Brodert smiles thinly. "Write what you will Master Loreseeker, for few will believe what I have come to theorize...I have spent over two decades of my life studying with dwarven engineers at Janderhoff and three decades as a cataloger at the Great Library of Magnimar, and I am continually baffled and enraged that my learning and obvious intelligence haven’t afforded me more notice amongst my peers. Fools they are, to a man. They do not see that which stares them in the face."
He leans back in his chair, getting comfotable."As you know, nearly 300 years ago, Cheliax founded the colony of Korvosa in the supposedly cursed wilderness between its northern provinces and the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. A century of bloody war with the native barbarians, the Shoanti, followed, culminating in southeastern Varisia falling to Chelish rule. Soon after, colonists and
adventure seekers of all persuasions came to populate the newly tamed land. Yet, the deeper foreigners trod inland, the greater the mysteries they discovered: endless walls of carved earth, titanic
monoliths,...
"Indeed! That is amazing sir. You are a veritable treasure trove of lore. I would love to know more, especially about your theory on Old Light but you seem a bit uncomfortable here. If you are worried about prying ears, I am fluent in the dwarven tongue or draconic if you prefer?"
Ezren sighs, "Why must they take something as naturally beautiful as swallowtail butterflies and muddle them up with religious hoo haw?" He pauses momentarily only to take a sip of Winterdrop Mead before continuing. "Do they not realize that those they call deity simply do not care what happens to them? Take Abadar for example. Do you think he cares who prospers and who falls? No, the Golden One stays in his vault, aloof and uncaring. Bah! Why can one not simply enjoy something as simple as a butterfly without attempting to involve the divine." He sighs once more, knowing full well that he is likely the minority when it comes to such views.
Harsk stands under the shade of a tree, munching contentedly on yet another helping of Ameiko's curry-spiced salmon.
Catching site of Miss Mattie cantering by on her pony, the ranger calls out absently, "What is it you're prowling about for, little one? Why not come and share a spot in the shade?" Pointing to Gallus and Galstok he continues, "These big brutes won't bite...I think. Leastaways, not with stomachs full of food like this."
After taking his first bite of salmon, he quickly downs the ale. "Quite the bite there, anyone else want some more ale?" He returns to the stand for the Rusty Dragon and returns with a new mug plus for whoever else asked.
As the halfing rides by he looks over her mount with an appraising eye. "That is a fine looking beast if I may say so. Might he have earned a name? I was wondering who that proud creature had honored."
If Miss Mattie stops Galstok will approach and greet the animal in Shoanti.
"I lost mine on the way here. The animal got spooked by rabbit of all things." A smile forms on his face. "Well, atleast I ate well that night"
"Biting? Only if necessary." He says with a toothy grin.
"Hey dudes! I reckon its a good time to down a swig o' draught.
Why its good to see ye again Dwarf. Man, we're livin' in the land o' giants! Another big stranger, yikes. If ye bite me you'll get a hoof in the teeth Mister!....Naw, this handsome hoss ain't gotta name yet. At least none that I give 'im. But he's my beauty.
To answer your question Mr. Dwarf. I'm in town lookin' fer someone. Someone who has it comin'. His name's Orik Vankaskerkin - a lyin' Riddleport scumbag . He's a yella-bellied, no-good, murderin' outlaw. He killed my Pa in cold blood. That's why I'm here. Justice."
"Ye know. This town is awful pleasant and peaceful, today. But I can't imagine a proper workin' town without no dirty dealin's on the side. Even the thieves are on holiday...so it seems. It makes me feel uneasy."
Gallus looks up from his bowl of lobster chowder at Harsk's comments to Mattie and give a slight chuckle "I doubt she tastes as good as the rest of the food and likely bites back."
After taking his first bite of salmon, he quickly downs the ale. "Quite the bite there, anyone else want some more ale?" He returns to the stand for the Rusty Dragon and returns with a new mug plus for whoever else asked.
Nodding to Galstok "I would like another friend, if you don't mind." Nodding to Galstok he looks for any kind of reaction.
To answer your question Mr. Dwarf. I'm in town lookin' fer someone. Someone who has it comin'. His name's Orik Vankaskerkin - a lyin' Riddleport scumbag . He's a yella-bellied, no-good, murderin' outlaw. He killed my Pa in cold blood. That's why I'm here. Justice."
