Tyr quickly gives up on chasing the stranger. A six foot tall, solidly built human male in full chain mail is no match in speed for a lyther framed and lighter armored quarry.

Shaking his head he returns to the group. Seeing Havrin's wounds, Try as well lays hands upon his companion.

Cure light wounds1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

"I think we should take some evidence of this attack with us to the captain's father's house as proof that the dark-skinned attackers from the ship are also here in Midsky," Havrin says grimly

"We should also be careful not to drip too much gore onto our guests home, hopefully we will meet the head butler upon our arrival at the doors and these trophies can be better cared for." He adds.

"Did any one get a good look at our assailant? Was that one of these 'Dark beings' who attacked your ship? He asks.

Havrin, studying these creatures you are pretty confident that these are very similar to worgs you may have fought before, with a few exceptions. They seem to be a mite larger, their fangs are a pallid blue, and their fur is pitch rather than a dark gray. Taking their heads is no easy feat but Tyr is able to hack through their thick vertebrae and create a morbid set of trophies for the group.

After what seems like a mile of walking, you come upon a clearing in the woods. A large stone mansion extends above the forest canopy, a small path of pavers leading the way from the forest's edge. An enormous wooden door dominates a rounded, protruding entryway. Many large, semi-circular stone steps lead up to the door, where the nose ring of a bronze boar's face acts as a knocker. Night has settled in, bringing almost complete darkness. Eerie green and blue orbs light the large building's many windows, lending an otherworldy glow to the forest clearing.

"Well, let's not be awaitin' out here all night."
Sirsi steps up and knocks on the door.

Seeing Havrin's wounds, Tyr as well lays hands upon his companion.

Cure light wounds1d8+1

"Did any one get a good look at our assailant? Was that one of these 'Dark beings' who attacked your ship? He asks.

With those words, Havrin checks that everyone else is ready and, hoisting one of the heads under his arm, begins walking toward the house. He manages to keep from staggering too much as the small party approaches the great stone mansion. As the group reaches the door, Havrin whispers to Sirsi, "You wouldn't happen to know one of those minor spells that could clean us up a bit, would you? I hate to think of the impression we will make in our current condition."

Antal overhearing Havrin's question to Sirsi jumps up and down. "I know one of those spells. They are really simple!" He begins muttering under his breath and casts his spell, cleaning everyone up from their bloody encounter in the woods. Grinning at his handiwork he crosses his arms and nods. "Yep, not too bad. A bard taught me that trick."

PRESTIDIGITATION! I love that word, so few uses for it in the real world so many uses for the spell in the game world.

Antal overhearing Havrin's question to Sirsi jumps up and down. "I know one of those spells. They are really simple!" He begins muttering under his breath and casts his spell, cleaning everyone up from their bloody encounter in the woods. Grinning at his handiwork he crosses his arms and nods. "Yep, not too bad. A bard taught me that trick."

PRESTIDIGITATION! I love that word, so few uses for it in the real world so many uses for the spell in the game world.

Clean as a whistle, you approach the mansion, and as Sirsi moves to grab the large knocker, the door opens inward to reveal a simple-looking elven woman in a fine linen dress. "You have been expected. Please, enter." As the door opens wide to admit you, you see her mutter a couple words and tap her fingers together, followed by a gentle whispering sound. "You may leave your trophies outside, the master has been shown your plight."

You find yourselves in a large antechamber, the ceiling of which the lot of you couldn't touch if each of you were standing on the other's shoulders. A few small tables hold vases brimming with exotic flowers, and items of inscrutable origin. A pair of large paintings adorn either wall. On one side, a towering castle sits on a verdant plain, reaching high into the sky. On the other, many elves are seated at a large wooden table, seemingly engaged in conversation. A single wooden door stands in a domed wall on the far side of the chamber. "Please wait, the master will see you presently."

