps at Morythine attempting to wrap up his arms and hopefully gain an advantage.
Fortunately for Morythine, he saw the goblin's futile attack coming, and while the creature was midair, he nailed the goblin square in the nose with his fist. With a sickening sound of crunching bone, the goblin falls limply to the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath it's twitching form.
__________
"Leave her alone!" Eugeni barks at the goblin trying to stab Zoli. He draws the feathers of a another shaft to his cheek before releasing the shaft in its direction, taking careful aim to avoid hitting the halfling. So careful in fact that he misses them both completely.
____________________________________
Miss
Seeing few goblins immediately threatening him, Morythine kneels down over the little runt he just felled. Firmly taking an ear in each hand, he proceeds to twist the goblin's oversized head around until he hears its spine snap.
He then stands, briefly adjusts his tricorn, and looks about to see if there are any other foes that warrant his attention. He ignores the child blubbing in the branches above him.
_________________________________________
coup de gras
adjust hat
Seeing the goblin run toward her, she yelps "Oh Calamitous Turn, he's running straight toward me, this is the time, "
After dodging the goblin's rusty blade Zoli drops her bow behind her, draws her rapier, and thrusts. Blinking twice she notices with surprise that she has pierced directly through the goblins heart. An overwhelming mixture of surprise, horror, excitement, and pride wash over her. I just killed a goblin. Not a squirrel. Not a pheasant. A real goblin!
She grimaces, watching the bloody body slumps to the ground as she pulls her blade back, and then a new thought sinks in: "I did it! Did you see that?"
_______________
As chaos erupted all around her in crimson spurts of hot blood and gore, Alina found herself initially unable to do more than stare at the violent murders taking place all around her. Where did they come from? She wondered as shock rendered her oblivious to the danger that swarmed around her. I wonder if they’re friends with Ravboom? Could this be some kind of revenge for that little spat earlier?
Then something warm and wet brushed her cheek and the shocked woman absently wiped it off with her hand. The sight of deep crimson blood mixed with a bit of bone on her hand snapped Alina’s attention to the potential danger that remained. The Halfling quickly dispatched the closest goblin leaving only the one currently eviscerating the remains of a its victim.
Affixing the goblin with doubtful look she whispered uncertainty into its simple mind. “You’re not going to live long with your armor falling off like that.”
_________________________________________
|
|
Kala can only see one nearby goblin, finishing off a helpless man. "That will be your life, foul creature," she says as she drops her greatsword to the ground. She then moves into clear line of sight of the creature, drawing one of the javelins from her back. Upon reaching her destination Kala hurls the javelin, but misses narrowly.
___________________________________
Slow to react, only just now realizing that the goblins of this world are indeed as ferocious, vile, and crude as those he is familiar with, Xamarath takes in the scene around him. It is the sight of the knee-high terror being skewered by Zoli's rapier that jars him into action, further spurred forward by the sight of the pale skinned stranger beyond twisting a second goblin's head around with practiced ease. The Thayvian's expectation of high adventure whilst exploring the remote corners of Varisia was absolute, even welcomed. Being attacked in broad daylight among an immense crowd of townsfolk during their most celebrated festival, though, is so far beyond what he anticipated that he begins as if in a malaise. Soon, he masters his confusion, and turns a soft look with a mismatched angry tone towards the remaining goblin.
"Must not have heard my story. Never piss off a Red Wizard!"
With practiced ease and little effort, Xamarath interlocks his hands before him with index fingers outstretched. Kala's javelin descends from its crest to impale its target, joined seconds later by Xamarath's own attack. He strikes a brief left jab against the air before him, propelling a translucent manifestation of arcane energies ahead at high velocity. The missile takes on a shape reminiscent of a bird of prey as it hisses through the air and strikes the goblin square in the face, rippling cheeks caving in the creature's face before the blast dissipates into nothingness.
______________________________
>
"Leave her alone!" Eugeni barks at the goblin trying to stab Zoli. He draws the feathers of a another shaft to his cheek before releasing the shaft in its direction, taking careful aim to avoid hitting the halfling. So careful in fact that he misses them both completely.
Seeing few goblins immediately threatening him, Morythine kneels down over the little runt he just felled. Firmly taking an ear in each hand, he proceeds to twist the goblin's oversized head around until he hears its spine snap.
