Location: Danport, Southshire
The rain patters a rhythmic pattern on the shingled roof of the Scurvy Kobold. The weather reflects the dreary mood of the bartender. Several patrons sit nursing drinks at the table scattered around the tavern.
It has been three days since I was left behind by the dragon, and I had spent that time walking, and looking for my master. That was until the heavens were sundered and spilt for the clouds clear blood.
'Rain', Zeranthex had tought me the word, even the concept, but knowing of the thing, and knowing the thing were very different. In this case, Zeranthex had forgotten something.
Cold.
I had resigned myself to enduring the chill, continuing my search, but deep in my core, something is not iron and stone, something feels the numbing chill. Still I place one foot in front of the other, trying to spress the thought of the chill from my mind; that is, until, cresting a hill I find one of the small communities of the manlings.
I seek out the public house, and shoulder the door open to step inside. Oblivious to any looks I may receive, I shake dog-like just inside the door, my heavy cloak and iron flesh shedding the rain.
"Mo hulast deho grengoth Zeranthex," I say in draconic, then shaking my head repeat in common, "I am looking for Zeranthex."
Greeted again by blank stares, I assume no one has seen the great dragon recently, for certainly eveyone must know of my personal god.
I step over to the bar, and speak to the 'keeper, "Sir (or Lady as appropriate) I have no need of food nor drink, I seek only to shelter from the storm and share your fire." Unsure of the proper protocol, I turn and stride off towards the fire, standing far closer than would be comfortable for a human.
I stand there, motionless for sometime. Those who choose to study me see see a stout golem like body covered by a sheltering heavy black cloak. Steam rises here and there, cooked off by the fire.
In my left hand I clench a three-headed flail, absentmindedly ready for battle.
I'm really glad I didn't pay for this, I think to myself, staring into a mug of what is possibly the worst-tasting swill that has ever had the misfortune of being called 'ale.' Must be why the last patron abandoned the glass halfway through.
I pause for a moment to reflect on the "good ol' days" of raiding father's winecellar, suddenly missing his vast collection some of the sweetest wines ever made available on the human market.
I sigh and recline back in my uncomfortable wooden chair, pushing it up onto two of its four legs with my feet, and examine the pathetic looking bunch around me with an expression of extreme boredom.
Yawning, I try to stab a guess as to the time. Honestly, I have no idea what time it is, but I've been sitting here for so long, surely my contact must be late. I'll have to note that fact when it comes to paying his fees...
Sure, he promised to bring me info on what could possibly be one of the most lucrative scores in my burgling career, but that's no excuse for tardiness. Especially when said contact arranges meetings in the most unexciting dive I've seen since the last unexciting dive.
Sighing, I force down another swallow of ale and continue to wait.
Ashur sits outside the open door of the tavern, taking in the full force of the rain and wind. His long, wild hair flows waterlogged onto the muddy ground. His clothing, simple thin cloth tunic and pants, is completely soaked through. A bedroll that is no more than a few blankets sewn together covers a humble backpack that looks more like an elaborate cloth sack. He reclines meditatively, not paying attention to his surroundings or the few copper coins passersby toss onto his pack, mistaking him for a poor beggar. Though he has cut himself off from the world temporarily, an eagle perching nearby keeps watch over him, as if to protect him and warn him of danger.
Struck by a fit of sudden wanderlust, and perhaps more than a little curiosity about the outside world, Achur has taken his holy life on the road, and it has led him here to Southshire for the time being. Though he is far away from the wilderness of Alvinale, he feels little homesickness as he has his animal companion, Enar, to accompany him.
As the warforged wanders into the tavern, Enar warns Ashur of something interesting happening. Curious, he follows the man of wood and metal into the establishment, bare feet making wet footprints on the floor, and sits wetly in a chair at an empty table.
"Aaaahh, that's much better," drawls a cloaked figure that enters shortly after the metal man.
"Praise the Lord and Halleleujah! 'Tis a mighty fine tavern you have here!" he shouts, raising his arms, and accidentally discharging one of the exquisite dueling pistols tucked into his wide leather belt.
All eyes turn to the newcomer.
"Dayum. I'm very sorry about that, sir," he says to the bartender. He gives one of the serving wenches a wild-eyed look. "Kindly bring me some of your best ale, please."
The newcomer ambles over to a corner table and begins to reload his weapon.
Laucian, once he enters the tavern immediatly seeks the shadow's. His extensive Ninja training shows as he seems to melt into the shadow's. He is just starting to let down his gaurd and start to come out of the shadows when he see's the Warforged standing almost in the fire. This rather unerves him, because he hasn't seen a Warforged before, but he decides that he is not a threat and makes his way to the bar.