The far door opens, and an Elven man of indeterminate age strides through. "Nilla, please tend to the table, and spare our guests your formalities." The woman shoots him a searing look and hurries out of the room, while the man chuckles softly. "I apologize for Nilla, she takes her position very seriously. I am getting ahead of myself though, I am Illyen, this is my home. And you are my daughters' friends," he says with certainty. "please come and sit, my cook is the finest in all of Midsky, you will not be disappointed." He walks back through the large door, into an enormous domed hall. The hall is roughly 100 feet in diameter, in the center sits a fine mahogany table with exactly six matching chairs. Five of the chairs are large, with high backs and cushy velvet upholstery. One of the chairs has two steps leading to the seat, which seems to be set a little higher than the others. The table is set with every dish you can imagine, prepared with exotic looking herbs that smell savory and delightful. Duck, boar, small hens, venison, and many other meats of creatures that cannot be readily identified, as well as loafs of bread in myriad shapes, rolls, and a garnish or sauce accompanying each dish. Numerous vegetable dishes dot the table, and a large bowl in the center contains at least twenty different types of fruit. On the west wall are three tables, one waist level, one at knee level, both containing ornate wash basins, and one more table containing fine linen towels. On the east wall a large pile of cushions is partially surrounded by a large couch. "Your Captain will be here shortly, please, make yourselves comfortable." He accompanies the word "Captain" with a bemused smirk, bows to you, and walks into one of the many doors that dot the domes walls.

Looking around at all the finery, Sirsi wishes she'd had a chance to doll herself up a little.

Tyr ponders Havrin's comments, though he also quietly presses one hand over his wounded arm, glad that the money spent upon his armor has re-aid the investment, the bright silver metal of the links is no more than drool and blood marked. These slight stains being removed by Antal's spell.

Cure Light Wounds on self:1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

"Thank you friend Antal." Tyr speaks quietly to the half ling as the group is met and 'gret' by on of the manors inhabitants. As the Elf woman's company if replaced by that of Illyen, the master of the house, Tyr takes his time to survey the surroundings.

Knowledge Nobility Check:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Using his knowledge he stands at ease, ready to 'relax' into the prestigious company and give hints and clues to his comrades, should they need it.

Awaiting our hosts arrival, trying to be 'suave' and 'debonair' as only a thuggish fighter can. :P ;)

Antal does a little bow full of flourish to Tyr at his thanks. "No problem new friend!"

Once inside the dining hall, Antal's mouth drops and he quickly wipes the drool from his face. Shaking his head and sadly realizing that he should probably wait to eat till the Captain arrives he looks down the doors Illyen left. Turning to his new friends and crewmates he begins barraging them with questions. "Why do you suppose he smirked at the mention of the Captain? And where do you suppose she is? You don't think she was attacked too do you? Oh did you guys find out anything at the library? Did you meet anyone interesting? There are lots of really interesting people in this city!"

As Antal is being brought up to speed by the party, a tap is heard on the dome's roof, and another shortly follows. Before long a hundred tiny taps are sounding off continuously on the metallic roof, creating a low hum inside the large room. This gentle roll soon gives way to a furious rumble, and before long, thunder crashes overhead, the sound magnified by the room's shape. A door opens, and Illyen enters, though he has traded his loose robes for a suit of light leather armor, and is carrying a leather satchel.

Approaching the party, he speaks in a measured fashion, softly; "Illia will be arriving presently. I had hoped we would have more time, but it seems time itself is conspiring against us-" As he speaks, the dome's front door crashes open, and a figure emerges from the darkness, dripping rain. Lightning crashes outside, and the antechamber lights up, revealing Illia, holding a rapier in her left hand and a small buckler in the other. Illyen continues, "I am sorry to break our dinner short, but more pressing matters have...arrived. I am sure Illia will explain everything, but I must make preparations and see to the Lord. These are from my personal cache-" he tosses the satchel to Havrin "-they will help you in the months to come." As he says this, his eyes glow slightly, and the hand that had been outstretched falls limply by his side. He continues- "One of you will die - one of you will be reborn. One of you will fall a very long way, but the climb will not be as difficult as you think. All of you will fail, but one of you will succeed. Though you are not of the Six - you will meet one, and save all of them." He shakes himself out of his trance, a look of sadness in his eyes. "My apologies, an old habit. I must take my leave, the Lord needed my help minutes ago." He bows lightly to you and walks calmly out into the night. Illia puts away her rapier, and shares a quick embrace and a few whispered words with her father before approaching the group.

