Unbinding the Fetters - Disciples of Master Gond (Inactive)

Game Master Mark Sweetman

The rain is growing steadily heavier as you approach the narrow mountain pass the locals told you leads to the Monastery. It has been a few weeks since you first found out that Master Gond was admitting new disciples and set out to attempt selection. His reputation within the Inner Sea is well known amongst the militaristic orders and it is rare for him to offer an open call for disciples. Each for your own reasons, you have decided to answer the call and have travelled to the World’s Edge Mountains in Taldor.

In the distance you can see your destination, the Temple of the Master. Master Gond certainly chose an impressive location, though your limbs grow a little weary at the knowledge that you yet have a great height to ascend. As you turn a corner at the start of the pass, an obstacle presents itself.

Blocking the path is a thick set Mwangi standing impassively with arms crossed in the rain. He is wearing only a pair of brown linen trousers, belted with a red rope cord. His upper body is muscular, and covered in tattoos that seem to writhe and move – though when you level your gaze upon them they hold still. Sensing your approach, he holds up a hand ”Stop and state your business”

For this initial point you arrive separately, so each of you need to respond to the sentry.

Nisk rubs his arms and stamps his feet. It's damn cold on this mountain and he is not entirely happy with it in only his cloak and sleeveless shirt. As he looks up at the temple he is slightly struck by the sight.

So this is the place. Temple of the Master. Wonder what Stalle would say. The half-elf slogs through the mud on the path angrily. Wonder what wisdom this man has. Will it be the same as Stalle's? The same sort of "Protect the Innocent" crap that got him killed by a simple bunch of street thugs? The bitter tears sting at his large green eyes as he blinks them back. Hell I killed those boys. I know that old elf would have destroyed them in a second, but he'd never have killed them. That was their strength. They did anything to survive. I learned from you old friend, but some lessons are taught by harsher masters. He thinks of the white dragon which had caught him in the high peaks as he came, and scarred his face before he had brought it to the ground and snapped its neck. Even that creature had merit. I know the ways to place my strikes to most advantage, to strike harder, better. To move over the broken ice as fast as--

The man almost crashes into the Mwangi, looking up only upon hearing his voice. He studies the dark man for a moment, sizing him up, seeing his reach, his calm assurance, his unhesitance for the rain upon his face. Finally, Nisk looked in the man's eyes, and as he often did, he learned much there.

"I am Nisk Son-of-None." Nisk stated his bastard status proudly into the teeth of the driving rain, eyes even with the Mwangi's. "I come to train with Master Gond, who is said to have no equal in the art of combat without weapon or armor."

Nisk:

Smirking the Mwangi replies "I don't care who your parents are boy, the Master called for disciples... not vagrants. Go home."

The big human stomps through the mud slowly letting his fatigue show a little, but as soon as he see's the other man his instincts kick in. He stiffens up ready for a fight, cause in the pits if your not ready your dead. As the man questions him, Torgus stares down into the mwangi's eyes, "Your a big feller aren't you?" He then realizes the man doesn't recognize him, "WHAT NEWS OF MY FIGHTS HAVEN'T REACHED YOUR EARS? YOU ARE IN FOR A TREAT YOU STAND BEFORE THE CHAMPION OF BALLENWOOD, THE BRAWLING BEAR, TORGUS VOSS! Now go and annouce me to your master I wish not to wait long."

He stands in a stance overshadowing the man and showing off his championship belt.

Torgus:

Sizing up Torgus a moment before relaxing and replying sarcastically "We have no need of a dancing bear, perhaps you have come to the wrong place. Best you leave"

He points at the man, "HAHA, a monk boy with a sense of humor I can't believe it! But still you better watch yourself before this bear dances all over you. Now go fetch your Master for me."

He waves the man away.

Torgus:

The Mwangi unfolds his arms and separates his feet slightly, settling into a relaxed fighting stance. "You are welcome to try hairy one" He then raises a hand and beckons Torgus forward with a finger.

Bandogrim looked up at the large man and grinned from ear to ear. The little halfling stopped and stood straight-backed, his hairy feet set one next to the other. With a short, quick bow, the small man replied to the Mwangi before him.