Gallus looks at Mattie his face somber in the midday sun. "What kind of 'justice' are you looking for Mattie? Is it the kind of justice to make someone atone for their actions? Or, is it the kind where you will make them pay a price for their actions? I only ask because I have done both and seen both. It is my experience that the second type is more akin to vengeance and often does not satisfy the way one might expect it to."
With that Gallus continues to eat his chowder though clearly in a much more subdued manner.
Nodding to Galstok "I would like another friend, if you don't mind." Nodding to Galstok he looks for any kind of reaction.
"I asked openly, Chelaxian" Galstok says before turning to walk to stand. Returning he offers both mugs forward allowing Gallus to take his pick of mugs. Grinning as he speaks, "Even if you do be a stinkin' Chelaxian, I do what I say and mean what I say to boot. From what I heard from you so far you ain't too keen on your kin. Unfortunate that, but maybe not here. Seeing as we all at a festival, I say peace for now. As for me, I was sent here to learn about folk and I can't be doing that if I go and kill the first Chelaxian I meet now can I?"
Extending his arm to clasp he says formally, "Galstok of the Shriikirri-Quah. Shall we make peace through the time of the Festival?"
Assuming Gallus accepts and gives his name, he'll say "I see you Gallus Domitus."
Turning to the others, "I can't recall I heard your's mention as well." If willing he will repeat the clasp, introduction and greeting with everyone else here.
Extending his arm to clasp he says formally, "Galstok of the Shriikirri-Quah. Shall we make peace through the time of the Festival?"Assuming Gallus accepts and gives his name, (This might get interesting if not.) he'll say "I see you Gallus Domitus."
Gallus gets up from where he was sitting and looks Galstok in the eyes. He accepts the offered mug of ale as well as accepting the extend arm of Galstok grasping firmly.
"Well met Galstok of the Shriikirri-Quah. I have no quarrel with you or any of the Shoanti and bear your people nothing but the highest respect. Great warriors are your people to resist the militant intrusions of the corrupt Chelaxian nobility." With that Gallus takes a long drink of ale. " As for the stinkin' part well that is less the Chelaxian blood and more several lonely days on the rode without a proper bath." an uncommon grin spreading across his face.
Laughing out loud he says,"Well, imagine that a Chelaxian with respect for the Shoanti!" Galstok looks at Gallus Domitus again a little more consideringly. He says something softly as if to himself.
After a moment he returns to Common and says, "As for the smell, I'm thinking it's all these people living so close together. How can the move? Is it always so crowded in cities like this?"
With that the acolytes pull back the covers from the wagon releasing the thousand children of Desna—a furious storm of a thousand swallowtail butterflies that swarm into the air in a spiraling riot of color to a great cheer from the crowd. Children rush around , madly trying to catch one of the beautiful creatures.
"Is that really all there is to this festival? Not that I mind the food and drink but..? Kinda hoping for something alittle more lively."
Ezren sighs, "Why must they take something as naturally beautiful as swallowtail butterflies and muddle them up with religious hoo haw?" He pauses momentarily only to take a sip of Winterdrop Mead before continuing. "Do they not realize that those they call deity simply do not care what happens to them? Take Abadar for example. Do you think he cares who prospers and who falls? No, the Golden One stays in his vault, aloof and uncaring. Bah! Why can one not simply enjoy something as simple as a butterfly without attempting to involve the divine." He sighs once more, knowing full well that he is likely the minority when it comes to such views.
Harsk squints as he gazes up into the midday sun, marveling at the riot of swirling colors produced by the myriad of butterflies. "Eh, I think I know what you mean, old timer. I've always thought of myself as beneath the notice of the divine and powerful. But that's all well enough. It's taught me to look out for myself, and not have to rely on anything or anyone else for a hand up."
To answer your question Mr. Dwarf. I'm in town lookin' fer someone. Someone who has it comin'. His name's Orik Vankaskerkin - a lyin' Riddleport scumbag . He's a yella-bellied, no-good, murderin' outlaw. He killed my Pa in cold blood. That's why I'm here. Justice."