Somberly dressed in a flowing gray robe which sways to reveal leather armor, her eyes reveal her fury. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but our dinner has been canceled. I do not have my father's gift, and had no idea there were more Dark Elves in the city. We must leave - now. The Enemy approaches." As she says this, multiple crashes are heard beyond the dome, the sounds of shattered glass. "My father's assistants are very capable, they should be able to repel the invaders until they realize we've left. We must hurry for the Dervish!"

"Of course, my lady," Havrin says as he limps over to join the captain. "I really wish I'd had a chance to purchase a wand of healing earlier today," he thinks to himself as he quaffs his final healing potion.

Cure Light Wounds Potion: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Havrin slings the satchel over his shoulder (hopefully it has a strap so that he can have both hands free to wield either his long bow or greatsword). With a grim expression, he draws his bow and nocks an arrow, expecting to be attacked by dark elves at any moment.

Tyr faces Illyen's prophesying stoically. Remaining calm and relaxed through out the encounter. When Illya approaches and speaks his face grows stern

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but our dinner has been canceled. I do not have my father's gift, and had no idea there were more Dark Elves in the city. We must leave - now. The Enemy approaches." As she says this, multiple crashes are heard beyond the dome, the sounds of shattered glass. "My father's assistants are very capable, they should be able to repel the invaders until they realize we've left. We must hurry for the Dervish!"

"It would appear time to put my training to the fullest test." He gives a short half bow.

"Lead on, I am prepared to follow." His gaze shifting to cover the rest of the room, looking off towards the sounds of conflict further away.

Hmmm, would appear our dark skinned assailants offer us no time for rest nor repast. Tyr has cast his two healing spells for the day.

Rapier in hand, Sirsi has a last look at the table & sighs... "Well, off we trot then."

I have some magic left should anyone be still injured.

Antal sighs heavily at he gazes longingly at the uneaten food, then shaking his hunger off he runs up to the captain grinning like normal. He bows and gestures towards the door, "Well, shall we be off my lady?"

If Havrin has a chance, he will look in the satchel to see if there is anything that can be immediately useful to the party (particularly a wand of healing or potions of healing). If this is not possible, Havrin will ask Sirsi to cast whatever healing magics she may have left on either him or Tyr. It looks like Tyr has about 3/4 of his hit points remaining, while Havrin has about 2/3 of his remaining.

If we're leaving hurriedly I might not get chance immediately but as soon as I get a moment I'll heal up Tyr & Havrin. I'll use one spell on each of them and keep my last for emergencies
1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4 Tyr
1d8 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7 Havrin
Hopefully that should do us until we get somewhere secure.

1d8+3 Havrin
Hopefully that should do us until we get somewhere secure.

"My thanks, Sirsi," he says solemnly with a nod of appreciation to the bard.

After Sirsi casts her magic over Tyr, he does little more than nod. His attention focused on the immediate task at hand.

Namely defending his companions and defeating the enemy. He takes a steop closer towards Illia.

"Come, speed may be our best ally in reducing the 'surprise' of our assailants.' Tyr's voice is cast low, the better to keep their conversations private and away from the ears of the enemy.

"Which way, m'Lady?" He asks of Illia.

"To the Dervish. We must check on the ship, and ensure the Sidhat has not been overtaken. They may try again for an air vessel. As for a specific direction, we will take the most direct route through the Realm." She leads down the dark forest path, although it ends after a mere hundred yards this time. At the end of the trail is a small creature with dark skin and large pointy ears. Hunched over, it seems to be poking at the glittering pavers with a small dagger, unsuccessfully trying to pry out a red gem. Alerted at your foot steps, it snaps it's head quickly to face you. Large incandescent blue eyes widen with surprise, but the look quickly fades to one of malice as it's mouth opens to reveal a surprisingly neat row of razor sharp blue teeth. Illia steps into the blow; the creature barely has time to register her rapier piercing it's gut. But it does cry out, opening it's mouth wider and revealing a pair of wicked fangs. "There will be more, we must hurry!"