He then stands, briefly adjusts his tricorn, and looks about to see if there are any other foes that warrant his attention. He ignores the child blubbing in the branches above him.
Seeing the goblin run toward her, she yelps "Oh Calamitous Turn, he's running straight toward me, this is the time, MAY YOUR LUCK OVERFLOW RIGHT HERE REALLY FAST!"
After dodging the goblin's rusty blade Zoli drops her bow behind her, draws her rapier, and thrusts. Blinking twice she notices with surprise that she has pierced directly through the goblins heart. An overwhelming mixture of surprise, horror, excitement, and pride wash over her. ”I just killed a goblin. Not a squirrel. Not a pheasant. A real goblin!”
She grimaces, watching the bloody body slumps to the ground as she pulls her blade back, and then a new thought sinks in: "I did it! Did you see that?"
As chaos erupted all around her in crimson spurts of hot blood and gore, Alina found herself initially unable to do more than stare at the violent murders taking place all around her. ”Where did they come from? She wondered as shock rendered her oblivious to the danger that swarmed around her. ”I wonder if they’re friends with Ravboom? Could this be some kind of revenge for that little spat earlier?
Then something warm and wet brushed her cheek and the shocked woman absently wiped it off with her hand. The sight of deep crimson blood mixed with a bit of bone on her hand snapped Alina’s attention to the potential danger that remained. The Halfling quickly dispatched the closest goblin leaving only the one currently eviscerating the remains of a its victim.
Affixing the goblin with doubtful look she whispered uncertainty into its simple mind. “You’re not going to live long with your armor falling off like that.”
The goblin removes it’s blade from the dead body on the ground, and then begins looking around confusedly due to Alina’s witchcraft. It looks at her and says, ”You crazy, longshanks. Me armor fine!”
Kala can only see one nearby goblin, finishing off a helpless man. "That will be your life, foul creature," she says as she drops her greatsword to the ground. She then moves into clear line of sight of the creature, drawing one of the javelins from her back.
Slow to react, only just now realizing that the goblins of this world are indeed as ferocious, vile, and crude as those he is familiar with, Xamarath takes in the scene around him. It is the sight of the knee-high terror being skewered by Zoli's rapier that jars him into action, further spurred forward by the sight of the pale skinned stranger beyond twisting a second goblin's head around with practiced ease. The Thayvian's expectation of high adventure whilst exploring the remote corners of Varisia was absolute, even welcomed. Being attacked in broad daylight among an immense crowd of townsfolk during their most celebrated festival, though, is so far beyond what he anticipated that he begins as if in a malaise. Soon, he masters his confusion, and turns a soft look with a mismatched angry tone towards the remaining goblin.
"Must not have heard my story. Never piss off a Red Wizard!"
With practiced ease and little effort, Xamarath interlocks his hands before him with index fingers outstretched. Only seconds later, he strikes a brief left jab against the air before him, propelling a translucent manifestation of arcane energies ahead at high velocity. The missile takes on a shape reminiscent of a bird of prey as it hisses through the air and strikes the goblin square in the face, rippling cheeks caving in the creature's face before the blast dissipates into nothingness. Simultaneously, the javelin impales the little creature, and it falls to the ground, clutching the shaft of the weapon in a futile attempt to remove it and cling to life.
As the imminent threat seems clear, it is possible for those in the rapidly clearing courtyard to begin to take stock of the larger picture developing. The alarm has officially been raised, and sounds of fighting elsewhere in the town can be heard. Many have ran inside the Cathedral seeking shelter, others ran for home. Those less fortunate, lay dead or dieing amongst the carnage. Among them, Helgarr's lifeless form can be seen with several goblin bodies surrounding her. The feathered form of Eagle Eye is nearby as well, head removed from his shoulders and being carried through the crowd by a jubilant goblin.
Then, an even deeper threat realizes itself in the distance: smoke. Somewhere, something was burning.
Just then, a squeal of delight can be heard from a now familiar high pitched voice can be heard in the southern part of the courtyard. There, another band of goblins can be seen at the fireworks wagon. These ones brandishing torches. Amongst their number are a goblin lashing out at those few civilians still near with a whip, as well as one carrying what appears to be some sort of goblin made pole arm. One of their group has set a cat on fire and is dancing around the burning remains as a child looks on in terror nearby, his mother embracing him tightly trying to get him to flee. As the area clears between the two groups, the one brandishing the large blade points it at the group and calls out gleefully in its native tongue.