" Do you sell wine." he askes the barkeep.
" why yes I do," replies the barkeep,"would you like some"
" Please, and make it quick."
Laucian, once the barkeep has poured the wine, makes his way toward a table in the corner of the bar. He pulls down the black cloth covering his mouth and takes a tentative sip of the wine. Immediatly the wall across from him is drenched in sour wine. Once the taste was out of his mouth, he took out a small steel shuriken, and looking mildly amused dipped the weapon into the wine thinking to himself that this might just increase the potency of the poison already on the shurikens.
.
I sit in the corner of the bar, a look of disgust for the place and the people on my face. I follow the warforged's entrance with interest and the ninja's appearance with caution. When Jebadiah enters a sneer of equal parts dislike and caution spreads across my face. Wonderful, a righteous beleiver and crusader. Just what I need in my presence, a foe of the Knowledge. I think, not drinking from the glass in front of me. Once again my eyes turn to the Ninja. He could be a useful ally.
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A few tense moments pass as the new comers size each other up. Just then, the front door bangs open and six men walk into the tavern. They are all dressed in a similar fashion; knee high leather boots, a studded leather jerkin and a gray insignia on their left arms. Each one carries a rapier.
The leader of these men walk up to the bartender and begin threaten the bartender.
“Jorik, If you don’t cough up the fur shipment, Flame help me you’ll not live to regret it!”
A short human woman stands up from the back corner and begins to walk toward the front door. As she passed close to one of the gang members, he reaches out and grabs her by the arm. The knife flashes into his belly so quickly, the man didn’t even know he’d been stabbed until his guts hit the floor. He falls, dying, to the hard wooden planks. Jorik the bar tender hoists a heavy crossbow and lets fly a quarrel. He barely misses the leader of the gang and the bolt buries itself in the front wall. Two other patrons, a red haired man and a beardless dwarf, leap onto table tops brandishing knives. The surviving gang members draw their rapiers
Know: Local: 1+1 =2
Spot: 14+0 = 14
Oblivious to any possible threat, I remain with my back to the room standing far to close to the fire for mortal comfort.
Init: 14+2=16
Seeing the guards and the recent activity, Ashur's body tenses slightly in preparation for battle. The posability that he will have to defend himself is very likely, and he is both curious and dubious about this "fur shipment".
I watch curiosly from my seat in the corner as the drama before me unfolds, however I don't involve myself, waiting to see what will happen. The twitching of the middle finger of my left hand quickens a little.
I raise a brow with curiosity as I watch the violence unfold. It does not seem to concern me, however, so I'm not particularly motivated to get involved. Still, when people start dying, I'd prefer to not be added to the body count. Although I don't move just yet, my hand will drop down to the shaft of my bow, and the other rests reassuringly on the hilt of my rapier, so that I can be ready it if need come to defend myself. I sit forward in my chair, and set my legs in place in case I have to leap out of it quickly. Otherwise, I simply watch and let things happen.
Jed is in the middle of reloading his pistol when the gang enters the tavern.
"Blast and Dang it!" he shouts, hurriedly finishing reloading.
He then leaps up onto a table and fires the other pistol straight up into the ceiling.
Laucian, not knowing what exactly is going on, glides to the wall and into the shadows. while in the shadows, he readys two shurikens, one in each hand and prepares for the attack
Ashur experiences a brief moment of rare surprise at the man's dissapearence , and then stands, sensing that perhaps battle is more immenent than he originally feared.
22 The Beardless Dwarf
18 Gang Member 2
18 Gang Member 3
16 Myrkar
16 Dahak
14 Revan
14 The Short Woman
14 Gang Member 4
13 The Red Haired Man
10 Gang Leader
09 Laucian
09 Ashur
07 Jorik the Bartender
01 Gang Member 5
00 Jed (b/c he decided to stay out of it)
The bearless dwarf leaps off the table and swings his knife at the gang leader, who deftly dodges the blade.
Gang Member 2 leaps the bar and plunges his rapier into Jorik's chest, killing the fat man.
Gang Member 3 attacks the bald dwarf, peircing his armor and slicing the flesh underneath.
Myrkar, your turn.
I concentrate for a moment and then fade from view, becoming completely invisible. Other than that I do nothing, waiting to see if theres a reason to involve my self in a local quarrel.
Jed fires his other pistol into the air.
"Stop, will you!? Stop this senseless violence!"
Still invisible Myrkar rolls her eyes. This foolishness has gone on long enough. And that idiot on the table isn't helping I think. I become visible and a blast of pale light streaks forth from my outsretched hands illuminating my pale face and glittering black eyes full of malice and a hint of madness. Sometimes you can almost see something or many somethings writhing in the beam. It strikes the gang leader and the energy seems to spread writhing tendrils across his chest before fading from view.