Harsk nods solemnly. "I know a thing or two about the ones you love being taken too soon. If you need the blade of a dwarven axe to help you settle your score, you just give the word. What makes you think this fellow's in Sandpoint now?"
In Shoanti:
Maybe 'Friend' wouldn't so far off with this one.
"It would be an honor for me to be counted among your 'friends' Galstok of the Shiirikirri-Quah.
Ensu will try to push his way close to the wagon, and as soon as the ceremony is over, attempt once more to introduce himself to the local clergy so that he can get the official business out of the way, and get onto the interesting stuff the festival had to offer. Drat and bother them stuffy bureaucrats. They told me I would be expected, and apparently someone dropped the ball in sending the message ahead yet again. How am I supposed to get anything done when I am stuck doing their job half the time?
Father Zantus loks down at Ensu and shakes his head with a wry smile on his face. "I'm sorry my boy but no, I was not informed of your arrival. It's possible in all the preperations for the festival I missed it somehow, but then again, it may just not have gotten through to us. Anyway...how can I be of service?"
Ezren sighs, "Why must they take something as naturally beautiful as swallowtail butterflies and muddle them up with religious hoo haw?" He pauses momentarily only to take a sip of Winterdrop Mead before continuing. "Do they not realize that those they call deity simply do not care what happens to them? Take Abadar for example. Do you think he cares who prospers and who falls? No, the Golden One stays in his vault, aloof and uncaring. Bah! Why can one not simply enjoy something as simple as a butterfly without attempting to involve the divine." He sighs once more, knowing full well that he is likely the minority when it comes to such views.
A beautiful and delicate butterfly flutters down and gracefully lands on Ezrens shoulder.
"Don't fret too much, I'm sure that the paper pushers simply forgot again about little old me out in the field. I was sent here to investigate the precise means used to protect your new cathedral from fire as well as any details on what caused the fire in the first one; it is understood that the circumstances were rather unusual, but little else is known."
Gallus looks at Mattie his face somber in the midday sun. "What kind of 'justice' are you looking for Mattie? Is it the kind of justice to make someone atone for their actions? Or, is it the kind where you will make them pay a price for their actions? I only ask because I have done both and seen both. It is my experience that the second type is more akin to vengeance and often does not satisfy the way one might expect it to."...
"I hear what yer sayin' Gallus. But it ain't just about vengeance. The slayin' was a big hurt on our community. My Daddy was a great man. He built bridges and worked wonders. He worked with the law, with the guild and with the common folk so to keep a watchful eye, keep the peace and make sure that the business runs for everyone. After he was taken down, they had a chance to nab that bastard and hang 'im high for all to see. But they let 'im go. That sent a message to all of us. And now things are changin' for the worse. Times are gettin' tougher for my folks. I 'aint welcome in my own court. So now I seek my fortune here. But bye 'n bye I'm gonna send a message back. He and his posse have got to answer for what he did'. If not for me...then for the kids in my 'hood. But...for me..well...yeah...it's about vengeance. Atonement is 'aright. But Payback. Yeah. Payback `ll be sweet"
A beautiful and delicate butterfly flutters down and gracefully lands on Ezrens shoulder.
A beautiful and delicate butterfly flutters down and gracefully lands on Ezrens shoulder.
"Indeed! That is amazing sir. You are a veritable treasure trove of lore. I would love to know more, especially about your theory on Old Light but you seem a bit uncomfortable here. If you are worried about prying ears, I am fluent in the dwarven tongue or draconic if you prefer?"Brodert smiles thinly. "Write what you will Master Loreseeker, for few will believe what I have come to theorize...I have spent over two decades of my life studying with dwarven engineers at Janderhoff and three decades as a cataloger at the Great Library of Magnimar, and I am continually baffled and enraged that my learning and obvious intelligence haven’t afforded me more notice amongst my peers. Fools they are, to a man. They do not see that which stares them in the face."
He leans back in his chair, getting comfotable."As you know, nearly 300 years ago, Cheliax founded the colony of Korvosa in the supposedly cursed wilderness between its northern provinces and the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. A century of bloody war with the native barbarians, the Shoanti, followed, culminating in southeastern Varisia falling to Chelish rule. Soon after, colonists and
adventure seekers of all persuasions came to populate the newly tamed land. Yet, the deeper foreigners trod inland, the greater the mysteries they discovered: endless walls of carved earth, titanic
monoliths,...
