"Hmmmm..." Alwyn looks speculatively down on the prone goblin while fiddling with his knife. "Nah." He steps over it, sheathing his knife and pulling his silver-headed mace. "Hudak! Save a few for me, willya?"
After finding the pits full of punji sticks, Alwyn stops muttering and grumbling, becoming as quiet as his heavy armour will let him. "Let me know if you find goblins," he whispers to the scouts before they depart. "I can't really sneak up on anyone, but perhaps I serve as a decoy while you lot surround any ambushers?"
"Damn goblins, lairing out here." Alwyn wipes away a rivulet of sweat and untangles a shoulder plate from a stubborn vine. "I'll have to kill a few of 'em for this inconvenience."
"Meh. He could have killed Aroden himself, and I still wouldn't turn him over to a Hellknight." Alwyn spits into the fire. "If any of them come this way, I'll put them in irons and sell them to Ulfen slavers. That'll teach them to mess around in the Northern lands."
Alwyn grins while listening to Hudak's ranting. "All true. And thanks to the magic of, well, magic, you'll feel as good as new in less than a minute! Now, do we want to go back to Sandpoint with the caravan? I'd like to just push on northwards myself - but, just maybe, someone in town will know something about the dragon or, more likely, the goblins. Maybe the best dwells alongside its goblin slaves?"
I have enough channeling attempts to get everyone up to full health. Should I roll, or are we OK after a night's sleep?
"Anyone hurt? All injured parties, get over here for healing," Alwyn barks, walking around the camp.
"The hellknights had better be out in force, or they'll all end up as food for the ravens. I will not tolerate a bunch of diabolists, no matter how official they may be."
As the dragon disappears into the gloom, Alwyn spots another, smaller enemy... "Hudak! Get over here! I'll patch you up while we kill the little buggers."
Charge to TU 7-8 before attacking Goblin 13. Attack roll 11+8+2(Bull's STR)+2(Righteous Might)+4(bard)+2(charge)=AC 29, damage 3d6+5+3(Bull's STR)+3(Righteous Might)+3(bard)=23.
Hah! Thanks to Righteous might, the dragon missed me!
With a surprisingly smooth move, Alwyn ducks underneath the dragon's attack. His counter-attack is equally graceful, relying on deft skill rather than raw power to penetrate the scaly foe's defences. "Time to die, devil!"
Still using Vital Strike and Destructive Smite, but I'm dropping the Power Attack. Attack roll 14+8+2(Bull's STR)+2(Righteous Might)+4(bard)=AC 28, damage 6d6+5+3(Bull's STR)+3(Righteous Might)+4(Destructive Smite)+3(bard)=45.
"Hey! Come pick someone your own size!" Alwyn walks towards the dragon, waving his sword menacingly.
Move to QR 15-16 before casting Holy smite at GH 22-23 intersection. It hits the dragon and goblins 4, 5 and 6. They receive 4d8=21 points of damage and are blinded; a successful Will 19 save halves the damage and negates the blindness. SR check 14+9=24.
I'm dropping Restoration in order to cast Cure critical wounds on Hudak. He recovers 4d8+9=29 hit points.
"I don't know if we can beat this abomination. No wonder they call it a devil!" Alwyn shakes his head in disgust. "Maybe we should let it and its goblin minions have some horses. Better that than dying in a hopeless struggle."
I suspect that Alwyn's position on the map is wrong (my fault) but we'll roll with it.
The positioning is one thing, but why did it get an AoO on me? After all, I'm also Large and don't need to move inside its reach.
Alwyn follows the winged beast, probing its defences.
Time to pull out all the stops. I'm using Vital Strike, Power Attack and Destructive Smite. Attack roll 16+8-2(PA)+2(Bull's STR)+2(Righteous Might)=AC 26, damage 6d6+11+3(Bull's STR)+3(Righteous Might)+4(Destructive Smite)=46.
"So, with no ships sailing... Should we tag along with Vhiski and his wandering minstrel show? It probably beats walking alone and sleeping in a ditch..."
I was hoping to find a ship to take us to Riddleport or, alternatively, Roderic's Cove. I'm going down to the harbour every morning to look for trustworthy transport.
"The Hagfish? What do you take us for, barbarians?" Alwyn is grinning broadly. "I'm going upstairs to change out of this armour. When I get down, I want lots of food and lots of drink. And keep it coming - tonight, everybody eats and drinks on me!"
"Good morning, Ameiko. The others are fine - they are currently flogging some loot in Magnimar. While they do that, we're headed to Riddleport. We'll stay for a day or three, but then we need to move on. That might - but just might - give Hudak time to tell about his exploits; he's been very busy the last few months."
"Indeed. Anything we can do to help? It would be the least we can do, really, in exchange for graciously letting us ride with you." Alwyn wanders around the camp, helping the Varisians load their wagons, using these opportunities to chat a bit with random caravaneers and listen in on their conversations.
Perception 12+13=25, Sense Motive 13+17=30 and Diplomacy 9+14=23. In particular I'm looking for people with gang tattoos or similar markings, in addition to just gauging the mood in the caravan. I try not to stray too far from Hudak, just in case.
"Bah!" Alwyn spits in disgust. "After what he did, Tsuto deserved even worse than he got. The others, however... That was a disgrace. But let's not dwell on such foul memories. Say, lord Vhiski, why don't we alternate storytelling duties? You'll tell us a tale of your adventures with Ameiko, and we'll tell one of ours, and so on?"
Alwyn shakes Vhiski's hand vigorously. "Pleasure meeting you, sir. We have indeed done a bit of adventuring in and around Sandpoint. Lately, though, our travels have taken us further afield. Your man Vassos here tells us we share a friendship with the lovely Ameiko Kaijitsu."
"Huh. We can't seem to avoid this guy," Alwyn mutters as the Varisian outrider approaches. "Should we head over to this guy Vhiski's camp and just get this charade over with?"
"Ah, good morning, " he exclaims to the new arrival. "It is a rare pleasure to witness Gozreh's messengers at such close range. God times were had by all, I daresay."
Alwyn sleeps like a log through the night. After cooking a hearty breakfast the next morning (eggs, potatoes and coffee so strong and thick that the sugar stays on the surface of it) he puts on his platemail for the last stretch to Sandpoint. "Just in case."
I always sleep really well with some serious weather outside. The sounds of wind and rain works as a great lullaby.
"Two more days of trudging, Camlo, and then we'll be in Sandpoint. Nice town. Then we'll catch a ship to Riddleport. Another nice town. So - no walking around for a good week. So cheer up."
"I've never heard about that Vhiski fellow, and with the recent unpleasantness with Varisian criminals... Let's haul ass towards Sandpoint - with a bit of luck, they'll try to ambush us at the Misgivings. Of course, we'll go nowhere near that accursed place. Hopefully they'll lose a few of their number to the ghouls that haunt it."
"Indeed. We Shoanti revere the wide open spaces and the solitude provided by the bleak desolation of the Storval Plateau. The silence lets us commune with our totem spirits." He pauses for bit. "After that, we'll probably return to the Misgivings, just to check up on our work."