At the shouted command, the goblins all in unison turn to figure out who he meant, and as the looks of realization set in, it is quickly replaced with a sadistic glee as they charge forward, torches in the air. All save two, the one with the whip, and another, who decides to start a blaze at the fireworks cart...
__________
Google Drive: Map
Google Docs: Map
Eugeni moves to the side of the oncoming group of goblins, shooting another arrow at their apparent leader. The shaft strikes the goblin in its oblong head, wounding it badly.
_______________________
Miss
|
|
"More of them!?!" Kala says, grimacing, before breaking into a short prayer. "Iomedae, consecrate my arms and armor that I may protect the innocent." The warrior then retrieves her shield from her back and begins to move toward the oncoming goblins while strapping her shield to her right arm.
_______________________
|
|
Laughing like a mad dwarf at the slaughter he’s bringing about upon the goblins, Bærn looks around, sadly realizing that the goblins are all dead in his immediate vicinity. Instead, he spins around - becoming a whirling vision of steel and spikes to those looking - and spots the group of goblins bearing torches that appear to be charging a group of armed villagers.
Grinning from ear to ear, the dwarf starts running, his armor clanking madly as he does so - he comes barreling past the group, nearly skewering Alina with his spiked armor in the process, screaming at the top of his lungs, As he charges the charging group, the dwarf comes to a sudden halt, digging his armored boots into the dirt to stop himself just before the goblins, his armored, spiked, and menacing frame a new choice target for the little vandals.
______________________________________________________________________
Morythine shows his fangs ever so briefly as a tight grin stretches across his features. "More enemies . . ."
He launches into a run, skirting the edge of the square, dashing behind the festival stalls in an effort to get behind the goblins, one hand firmly holding his hat atop his head.
______________________________________________________
Run to V6.
Hold onto hat.
Losing Dex bonus due to running (or that's what Bærn says).
"Am I?" Alina responded as the goblin sprouted a javelin from its chest and exploded with magical energy. "Well I suppose you'd know better than me."
Shaking her head Alina's first thought once the immediate goblin menace was resolved was to clean off the goblin blood that had landed on her with a nice hot bath. That thought however was put on hold as Kala yelled a warning and the offensive dwarf nearly skewering her as he rushed past looking for more odors to add to his offensive scent. A shiver ran down her spine at the near collision with the dwarf and the thought of the smell rubbing off on her.
Repulsed, but so distracted that she failed to notice this new group of goblins seemed to be a bit more organized, Alina took stock of the new threat and frowned. The group was bunched up nicely and would have been easily dealt with if she'd not used her hypnotism spell to try and save a goblin earlier. Gods what was I thinking? She thought as she stepped back and wove a protective spell around herself. It wouldn't stop more blood from landing on her but it might twist a goblin dog slicer away from her.
------------------------------------------------------------
Still reeling from the shock of killing a real goblin, Zoli hears the sound of more coming through the crowd behind her. "There're MORE?"
Spinning around she drops her rapier in order to quickly load her sling and fires a bullet, clipping a goblin in the shoulder.
____________
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Eugeni moves to the side of the oncoming group of goblins, shooting another arrow at their apparent leader. The shaft strikes the goblin in its oblong head, wounding it badly.
"More of them!?!" Kala says, grimacing, before breaking into a short prayer. "Iomedae, consecrate my arms and armor that I may protect the innocent." The warrior then retrieves her shield from her back and begins to move toward the oncoming goblins while strapping her shield to her right arm.
Laughing like a mad dwarf at the slaughter he’s bringing about upon the goblins, Bærn looks around, sadly realizing that the goblins are all dead in his immediate vicinity. Instead, he spins around - becoming a whirling vision of steel and spikes to those looking - and spots the group of goblins bearing torches that appear to be charging a group of armed villagers.