"No lad, it's not that i'm worried about being overheard. No, it's just that talking about these theories of mine; well they make me uneasy. That tower must have once stood over 700 feet tall, although thats just guess work, but after studying the ruin I reckon thats pretty darn acurate. The remaining shell of the tower is just another reminder that neither the Chelaxians nor the Varisians are the first settlers of this land, yet apart from a few badly weathered carvings signifying that the peak of this tower once held a brilliant light, no insight to the tower’s true purpose remains here. But i've seen old carvings depicting it with a beam of light shining from its top. If it was a light. Me, well I think it was something a lot more destructive. Maybe even a weapon to challenge the Gods themselves."
"No lad, it's not that i'm worried about being overheard. No, it's just that talking about these theories of mine; well they make me uneasy. That tower must have once stood over 700 feet tall, although thats just guess work, but after studying the ruin I reckon thats pretty darn acurate. The remaining shell of the tower is just another reminder that neither the Chelaxians nor the Varisians are the first settlers of this land, yet apart from a few badly weathered carvings signifying that the peak of this tower once held a brilliant light, no insight to the tower’s true purpose...
Kendrick thinks for a moment and responds, "Master Brodert, I do believe you may be on to something here. From what I have read the rulers of this land in the distant past were contemporaries of the Alzlanti. True Azlanti mind you, not what everyone today thinks they are. And given that the last known, true Azlanti was the God Aroden, perhaps other members of those civilizations had abilities that we would consider god-like?"
[i]"Me, well I think it was something a lot more destructive. Maybe even a weapon to challenge the Gods themselves."
"Must'a been ancesters of our grey haired friend here then." Grog sais with a grin towards Ezren.
You may or may not think much of her magic man, but it looks like Desna smiles upon you."
A J s Dad wrote:
[i]"Me, well I think it was something a lot more destructive. Maybe even a weapon to challenge the Gods themselves."
"Must'a been ancesters of our grey haired friend here then." Grog sais with a grin towards Ezren.
"You may or may not think much of her magic man, but it looks like Desna smiles upon you."
"Ah yes, a butterfly landed on my hand... must be the work of Desna, yes? A being with cosmic powers has nothing better to do than to coerce a butterfly to land upon an old mans hand. Yet, murderers like Chopper are left to us mere mortals to deal with?" He brings his hand in close and examines the butterfly, honestly appreciating it for what it is, a wonderfuly enchanting creature. "I do not contest the existence of the gods, quite the contrary. I only question societies belief that said gods sit upon their thrones and pine over every little act commited by us mere mortals." He shakes his head, "The gods are, at their best, indifferent. People should put more faith and trust in themselves and less in cosmic beings that care nothing for them." He ends his tirade, knowing that he has probably offended everyone in ear shot. "However, I digress... I do not begrudge others their views, I simply do not understand them." He waves his hand, "I will speak no more on the matter save this. I once heard it said, "Religion is a bauetiful thing. I believe everyone should have one. I just do not think they should ever talk about it with anyone." Though I disagree with the former, I am starting to see the wisdom in the latter. With that said, I believe I will bow out of further theological discussion."
At the end of his patience for the subject Ezren turns to leave the vacinity of the cathedral... he had heard there was a museum... maybe even a library... a library would be wonderful.
Gallus looks around the square then back towards Ezren."It seems to
Me you might have difficulty finding something that is open I believe everyone in town is here. Even the criminals are likely to not turn away from free food drink. Have a seat in the shade and enjoy a cold drink." he says between mouthfuls of chowder.
"It would be an honor for me to be counted among your 'friends' Galstok of the Shiirikirri-Quah.
"Well the wonders never end!"
Assuming Miss Mattie accepted the formal greeting and gave her name, "Miss Mattie, if you be willing to have some assistance, I would be more then eager to help even if its just holding him still for ya if you come across this fellow."
Seeing the butterfly land on Ezren, "While it may not be the god's workings, that is still sign of a good omen."