As Illia cleans her blade, numerous footsteps are heard down the path from Illyen's manse. Illia urges you onward, leading through the backyards of the Noble's homes, a faux pas in any other instance. Living statues, floating gazer eyes, and sentient plants all attempt to harrow your progress, as well as the occasional crude arrow. Tailed by a small army of little dark-skinned creatures and worgs, you finally burst through a final hedge row near the Realm's ancient castle. Across from the castle the entrance to the guard house stands wide open...and little else. Though the large walls that meet the Midsky Guardian's barracks still stand on either side, the building between them looks as though a dragon was set loose on it. Still, it is the only exit from the Noble Realm that you know of. Even so, another platoon of pointy-eared creatures stands between you and the wrecked building, finishing what looks to be the remnants of the Midsky Guard. You have little time to consider the chaos, as your pursuers sound a warcry - you have been found!

Tyr couches his great sword upon one shoulder, glares at the assembled horde and says,

"Form up behind me. We make a wedge and drive through!" So saying he sets himself for a charge.

"This is the sort of thing I've trained for, 'Assault Marine' aboard ship. I only wish I could have brought the rest of my armor." He glances over his shoulder towards Illia, "But then such is not suitable formal wear, M'lady." He adds witha rueful grin.

"I say we from a wedge and use my mass (and hit points) to drive through these smaller troops before the reinforcements arrive to surround us."

So, does that sound like a viable plan?

The reinforcements are already upon you Tyr, and there is little time for preparation! You must act!

The reinforcements are already upon you Tyr, and there is little time for preparation! You must act!

The other posters may do whatever they wish, you just describe in general what your character will be doing, like any other battle but without a plethora of dice rolls, tactical movement, and specific actions. Your idea of charging in with your greatsword and suggesting a wedge was a good start, roll a d20. The other players can follow you, or not, or do something completely wild an original. Just have fun with it!

*bows* Looks to other posters. "Lets get to it." :)

"Agreed".
Suggest we form up as
. .T
I A S H

That way Tyr will take the bulk, Illia & Havrin are the better fighters and take flanks,
Antal and I are a bit more squishy, so we stay in the middle (we're hardly unexposed but that's not an option here) and offer support.
I'll use Bardic Music/Inspire Courage as much as I can, if it runs out/seems to be making no difference I'll switch to combination of fighting & seeing if I can use Dancing Lights in combination with Bluff to keep some opponents away.

"Agreed".
Suggest we form up as
. .T
I A S H

That way Tyr will take the bulk, Illia & Havrin are the better fighters and take flanks,
Antal and I are a bit more squishy, so we stay in the middle (we're hardly unexposed but that's not an option here) and offer support.
I'll use Bardic Music/Inspire Courage as much as I can, if it runs out/seems to be making no difference I'll switch to combination of fighting & seeing if I can use Dancing Lights in combination with Bluff to keep some opponents away.

Antal attempts to run behind the others, his small legs making it difficult to keep up. As he moves he freezes the rain falling around them and sends it at the enemies within the party's line of movement.

Antal will attempt to move up as suggested by Sirsi while casting Magic Missile, Cold Ray, and (if need be) Ray of Frost, if I run out of spells and Cold Ray usage, as I go. 1d20 ⇒ 7

I apologize for my tardiness, give thanks to the lovely Sirsi and present my roll.1d20 ⇒ 18

Havrin joins the formation as suggested by Tyr and Sirsi.

As long as is feasible, Havrin fires arrows from his mighty bone bow, skewering any enemies before they can accost the small band. Note that his Precise Shot feat removes any penalty for shooting into melee, if such occurs.