Grinning from ear to ear, the dwarf starts running, his armor clanking madly as he does so - he comes barreling past the group, nearly skewering Alina with his spiked armor in the process, screaming at the top of his lungs, ”’Scuse meh, c’min’ through! I go’ Gobbin’s ta’ kill an’ yer in mah way!” As he charges the charging group, the dwarf comes to a sudden halt, digging his armored boots into the dirt to stop himself just before the goblins, his armored, spiked, and menacing frame a new choice target for the little vandals. ”Come on ya lil’ bugga’s! Ye wan’ some’n ta kill? Com’n git meh!”
Morythine shows his fangs ever so briefly as a tight grin stretches across his features. "More enemies . . ."
He launches into a run, skirting the edge of the square, dashing behind the festival stalls in an effort to get behind the goblins, one hand firmly holding his hat atop his head.
"Am I?" Alina responded as the goblin sprouted a javelin from its chest and exploded with magical energy. "Well I suppose you'd know better than me."
Shaking her head Alina's first thought once the immediate goblin menace was resolved was to clean off the goblin blood that had landed on her with a nice hot bath. That thought however was put on hold as Kala yelled a warning and the offensive dwarf nearly skewering her as he rushed past looking for more odors to add to his offensive scent. A shiver ran down her spine at the near collision with the dwarf and the thought of the smell rubbing off on her.
Repulsed, but so distracted that she failed to notice this new group of goblins seemed to be a bit more organized, Alina took stock of the new threat and frowned. The group was bunched up nicely and would have been easily dealt with if she'd not used her hypnotism spell to try and save a goblin earlier. ”Gods what was I thinking?” She thought as she stepped back and wove a protective spell around herself. It wouldn't stop more blood from landing on her but it might twist a goblin dog slicer away from her.
Still reeling from the shock of killing a real goblin, Zoli hears the sound of more coming through the crowd behind her. "There're MORE?"
Spinning around she drops her rapier in order to quickly load her sling and fires a bullet. Her projectile collides with the same goblin that was the recipient of Eugeni’s arrow, however, the metal bead managed to bury itself deep within the goblins ovoid skull. The apparent leader stops dead in his tracks, his horsechopper falling to the ground at his feet, as he slumps to his knees then face first into the dirt, causing the arrow to break beneath his miniscule frame.
The chanter continues it’s cruel song as it charges up the path.
Goblins cut and goblins fight.
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!
Goblins race and goblins jump.
Goblins slash and goblins bump.
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!
Chase the baby, catch the pup.
Bonk the head to shut it up.
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We be goblins! You be food!”
In the distance, more screams can be heard as well as more plumes of smoke rise up. The mother has managed to grab her child and drag him away from the vile scene, presumably running for the safety of home.
__________
"Heh heh heh!" Xamarath chortles merrily, admiring his own handiwork. His celebrations are cut off by an affront of goblinoid shrieking at his back however, and he turns to see another contingent of the little green bastards charging forward under the command of a chiefly annoying specimen of their kind. Having no clue what they are yelling, the Thayvian instead relies on body languages and sight to determine their strategy. The soaking, stinking dwarf seems more than equipped enough to deal with the surge of hand-to-hand combatants, and the wizard also notes the approaching strafe of that same black garbed stranger who ended one of the goblins with his bare hands—a martial artist of some sort, no doubt.
"Keep these veridian turds from reaching us, o pleasant smelling stoutsman, and I shall buy you a keg when we celebrate the deed." After calling out encouragements to Bærn's backside, his voice switches to a monotonous and forceful declaration of simple arcane phrases to work his potent evocations: ""
His strange gestures conclude with a downward swing of Xamarath's right hand, all fingers clenched save for his index and middle finger. A pair of cerulescent motes streak through the open sky like an arc of lightning, each impacting with severe force against the goblin that seeks to set fire to the wagon bearing the fireworks. As the magic concludes its purpose, Xamarath adds a debonair flourish, interposing himself between the assumed path of the goblins and that of Alina and Zoli with quarterstaff at the ready.
"Don't worry, lovelies—they won't lay a hand on either of you."
______________________________
>
"Heh heh heh!" Xamarath chortles merrily, admiring his own handiwork. His celebrations are cut off by an affront of goblinoid shrieking at his back however, and he turns to see another contingent of the little green bastards charging forward under the command of a chiefly annoying specimen of their kind. Having no clue what they are yelling, the Thayvian instead relies on body languages and sight to determine their strategy. The soaking, stinking dwarf seems more than equipped enough to deal with the surge of hand-to-hand combatants, and the wizard also notes the approaching strafe of that same black garbed stranger who ended one of the goblins with his bare hands—a martial artist of some sort, no doubt.