"My Father was an officer in the Chelish army and thus I was trained in some one of the best military schools in Cheliax. Part of our training was to learn and understanding of the enemies of our people. We learned much about your people to better understand how to defeat you in battle. I gained a great deal of respect for your brethren after reading how they often defeated tactically superior forces due to their strong warrior heritage. This increased my interest in your people and their culture. I then had the luck to find a slave who worked in the school who was Varisian by decent but had an understanding of Shoanti language and culture. I convinced him to teach me the language and culture in return for buying out his contract. I must say I have not had chance to practice in a long time so I hope my pronunciation is ok?
Gallus clearly has to concentrate while speaking the Shoanti language as if he has not spoken it in a long time.
Face glowering at some of what Gallus says, he listens to all Gallus says then with a grin corrects a few mispronounced words.
As for learning about enemies, current or potential ones, what better way then to live among them. Thats why I am here after all."
Kendrick thinks for a moment and responds, "Master Brodert, I do believe you may be on to something here. From what I have read the rulers of this land in the distant past were contemporaries of the Alzlanti. True Azlanti mind you, not what everyone today thinks they are. And given that the last known, true Azlanti was the God Aroden, perhaps other members of those civilizations had abilities that we would consider god-like?"
"No lad, it's not that i'm worried about being overheard. No, it's just that talking about these theories of mine; well they make me uneasy. That tower must have once stood over 700 feet tall, although thats just guess work, but after studying the ruin I reckon thats pretty darn acurate. The remaining shell of the tower is just another reminder that neither the Chelaxians nor the Varisians are the first settlers of this land, yet apart from a few badly weathered carvings signifying that the peak of this tower once held a brilliant light, no insight to the tower’s true purpose...
"You know what lad, you may just be on the right train of thought there. I suggest that we perhaps discuss this further, perhaps after this evenings festivities. What say you to some more drinks and food, perhaps back at the Dragon later on?"
The afternoon wears on, with much food and drink being both consumed and spilt. Spirits are high, the sky is blue with hardly a cloud in it and the fresh sea breeze is invigorating. Butterflies are everywhere. As the sun begins to dip toward the horizon, the crowds attention turns to the cathedral once again as Father Zantus and his acolytes make their way onto the podium.
The good Priest brings his hand down sharply on the podium and a sharp retort, like the crack of distant thunder, slices through the excited crowd. The sun’s setting rays now paint a vivid picture across the western sky. A stray dog that has crawled under a nearby wagon to sleep starts awake, a baby cries at the sudden noise as his mother gently reassures him that all is well. The buzz of two dozen conversations quickly hushes as all heads turn toward the central podium, where a beaming Father Zantus raises his hands to begin the Prayer of First Dreaming...
"You know what lad, you may just be on the right train of thought there. I suggest that we perhaps discuss this further, perhaps after this evenings festivities. What say you to some more drinks and food, perhaps back at the Dragon later on?"
"You have a deal sir", says Kendrick as he extends his hand. "I will meet you there this evening. Now if you'll excuse me, I have no doubt there are some ladies waiting to make my aquaintence."
Harsk, beginning to feel weary of the crowds and noise, is thankful that the festivities seem about to come to a close. "Well enough, then. The final speech, and let's get it over and done with," he mutters softly.
Grog finishes up his drink in one last gulp and leans up against the nearest tree...eyelids beginning to flutter at the thought of another speach.
"Wake me when someone wishes to dance..." He mutters to no one in particular.
Father Zantus coughs to clear his throat, takes a breath to speak, when 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!"
Ezren turns at the screams, shifting his cane to his left hand. As the "song" begins he scans the crowd attempting to stay back from the mob where he can see what is going on attempting to take note of his companions or anyone else in immidiate danger.
He draws forth the energy of a spell prepared earlier, cast to its near completion and then held... awaiting his command.
He quickly traces the final rune in the air with his free hand, using his cane as the focal point and, finally, he utters the arcane syllables to give the spell life, "magicus-a-um amatu". There is a soft blue glow that extends outward slightly before turning back upon itself and settling upon his skin; a layer of pure magic to protect his fragile skin; a layer of armor as strong as the chain worn by a warrior.
Initiative,
"Hurgh? Wha?" Grog shakes his head clear. "What's going on?" He roars at the sight of the bloodied dog and terrified towns folk. He pulls the battle axe out and drops his pack next to the tree (on his action).