You guys are acting out of turn. Myrkar, only your first action counts. It's now Dahaks turn. BTW, please be specific about which way and how far you move.
"Allu'ost, muada dortha Zeranthex!"
In draconic:
Brigand, you violate the perfect order of Zeranthex!
I thunder forward, each stride carrying me closer and closer to the gang's leader. Unbidden, oily froth rises at the corners of my mouth, as my terrifying battle cry echoses across the small room.
Unconcerned by the possible danger, my inexhorible charge brings be within reach of the leader, and my flail lashes down towards his knees.
I sigh and head for the door, deciding that discretion is definitely the better part of valor in this case. I almost reach the exit when I hear the large man roar something in a language I've heard few use. Understanding his words fully, I'm forced to turn my head and take account of the stranger, whom I now realize is anything but human. I watch briefly as he thunders into the melee.
A draconic-spouting machine-man? I think to myself. Things just got a lot more interesting...
Uncertain as to why, I suddenly find myself compelled to stay, and see how things play out. I notch an arrow into my bow and aim at one of the strangely dressed men. The machine-man certainly looks capable enough, but I might as well tip the scales a bit. He might be useful later...
Taking careful aim, I let a black-feathered arrow soar, striking the man as he struggles with the mechanical being.
Dahak:
AoO from G5: His rapier dings off of your armor skin barely missing you.
Your attack hits.
Revan:
Your attack hits.
The Short Woman makes for the door, provokes AoO from Revan if he is so inclined.
Gang Member 4 attacks the bearless dwarf, striking a powerful blow dropping the dwarf to the ground.
The red haired man leaps from the table and charges Gang Leader. His sneak attack nearly cripples the larger man.
The Gang Leader attacks Dahak: Critical Hit - 4 damage.
It is now Lucian's turn.
Dahak:
AoO from G5: His rapier dings off of your armor skin barely missing you.Your attack hits.
The Gang Leader attacks Dahak: Critical Hit - 4 damage.
I respond with a derisive 'heh' to the pathetic damage.
The Short Woman makes for the door, provokes AoO from Revan if he is so inclined.
I eye the woman up and down, sizing her up and fitting her into my own personal chart of physical attractiveness. Sadly, she doesn't fall into the category of "my type" and so I let her pass by unhindered.
I put you last in the Init order, but at the begining of the next round you can roll Init normaly.
I easily shrug off the fear inspired by the raging machine man. After all I've seen much, much worse.
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Dahak:
AoO from G5: His rapier dings off of your armor skin barely missing you.Your attack hits.
The Gang Leader attacks Dahak: Critical Hit - 4 damage.
I respond with a derisive 'heh' to the pathetic damage.
Sorry, forgot about the light fortification. You take 2 damage.
All NPCs made their Will saves (except the bartender, but he's in the negs).
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I easily shrug off the fear inspired by the raging machine man. After all I've seen much, much worse.
You tried to use 2 standard actions in 1 turn. You used Walk Unseen, which is a standard action. You now have a move action and a free action left. You cannot make another standard action (except AoOs) until your next turn. The Gang Leader didn't provoke an AoO from you, so you must wait until your next turn to attack him. So you are still invisible.
I remain invisible in my corner, waiting for the opportunity top strike.
Laucian see's that the fight is turning bad and that he will have to join in. He takes carefull aim and moving to the corner of the fireplace, flings both his surikens in quick succestion. They sink into the fleash of the two enemys and reapear next to Laucian.
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Laucian see's that the fight is turning bad and that he will have to join in. He takes carefull aim and moving to the corner of the fireplace, flings both his surikens in quick succestion. They sink into the fleash of the two enemys and reapear next to Laucian.
G6 is already dead. I'm going to assume you want to target G4 and G5. They both are hit and both fail their Fort Saves. Did you take range into account? They are 60ft. away from you. That's 3 range increments (they'll still hit, just remember next time if you didn't).
Laucian picks the floating shurikens out of the air and prepares for another attack.
G5 moves toward Revan (who he thinks the shiruken was from), draws his pistol and fires. The bullet pierces your shoulder, dealing 4 damage.
OW!!
Ashur and Jed delay thier actions until they get back (Jed can roll Init for the next round).
Gang Member 2 leaps the bar and rushes up to the red haired man, slashing at his legs with his rapier, missing the man by inches.
Gang Member 3 coup de graces the bearded dwarf.
Myrkar blasts the Gang Leader with her Eldritch Blast, ending her invisiblity and dropping him to the floor .
***ROAR***
Dahak's flail slams into the two gang members.