"Keep these veridian turds from reaching us, o pleasant smelling stoutsman, and I shall buy you a keg when we celebrate the deed." After calling out encouragements to Bærn's backside, his voice switches to a monotonous and forceful declaration of simple arcane phrases to work his potent evocations: "విధ్వంసం మోట్స్ను"
His strange gestures conclude with a downward swing of Xamarath's right hand, all fingers clenched save for his index and middle finger. A pair of cerulescent motes streak through the open sky like an arc of lightning, each impacting with severe force against the goblin that had set fire to the wagon bearing the fireworks, sending it flying backward and left unmoving in the grass beyond. As the magic concludes its purpose, Xamarath adds a debonair flourish, interposing himself between the assumed path of the goblins and that of Alina and Zoli with quarterstaff at the ready.
"Don't worry, lovelies—they won't lay a hand on either of you."
Unfortunately for the others who have charged the oncoming horde, they have no red robed savior to protect them. Seeing their leader fall, the rest pause only long enough to toss their torches aside and draw their dog slicers, then continue their advance in earnest to the longshanks in front of them. One splits off and rushes Morythine, but is unable to find purchase with his crude blade.
The rest rush towards the dwarf and the dog man. Baern's armor proves too stalwart a defense against their rudimentary weapons, but Eugeni's flesh is not as well protected. One finds an opening at his thigh, slicing a deep cut into the muscle tissue. Another thrusts upward into the taller man, sliding his blade beneath his armor and up into his rib cage.
Aside from the severe injuries Eugeni has suffered, in the distance, it can be seen that the fire the goblin started before being struck down by Xamarath's magic is starting to grow...
__________
|
|
"I don't like the looks of that chanting one. Might be a shaman or something," Kala thinks, deciding a course of action. "Hopefully that dwarf and Eugeni, Iomedae protect them, can hold them back for a few more seconds."
Her mind made up, Kala moves closer to the battle while drawing the second of her three javelins, and throws it at the chanting goblin. Just as she's about to release the javelin, Kala's toe catches on a loose rock and her shot sails badly wide.
_____________________________
"Aaah!" Eugeni cries after getting stabbed twice. He tries to do a back handspring away from the goblins but his injuries cause him to falter. They both swipe at him again with their crude blades. One of the dogslciers skids across Eugeni's chain armor and the other misses him completely. Once clear of the little psychopaths, Eugeni moves to put the stinky but heavily armored dwarf and his hammer between himself and the goblins.
Eugeni's head swims as blood flows freely from his wounds, matting his fur and making concentration difficult. F@&&! This sucks! I never imagined real battle would be this intense. I don't think I can keep going like this. Looking to the sky (though there was no particular need to do so), Eugeni calls out "Erastil...please...it hurts..." while clutching his sliced open abdominal cavity. For a moment nothing happens, and then a verdant hue bursts forth from between Eugeni's fingers. Tiny, sparkling, green lights not unlike fireflies and other insects swarm over and under his hand, as ethereal green vines spread across the wound pulling it back together. Eugeni grunts as the spell completes, knitting the flesh together and leaving only a crescent shaped, pink scar where the wound had been.
__________________________
Fail
Miss
Miss
Seeing the goblins start to hack into Eugeni, Zoli feels a very halfling fierceness rising in her blood. She’s about to charge forward to his aid when she sees him pull back and heal himself. Changing tactics she chants,
”Like Azlant did in days of yore,
Let’s see your butts smack on the floor!”
...And a thick pool of grease appears beneath the two goons who had attacked Eugeni.
____________
One of the goblins rushes at Morythine, but his cruel blade finds no purchase as the dhampir turns it aside with the back of his hand. Stepping back onto the balls of his feet, he launches his lightning fast ripostes. The first fist breaks the goblin's jaw, and Morythine notices briefly how the damage distorts the syllables of its offensive little song, until the second blow smashes through a rib and the goblin flops down to the floor.
He looks across to chanting goblin beyond. "I wonder how a sharp pinch to the throat would alter that thing's vocals . . .