"I have come to learn more of the ways of Irori. Those with knowledge of the god of self-perfection are few and fewer still, in my homeland. I am told that few are as knowledgeable in such matters as Master Gond, and as he does not accept new novitiates often, it would be remiss of me to pass up such an opportunity."

Studying the Mwangi, Bandogrim wondered if this was typical of Gond's students. It was difficult to tell much of the man without seeing him move, but such size and strength could certainly pose a problem, should the large man decide to bar the halfling's way. As one of Gond's men, the Mwangi would not likely be unskilled.

Bandogrim:

The Mwangi crouches in front of you to get to your eye level "And what of you makes you think that the Master would take you?"

Bandogrim smiled even wider at the sentry's action. Crouching so low was a sure sign that he had underestimated the halfling, should things come to blows, and the Mwangi's words seemed filled with purpose beyond simple intimidation. The question seemed genuine: Master Gond's instruction would be much sought after, and the old monk could not teach everyone who came to his doorstep.

"I am hard-working, dedicated, and quick to learn. And I do not come to him wholly unskilled-- I may not be the strongest, nor the quickest, but my technique is crisp and my strategy is sound."

Bandogrim:

"You can speak words, but you're clearly not what the Master is looking for. Come back when you've grown to be more than half a man" and the Mwangi straightens once more resuming his crossed arm stance.

Bandogrim chuckled at the Mwangi's slight, beginning to walk down the path towards the temple, once more.

"Half-a-man by height, to be sure, but twice-a-man in wits and skill. Thrice-a-man, if you're used for my comparison. I intend to continue on to the Temple. You are free to stop me, if you can."

Jarquin stops, trying to size the man up; certainly strong, but would he be as fast, being that size?

"I'm Jarquin Lariathon, and I am here to train under Master Gond," he says.

Bandogrim:

As you seek to move forward the Mwangi places one hand against your chest, stopping you before growling "Turn around little one, and go home. I do not respond well to insults..."

Jarquin:

Seeing the chain shirt that Jarquin is wearing, the Mwangi responds sardonically "I'm not sure the Master would be interested, hiding behind a metal curtain as you are... best you turn around and walk away"

"Then you're a better man than many." Nisk responds to the man's disregard for his parentage. "A vagrant? Perhaps. But I will step past. I will see the master. And should he choose to reject me I shall accept it and move to better pastures. I will not be stopped by his dog."

Sense Motive:1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17

Is this a part of the training? Or is he another student, wishing to stop competition? Nisk begins to step past the man, readying himself for if the man moves.

Brushing the large man's hand away, Bandogrim laughs openly before the sentry.

"Amazing that such a big, tough man as yourself could be so easily wounded. If your skin is so quick toward bruising as your pride, then I'm thrice your match physically as well as mentally. Perhaps Master Gond will assign your duty to me, after he takes me on as a student..."

Nisk:

You sense that the Mwangi is testing you in one way or another, and you get a feeling that he is not a student...

Before you can react, the Mwangi unfolds his arms and lashes out with lightning speed striking you across the face with an open hand. The blow stings, but it was clear that he did not put any weight behind it. Holding the striking hand out pointing his index finger at you "The first is kind, the second will be less so. Turn around and leave, I'll not let you waste the Master's time - it's clear you aren't worthy"

Bandogrim:

As you reach up to brush at the Mwangi's hand he gives you a subtle push, sending you off balance before he whips his right knee up delivering a powerful front kick that sends you reeling backwards a good 15 feet before you regain your balance.

Bull Rush: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (14) + 16 = 30

Adopting an aggressive fighting stance the Mwangi growls "Arrogance is unbecoming. Turn and walk away, the Master has no need of you"

Bandogrim's grin sagged a bit as he realized that he was not the only one being underestimated, here. Strong, quick, and not unskilled, to be sure. But the halfling decided he had little choice in the matter-- if the guard was set on defending the pass by force, Bandogrim would need to answer in kind.

Slipping into his defensive stance, the little man prepared himself for a fight.