When the press of enemies becomes too much for him to make ranged attacks, Havrin switches to his greatsword, hewing away at all who approach. Note that his Blind-Fight feat will come into play should he engage in melee with any concealed foes, and invisible attackers gain no advantages related to hitting Havrin in melee.

Havrin focuses his attacks on worgs and any other magical beasts when appropriate to capitalize on his battle prowess against magical beasts (+2 to hit and damage).

Havrin also attempts to keep an eye out for Antal, realizing that the halfling may move slower than the others, and will try to help him keep up if needed.

Roll: 1d20 ⇒ 15

Apologies 1d20 ⇒ 4

"Form up. We make a wedge!"

Scene 1 End
Hope everyone is enjoying this, it is certainly a change of pace from the normal "move and roll" of D&D but I find it to be a nice break.
Scene 2...hajimemashou!(begin!)!

As you dash through the ruined doors of the guard house, the closed portcullis ends your progress. Even half hinged, it still blocks the way forward, the nearby controls shattered and smashed. Illia charges it with her buckler, bouncing off uselessly. As footsteps start to ring in the distance, she begins to speak: "We're tra-", but is cut off in mid-sentence as a bright light streaks from behind the portcullis, rapidly expanding and engulfing the group. A series of visions flash before the party; a room full of weapon racks, a lone soldier facing down a purple-skinned creature and two dark worgs; a small office scattered with papers, a man face down in his own blood, hunched over a mahogany desk; a large empty hall, containing row after row of long tables, a pair of small dark-skinned creatures fighting over the contents of a cauldron. As each scene flashes past, you feel your feet touch floor, but are just as soon dragged away with sickening force. Suddenly, the "visions" end...

You are tossed haphazardly into the streets of what Antal will inform you is the north side of the city. A strange juxtaposition from the recent chaos of the Noble Realm, the streets seem to be quiet and peaceful on this cool summer night. A few stragglers are heading home, a pair of guards passes by, a dog chases a rat into an alleyway. Illia seems confused, even speechless, and quickly sheaths her rapier.

I REALLY like how that played out!

Breathing heavily, Havrin checks to make sure that everyone in the little party is alright. He follows Illia's example and sheathes his greatsword.

"What was that?" he asks the captain, referring to the strange visions everyone in the group experienced before appearing in the quiet city street. "And why isn't the rest of the city under attack?" The large man warily peers about, expecting more dark-skinned elves and worgs to suddenly leap from the shadows.

Tyr staggers briefly as reality changes around him. Catching his balance and his breath he glances to Illia,

"Is that something arcane of your people's doing or something else?" He asks, though he does not wait for the elven woman to answer, already moving and checking that each of the other party members is okay and sustained no further injuries. Once finished he sheaths his sword and waits, the previous encounters still obviously leaving the large, well built man tense.

He sets himself in a 'guard' position on one side of the group and waits, though glancing in the direction of the large building where in the destination lies.

Sirsi looks around cautiously, then sheathers her Rapier.
"I take it none of ye have an explanation for the magical mystery tour we just experienced then?"
After checking herself over quickly she continues.
"I suggest we be gettin' moving. I can't see why our enemies may have wanted us here when they had us well enough caught as it is, but I'd rather not be here if they're followin'"

Antal looks at the others grinning wildly. "Aww, I was hoping we could do that again! After all we didn't seem to be in any real trouble at the end there." Looking around the area and gaining his bearings Antal points in the distance. "The ship should still be docked in that direction."

"Is that something arcane of your people's doing or something else?"

"It's nothing I know of," Illia replies, "but these walls contain magic older than the city itself. I have been told the path through the barracks is never the same twice. As for the city, I do not know, but Antal is right, we must keep moving." She indicates for Antal to lead on, and follows warily...

Perception Check:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

To watch for anything untoward on their brisk walk.

Havrin takes a similar position on the opposite side of the group as Tyr, keeping an eye out for more attackers.

Perception Check: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11

Add an additional +2 to the Perception Check vs. magical beasts.