________________________________________________________
Flurry of blows
Alina gave Xamarath a quick smile at his puffery. The man's magic was powerful but she had doubts as to how often he could produce his missiles. Of course at the rate the others in the crowd were dispatching goblins, it was entirely possible that none of the goblins would get close to where she stood.
"Well that's good to know." She responded in an all too calm voice as she stepped a little closer to the mayham. Then a bit of genuine surprise crosses her face as the halfling beside her created a pool of grease beneath two of the goblins. "Oh very good. Those poor goblins will be swimming in that for quite some time." Turning toward the one that looked as if it might actually remain standing she reinforced her claim. "I said you're going to fall."
Again her words were laced with magical doubt and caused the goblin to mistrust its own instincts. Just when it was about to regain its balance the creature flailed its arms around and practically threw itself into the grease under its feet. "That's better"
----------------------------------------------------------
Alina gave Xamarath a quick smile at his puffery. The man's magic was powerful but she had doubts as to how often he could produce his missiles. Of course at the rate the others in the crowd were dispatching goblins, it was entirely possible that none of the goblins would get close to where she stood.
"Well that's good to know." She responded in an all too calm voice as she stepped a little closer to the mayhem.
"I don't like the looks of that chanting one. Might be a shaman or something," Kala thinks, deciding a course of action. "Hopefully that dwarf and Eugeni, Iomedae protect them, can hold them back for a few more seconds."
Her mind made up, Kala moves closer to the battle while drawing the second of her three javelins, and throws it at the chanting goblin. Just as she's about to release the javelin, Kala's toe catches on a loose rock and her shot sails badly wide and bury itself in the table next to the man in the tricown hat.
"Aaah!" Eugeni cries after getting stabbed twice. He tries to do a back handspring away from the goblins but his injuries cause him to falter. They both swipe at him again with their crude blades. One of the dogslciers skids across Eugeni's chain armor and the other misses him completely. Once clear of the little psychopaths, Eugeni moves to put the stinky but heavily armored dwarf and his hammer between himself and the goblins.
Eugeni's head swims as blood flows freely from his wounds, matting his fur and making concentration difficult. ”F@!#! This sucks! I never imagined real battle would be this intense. I don't think I can keep going like this.” Looking to the sky (though there was no particular need to do so), Eugeni calls out "Erastil...please...it hurts..." while clutching his sliced open abdominal cavity. For a moment nothing happens, and then a verdant hue bursts forth from between Eugeni's fingers. Tiny, sparkling, green lights not unlike fireflies and other insects swarm over and under his hand, as ethereal green vines spread across the wound pulling it back together. Eugeni grunts as the spell completes, knitting the flesh together and leaving only a crescent shaped, pink scar where the wound had been.
Seeing the goblins start to hack into Eugeni, Zoli feels a very halfling fierceness rising in her blood. She’s about to charge forward to his aid when she sees him pull back and heal himself. Changing tactics she chants,
”Like Azlant did in days of yore,
Let’s see your butts smack on the floor!”
...And a thick pool of grease appears beneath the two goons who had attacked Eugeni.
A bit of genuine surprise crosses her face as the halfling beside her created a pool of grease beneath two of the goblins. "Oh very good. Those poor goblins will be swimming in that for quite some time." Turning toward the one that looked as if it might actually remain standing she reinforced her claim. "I said you're going to fall."
Again her words were laced with magical doubt and caused the goblin to mistrust its own instincts. Just when it was about to regain its balance the creature flailed its arms around and practically threw itself into the grease under its feet. "That's better"
One of the goblins rushes at Morythine, but his cruel blade finds no purchase as the dhampir turns it aside with the back of his hand. Stepping back onto the balls of his feet, he launches his lightning fast ripostes. The first fist breaks the goblin's jaw, and Morythine notices briefly how the damage distorts the syllables of its offensive little song, until the second blow smashes through a rib and the goblin flops down to the floor.
He looks across to chanting goblin beyond. "I wonder how a sharp pinch to the throat would alter that thing's vocals . . . “
The spiky dwarf takes a step back, and bellows something absolutely incomprehensible in his fury, swinging his weapon around and down towards one of the goblins that dared attack him. Unfortunately, he swings with such fury that he nearly loses the grip on his trusty longhammer, but manages to maintain hold.