"I daresay he has more need of me than of you, friend. I'd rather not have to hurt you on my way to the Temple, but if you try to strike me again, you'll force my hand."

Bandogrim's defensive stance utilizes the Crane Style feat. If he has time to fully set himself, he takes the Total Defense action.

"Be that as it may, friend, I have travelled too far to be turned away by any but the master himself," Jarquin replies bluntly.

"I am only leaving here in one of two ways: that way," he continues, motioning in the direction he's been travelling, "or that way," he finishes, pointing straight down.

"HAHA, mistake number one my friend! You should of striked first!" With that Torgus just gives the man a vicious right cross.

Unarmed strike:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22
Damage:1d6 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Torgus's motto, beat them down first then ask questions hehe.

Blocking the path is a thick set Mwangi standing impassively with arms crossed in the rain. He is wearing only a pair of brown linen trousers, belted with a red rope cord. His upper body is muscular, and covered in tattoos that seem to writhe and move – though when you level your gaze upon them they hold still. Sensing your approach, he holds up a hand ”Stop and state your business”

The rain made Cassadar smile. While many shunned the rain, he welcomed the falling rain as another lesson, travelling much of the path with his eyes closed, listening to the fall of the rain, though he does check his steps every now and again. It was almost a dance to him, finding footing in the rain and over wet ground, and a stumble does not bother him in the slightest, just something to note, correct, and learn from, shifting his balance to compensate. That did not mean that he was not taking some protection from the rain, the hood of his cloak up, and his staff held easily in his hand. The lightning and thunder were friends to him, and he laughed joyfully.

The order to stop was impolite, so he responded with equal courtesy, not pausing in his steps, simply changing his angle to pass around him. "As well one would ask the clouds to cease their rain, or the wind to blow, without courtesy, one is assured of nothing." He did lift a hand to meet the other's wrist to gauge him as he attempted to pass, though having him retract his hand would not surprise him.

Not sure if this will escalate into a combat situation, but if passing provokes, he has Mobility.

Nisk reels from the slap, immediately dropping to a combat crouch and moving about 20 feet back, his eyes angry. "What kind of test is this?" He demands in a growl. "Is it simple combat? If so, simply tell me so that I can beat you into this mountain and move forward. What need I do to get by?" Nisk's rage shows in his face easily though his head is still clear. Confront him with his true motives, and find whether he flinches.

Bandogrim:

The Mwangi does not follow you, but remains in place. "Such brave words from one that cowers trying to protect itself. You'll not pass me standing still"

Jarquin:

Smirking slightly the Mwangi replies "I've no wish to kill you..." cracking his knuckles "But if that's the way you'd prefer to leave, so be it. You'll not be passing"

Torgus

The Mwangi weaves out of the way of your strike before trapping your punching arm with one arm, the other slipping around your neck.
Grapple: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (16) + 18 = 34 as standard action.
"You are weak, and not worthy. Give up. Stop struggling and I'll let you run home to your wet nurse" It seems like he's leaving you an opening to attack.....

Cassadar:

As you pass the Mwangi, he reaches out to stop you in your tracks...
AoO with Stand Still feat: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (1) + 16 = 17
...momentarily surprised as you evade his hands, he turns to follow. Bearing you down in a bear hug from behind..
Grapple: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (19) + 18 = 37 - follow up to pin as move action: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (2) + 18 = 20
...he takes a good grip on both your arms, securing them behind your back. "You're slippery, but even a greased eel can be caught. We don't take kindly to trespassers... Stop struggling and I'll send you back down the pass."

Nisk:
Update to come tonight - my son just woke up from his nap :)

The smile dropped from Bandogrim's face, entirely, a rare look of stoicism overtaking his usually jovial visage.

"As you wish, then."

With deftness and speed, the halfling shifted his weight forward into an aggressive stance. His eyes darted from point to point over the Mwangi's form, searching for weaknesses and openings. When he found the vulnerability, the sly grin returned to his lips, and Bandogrim Cotton advanced.

SWIFT: Switches from Crane to Mantis Style.
STANDARD: Spends a Ki point to utilize True Strike.
MOVE: Advances into range of the Mwangi.