Antal begins whistling and skips along ahead of everyone. He grins and waves at anyone who might be on the streets along their route to the airship. "So what do think are the chances that we'll get to fight those guys again on the airship? If we do, I hope they don't hurt any of the passengers, especially the ladies. Maybe they aren't attacking the city cause they are only interested in the captain and her airship? How come they keep trying to get the captain's airship? Is there something special about it? Oooooo like maybe a SUPER weapon that launches flaming bears on your enemies!"

Antal's irrepressible good nature does bring a slight smile to the larger man's face, though he keeps his attention on the groups and clusters of people around them. He quickens his pace, the better to talk quietly to the fair lady Illia,

"Might I inquire as to the facilities aboard your vessel? There are some items I would have liked to purchase, had circumstances been different. Perhaps you have the craftsmen aboard and I could repay the costs through garnishing any wages?"

As the night deepens, stars begin to twinkle in the sky. One of Narscint's moons, Eran, is sitting high in the sky. Known as the Blue Fish, it's name comes as much from it's azure hue as the legend of it's creation (but that's another story for another time...maybe next week =D) . You pass a large tavern, still buzzing with stories of the day; a warm hearth flickers within, while a bawdy lutist leads a small group of youths in a wild but structured dance. Most of the city seems at peace, winding down after a long day of work...

The Captain chuckles at Antal's mention of 'flaming bears', but as you reach the enormous gateway that separates the Inner Ring from the Grand Courtyard, her sense of levity dies. The courtyard is engulfed in chaos, the doors on the far side are tightly sealed, and a familiar scene unfolds before you. A small army of short dark-skinned creatures is squaring off, toying with a ragged group of guards. The remains of what was once a semi-circle formation, hemming the attackers in, begins to collapse. A pair of dark elves strides out of the burning headquarters of the Midsky Guard, followed by an almost mythical sight: Orcs. Ranging from deep purple to pale yellow, the feral group of warriors rushes from the ruined barracks, tearing into the guard's tattered line. A few guards nearby you rush to close the enormous wooden doors to close off the courtyard from the city. One notices Illia loosen her rapier in it's scabbard, and looks at the party. He waves a hand to hold the doors..."In, or out?"

"Unless anyone has any better ideas I suggest we hide with the guards until we know what's going on."

Antal doesn't hesitate and charges in to assist the guards! Grinning madly he gathers up his remaining arcane strength to defend the city of his birth. "Orcs! Can you believe it!? This is going to make such a great story! I can't wait to hear how Sirsi tells it later!"

Havrin will take his cue from the Captain. If it looks as if she is ready to join the fray, Havrin will attempt to fire a few arrows before moving in for close combat with his greatsword. If it looks as if the Captain is not going to enter the battle, Havrin will attempt to catch Antal before he gets separated from the group.

If we are entering another cinematic battle, here is my d20 roll: 1d20 ⇒ 12

OOC: By the way, I will be away from the internet until Sunday evening. Caith, please feel free to NPC Havrin until then, taking into account his battle tactics as outlined before the last cinematic battle. Thanks, and everyone have a great weekend!

If we are entering another cinematic battle, here is my d20 roll: 1d20

OOC: By the way, I will be away from the internet until Sunday evening. Caith, please feel free to NPC Havrin until then, taking into account his battle tactics as outlined before the last cinematic battle. Thanks, and everyone have a great weekend!

For a brief instant Tyr stands in shock. So what had been seen before had been a sending? He shakes his head and in the time to do so,

"Unless anyone has any better ideas I suggest we hide with the guards until we know what's going on."

"Orcs! Can you believe it!? This is going to make such a great story! I can't wait to hear how Sirsi tells it later!"

"I'll cover/protect Antal! If things look to bad I'll get him out of the fight." He gives a small half salute and then charges the fray after the plucky Half-ling, drawing his great sword as he runs.

Here is my dice roll:1d20 ⇒ 20

"If we stand then it is together"
Presuming we're about to fight Sirsi will use Bardic Music until it runs out - stay back as much as possible using mobility to move in & out when a section of the line looks to be weakening. My last cure spell is held unless a party member is reduced to <=5hp.
1d20 ⇒ 3