The one singing the song never lets up it's tune, but moves towards the dhampir and strikes out with his whip. Fortunately for Morythine, he is unable to strike his person with the cord. Unfortunately for the goblin, it has likely done something far worse...as Morythine's hat falls from his head and lands about five feet behind him.
__________
Turning over his right shoulder, Xamarath looks to Eugeni and calls out over the raucous din of goblinoid screeching, chanting, and dying "Eugeni! I think there's a blazing wagon in need of that deluge trick of yours."
Xamarath begins hustling forward, adding "I'll make a path!" His feet skid to a halt several paces away from Bærn where his fingers begin tracing intricate shapes in the air before him. He intones loudly but carefully "" As he extends his hands palm out before him, fingers and thumbs connected to form a vague triangular opening between them, a rainbow hued eruption suddenly springs forward. It washes over the two goblins before the Thayvian, who go suddenly rigid and collapse to the ground unconscious. A self-satisfied smirk creeps across Xamarth's visage.
______________________________
>
>
>
>
>
>
Turning over his right shoulder, Xamarath looks to Eugeni and calls out over the raucous din of goblinoid screeching, chanting, and dying "Eugeni! I think there's a blazing wagon in need of that deluge trick of yours."
Xamarath begins hustling forward, adding "I'll make a path!" His feet skid to a halt several paces away from Bærn where his fingers begin tracing intricate shapes in the air before him. He intones loudly but carefully "మిరుమిట్లు స్పెక్ట్రమ్" As he extends his hands palm out before him, fingers and thumbs connected to form a vague triangular opening between them, a rainbow hued eruption suddenly springs forward. It washes over the two goblins before the Thayvian, who go suddenly rigid and collapse to the ground unconscious. A self-satisfied smirk creeps across Xamarth's visage.
Meanwhile, the other two goblins struggle to get to their own feet. Both manage to rise to their feet, but one is unfortunate enough to let his focus slip on Baern, who tries to redeem himself by trying to end the little goblin, but just misses as it slides past his attack.
__________
|
|
"Dwarf, fear not! I come to assist you!" Kala shouts as she charges toward the nearst goblin, drawing her broad shortsword as she runs. She suspects that the goblin will be paying more attention to her sword than her shield, so as she closes on it she instead tries to bash it with the shield, hoping to catch it off-guard.
Kala underestimated the creature however, and it avoids her attack with a deft sidestep and a swipe of its crude little sword.
_________________________
Adjustments in effect: Charge +2 to hit -2 AC. Current AC is 18 (11 T 15 FF).
Seeing Xamarath knock two goblins out cold in a swirl of color, Zoli nods appreciatively, ”Not bad!”
She then takes aim at one of the goblins as it struggles back onto it’s feet, thwacking it solidly in the belly.
____________
Morythine's composure is rather undermined as a javelin strikes the table just beside him, causing the pleasant display of apples, pears and other produce to dance into the air then roll into the dirt. Then something far worse than bruised fruits transpires - the monk is dehatted by the lash of a goblin whip!
Flinching as the sunlight touches his eyes, Morythine drops to a crouch, one hand reaching for his tricorn as the other fishes a throwing star from beneath his half-cloak and hurls it at his foe. The presumptuous goblin's chant falters as the spinning star lodges in its skull, but then the goblin just continues singing - a shuriken protruding from its scalp apparently insufficient to quell its racket.
_____________________________________________________
Draw shuriken
Throw shuriken
Retrieve hat!
Eugeni continues to move across the street, drawing up a bead on the chanter as he goes. He stops behind one of the tables at the side of the street to release his shaft. The arrow misses completely. "I think that fire's already too big for my little squirt, Xam!"
______________________________
Alina frowned as the two goblins managed to regain their footing without suffering a pounding from the dwarf and his hammer. The halfling’s sling certainly seemed to do some damage to one of them, but the witch felt confident they’d be better off if the dwarf’s weapon also connected. Pointing to the uninjured goblin’s shoes attempted to distract for the dwarf with another hex. ”Hey! Your boot came untied.”
She knew the hex was lame before she finished saying it, but hopefully it would provide the dwarf with enough of an opportunity to clobber the goblin.