"Then so be it. I'll see to it that you get a decent burial if you'll promise the same," Jarquin says sadly. He moves to throw the first punch; a vicious strike aimed at the kidney.

Swift Action: Enter Dragon Style
Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Damage: 1d3 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Sneak Attack (if he's flat footed)2d6 ⇒ (6, 1) = 7

Nisk:

The Mwangi doesn't speak or respond except to offer a smirk, before you charge forward in an attack. Your knee strikes the Mwangi solidly in the stomach as he is unable to evade it, though the force of the blow barely fazes him.

Reaching around Nisk with his hands the Mwangi enacts a bear hug, squeezing tightly to pin Nisk's arms to his body and restrict his movement.

Grapple: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (19) + 18 = 37 followed by move action to pin: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (11) + 18 = 29

With the Mwangi's thick arms pressing him tightly to his chest he chuckles "An angry one..."

Bandogrim:

The Mwangi smiles as Bandogrim approaches, before reaching out with his right hand...

Grapple: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (1) + 18 = 19

...failing to get a grip on Bandogrim.

Jarquin:

Jarquin attacks though a twist by the Mwangi means his strike glances off the body. The Mwangi drops down and sweeps your legs with his own...

Trip attack: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (1) + 16 = 17

...though you are quick enough to jump and avoid being sent to the floor.

Heh, if the Mwangi keeps rolling this 'well' one of you might even make it past him.
That's three nat 1s so far.

Jarquin lands lightly on his feet, only a little surprised by the speed of the large man in front of him. He throws another punch at his opponent's jaw but misses; it was never intended to hit, merely to create an opening in his opponent's stance.

Feint: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

Jarquin:

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (10) + 16 = 26

The Mwangi easily sees through your feint, before he takes a more direct approach. Reaching down with one hand he wrenches your right leg upwards, seeking to unbalance you again...

Trip attack: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (20) + 16 = 36

...and managing to send you sprawling before him. "Crawl away little one... before you get hurt."

Jarquin climbs back to his feet, dusting himself off.

"Not happening," he replies, before returning to the attack; attempting to grab the Mwangi by the arm in order to twist it behind his back. He really hopes that he's right and this is just a test; and that he isn't in the middle of getting himself beaten to death...

Grapple: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

"Damn right I'm angry." Nisk contorts his body upward, attempting to pull his arms away by moving aside, but the man has far too strong a grip. Gods, he took my strike like it was a leaf hitting him.

Grapple attempt to disengage:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Sure that didn't work. Damn.

Jarquin:

As you stand the Mwangi kicks you in the stomach...
AoO: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (19) + 13 = 32 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
...knocking the wind out of you. You reach out and get a hold of his arm, but through brute strength he stops you from being able to move it out of position. Slapping you across the face he delivers a front kick aimed at sending you stumbling back down the path...
Bullrush: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (1) + 16 = 17
...though his kick slips off your armor. "You'll not survive a day if that is all you have, go home"

Have faith ;) - and four natural ones and counting...

Nisk:

Chuckling the Mwangi tightens his grip, squeezing the air out of your lungs...
Maintain Grapple for damage - standard: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (3) + 18 = 21 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Maintain Grapple for damage - move: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (8) + 18 = 26 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Maintain Grapple for damage - swift action (Rapid Grapple): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (16) + 18 = 34 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8 for 25 damage total.
...sparkles start to show in your sight and you notice blackness at the edge of your vision. "Last chance to leave..."

Nisk snarls only two words. "Go. Die." and again attempts to make a move out of the grapple.

Grapple Escape:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Jarquin attempts to grab hold of the Mwangis leg as it slides off of his shirt, his intention being to twist it painfully if he does so. However that turns out, he says, "Forward or down, friend; forward or down."

Grapple roll: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
Damage: 1d3 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Dodging under the large man's grasp, Bandogrim finds his target and strikes out. Driving forward off his right leg, the halfling throws a cross directly at the Mwangi's liver…

Stunning Fist (+20 from True Strike, -4 fighting defensively) 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (15) + 24 = 39
Damage 1d6 ⇒ 6
If hit, the Mwangi must make a Fort vs DC 19 or be Fatigued
SWIFT: Back to Crane Stance.

Cassadar:

As you pass the Mwangi, he reaches out to stop you in your tracks...
AoO with Stand Still feat: 17
...momentarily surprised as you evade his hands, he turns to follow. Bearing you down in a bear hug from behind..
Grapple: 37- follow up to pin as move action: 20
...he takes a good grip on both your arms, securing them behind your back. "You're slippery, but even a greased eel can be caught. We don't take kindly to trespassers... Stop struggling and I'll send you back down the pass."

Escape Artist: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

It took a slight shift for him to find the right angle, but his footing was not so solid that his attacker could not shift, and every little shift added up. A slight movement of his foot changed his balance, pushed a bit further by Cassadar, making his grip have to change slightly, and there was an opportunity to slip loose, and slip free.

In truth, he was becoming angry, but he knew anger would not help, and giving in to it interrupted his pursuit of Wind and Water. He would be more angry with himself if that happened. The hood of his cloak had fallen back, and his short hair was disheveled, mud along one side of his face.

Nisk:

As you squirm unable to free yourself the Mwangi chuckles "Perhaps in time, but not today" as he holds the bear hug a few moments more...
Grapple - standard action: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (2) + 18 = 20 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Grapple - move action: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (9) + 18 = 27 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13 - non-lethal
...and you go limp beneath his arms consciousness fading away as he drops you to the ground. The last thing you see before all is black is a couple of men in monk's robes coming down the path from behind the Mwangi.

No need for stabilize rolls or anything of the like, you'll progress when the others catch up

Bandogrim:

Your strike lands home on the Mwangi's side...
Fort Save: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30
...though he shrugs off it's effects easily. "So the little rabbit has some teeth after all" as he reaches for you...
Grapple: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (10) + 18 = 28
...grabbing each of your arms at the elbow with his fists. He slips behind you, placing a knee against your back and pulling your arms towards himself roughly...
Grapple - move action for damage: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (8) + 18 = 26 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Grapple - swift action for damage: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (20) + 18 = 38 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
...your back and arms scream in agony as they are wrenched out of their natural position. "You can still hop away home..."

Jarquin:

Remember that the first grapple check only initiates the grapple, you can't cause any damage through it.

Shrugging off Jarquins attempt at grappling him, the Mwangi clotheslines him with one arm and seeks to establish a scissor hold around his torso...
Grapple: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (13) + 18 = 31
Grapple - move action to damage: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (3) + 18 = 21 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
Grapple - swift action to damage: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (8) + 18 = 26 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
...squeezing him betwixt his legs as Jarquin feels his ribs about to crack. As he starts to black out, Jarquin sees a couple of men in monk's robes come walking down the path toward him. His final memory is the Mwangi's voice "Your choice elf, remember that"

You're now in a holding pattern with Nisk until the others catch up.

Cassadar:

Despite his squirming, Cassadar is unable to break the Mwangi's grip. Growling into his ear "If you're looking for kindness, best to leave... you'll find none here." The Mwangi squeezes you tightly within the bear hug....
Grapple check for damage: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (17) + 18 = 35 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
...and Cassadar feels his insides compressed painfully. "We don't want you, stop wriggling and run away home"

Grunting in pain, Bandogrim struggles against the large man's grip, throwing his head backward in an attempt to smash the bridge of the guard's nose...

SWIFT: Mantis Stance again.
Grapple Check 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
If successful, foregoes escape for a Stunning Fist attempt
Stunning Fist 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Damage 1d6 ⇒ 2
If successful, Fort vs DC 19 or Stunned for a round.

Bandogrim:

The Mwangi is too far back for your head to make contact, so your head hits only air. "As you wish" the Mwangi jerks his arms that you think might dislocate your shoulders...
Grapple for damage: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (14) + 18 = 32 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
....Your resolve gives out and your body goes limp. Between the Mwangi dropping you to the ground and you blacking out, you catch a glimpse of two men in brown robes approaching from further up the pass.

Three down and two to go :)

When the Mwangi grapples him, a smile grows on Torgus's face and he yells,
"Good your strong! You going to make this fight worth the trip!"
With that the big man's muscles start to bulge out, and moves to take control follwed by a elbow.

Starting my controlled rage(+4 to str)
Grapple check to gain control1d20 + 13 ⇒ (7) + 13 = 20
Followed by a Unarmed strike:1d20 + 13 ⇒ (18) + 13 = 31
Damage:1d6 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Torgus:

The attempt to gain control of the grapple is a standard action, so you wouldn't be able to follow up with an unarmed strike.

The Mwangi easily resists your attempt to reverse the grapple, "Strength is nothing without control" before tightening his chokehold...
Grapple - standard to damage: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 18 + 5 = 43 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Grapple - move to damage: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 18 + 5 = 29 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Grapple - swift to damage: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 18 + 5 = 34 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

...his grip is slowly restricting blood flow to your head and you start feeling woozy. "Back to the circus dancing bear. Tap out and I'll let you leave"

Just remembered that I've been forgetting to add the +5 for maintaining the grapple in rounds after the first.

Cassadar:

Despite his squirming, Cassadar is unable to break the Mwangi's grip. Growling into his ear "If you're looking for kindness, best to leave... you'll find none here." The Mwangi squeezes you tightly within the bear hug....
Grapple check for damage: 1d20+18(35) for 1d10+4(10)
...and Cassadar feels his insides compressed painfully. "We don't want you, stop wriggling and run away home"

Escape Artist:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

If he could get space.. With space, things could be different. If he could establish space. Defeating this human was not what he needed to do, reaching the temple was what he needed to do.

Cassadar:

As you attempt to escape you manage to almost slip your arms free a couple of times and sense a hint of desperation in the Mwangi's attempt to keep control of you, but you are unable to slip his grasp. Slipping his hands to your arms, he places a knee in the small of your back and bends the trunk of your body unnaturally...
Grapple to damage: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 18 + 5 = 42 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Grapple to damage - move action: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 18 + 5 = 39 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
...pain flooding your senses, your body goes limp and the Mwangi drops you. "You'll meet the rest of we soon enough" The last memory before the curtain of black falls is of two men in brown robes descending the pass towards you and the Mwangi.

Just need the big bear to join you and I'll roll on to the next segment.

Torgus strangely has a smirk on his face, "Fun.......Thi....ss...fu.un."

As he gurgles out his comments he slams his elbow in the man's side.

Attack:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19already took the -2 for being grappled
Damage:1d6 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Torgus:

The Mwangi twists his torso making your elbow slide off his side without making solid contact. He then continues to constrict your neck...
Grapple - standard to damage: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 18 + 5 = 26 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Grapple - move to damage: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 18 + 5 = 27 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 - non-lethal
Grapple - swift to damage: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 18 + 5 = 40 for 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11 - non-lethal
...choking out your resistance. As your mind goes to sleep, the last thing it sees is two brown robed men approaching from further up the path.

All Together Now:

After some time has passed, you are not sure if it was minutes or hours, you awaken on a threadbare bed in a small room. While you still have a pounding headache, your injuries seem healed for the most part and all of your equipment is still with you.

The room you are in is spartan in its decoration and contains about twelve beds, though only five are currently occupied. There are no windows, and light is provided by an oil lamp on a small sidetable. There is a single entryway, though the door is currently closed.

The five occupants of the beds are you.

"Ow..." Jarquin groans as he slowly rises. When the headache subsides, he thinks back to when he blacked out, and recalls the two monks who showed up right at the end. "So it was just a test..."

Cassadar's eyes were open as soon as he was conscious enough to do so. He groaned loudly as he sat up, trying to sort out how much of him was hurt. Certainly, he was not inclined to move, and sitting up was enough that he sighed, shaking his head. 'I handled that poorly. I should have continued to evade him.' At least he was not unconscious anymore. He always hated unconsciousness. A frown was on his face at the aches that still lingered, he did give a nod of greeting to Jarquin, seeing the others on the various pallets, but not awake yet.

I know that Nisk has limited access for a couple of days - so just waiting on Bandogrim and Torgus to wake up and say hello :)