Initiative:
"I knew it! No sly devil worth his salt'd pass up an opportunity for mischief on a day like this."
With inbred dexterity Mattie will load up her sling and dangle it at the ready in one hand. Her spear and the reigns are held in the other as she looks for a direction to steer the pony.
Ensu will pull out his crossbow, load it, and look for a good vantage point that he can use to turn goblins into pincushions from.
Initiative
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"Huh? Not bad for runts", thinks Kendrick "but I can do better."
On his initative; he begins to sing (inspire courage)
"Goblins whine and goblins cry
Goblins bleed and goblins die
Slice a goblin in the neck
Goblin is a messy wreck!
Goblins beat and goblins bashed
Goblins shot and goblins slashed
Kick their heads and watch them roll
Goblin kickball don't you know!
String them up or hunt them down
Goblins soon be leaving town
Fear not friends, it's just goblins see
Collect their ears for a bounty!"
Perform(sing);
Gallus leasps to his feet and grabs his glaive. "Goblins? How on earth would they get into the town?" Gallus moves towards the gap in the crowd looking towards where the one goblin came from to see if he can see anymore and is prepared to strike at any he sees.
Gallus looks around trying to identify any guards as well.
Perception
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You all see, from your various positions around the square, that the shape that raced by and killed the dog now hides at the edge of the wagon— you see a small creature standing about three feet in height, yet its elliptical head is almost comically oversized for its gangly physique. Its eyes are set wide apart—tiny red beads in a wrinkled
face that almost seem too eager to reflect firelight. Just below is a wide maw full of tiny, sharp teeth. The creature is of green-gray hue, dressed in cast-off bits of scavenged refuse and hand-me-downs, right down to its sword—a long jagged piece of broken metal that it waves about menacingly. This single goblin, licks the blood from its dogslicer as it looks excitedly at the crowd, seeking out a new target. As you watch, two more crawl under the wagon to crouch next to their companion.
Ensu will let loose a bolt at the armed goblin on his turn and reload.
attack
damage
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Ensu The bolt speeds accross the square and thuds into the cart about an inch above the goblins head. The goblin leers at you and sings...
"Kill the dog and beat the Gnome
Cut them up for juicy bones
Stamp on them until their flat
Nasty gnome ain't coming back"
Ensu looks for his companions and calls out, "Can someone please shut up that annoying git? His singing is making me want to suicide myself on his blade just to get the pain of his singing over with."
"I'm on it! Shut it, filthy goblins..." Harsk replies to Ensu as he raises his loaded heavy crossbow to his shoulder and lets fly at the nearest of the foul creatures.
Initiative:
Looking for any other besides those three goblins he:
Perception:
If within 30' and no others threatening anyone he will pull a javelin out of the quiver and hurl it at the singing goblin.
Attack:
Damage:
Otherwise he will pick his hammer up from where it was leaning against the tree and move his full 40ft to place himself between the nearest goblins and any noncombatants.
"Do as the gnome told you, and SHUT THE HELL UP VERMIN!" Grog roars as he hefts his axe overhead and barles toward the singing goblin.
If possible Grog charges the singing goblin...if the crowd is too restrictive to charge, he'll move up and attack.
battle axe attack (weilded two handed) +2 if charging
damage if hit
Damage:
Grog runs rorward, battleaxe raised and brings it crashing down, its blade biting deep...into the earth by the wagon that the goblin had been standuing on but seconbds before. The goblin lears down from the top of the cart where it has leaped, sticks out it's tongue and has it neatly blasted off along with most of its face by the bolt that flies true from Harsks crossbow. The creature topples backward off the cart as its two companions let out cries of exitement at the scene of carnage.
A rousing song starts up from behind you as Kendrick starts a chorus to challenge the goblin song...
"Goblins whine and goblins cry
Goblins bleed and goblins die
Slice a goblin in the neck
Goblin is a messy wreck!
Goblins beat and goblins bashed
Goblins shot and goblins slashed
Kick their heads and watch them roll
Goblin kickball don't you know!
String them up or hunt them down
Goblins soon be leaving town
Fear not friends, it's just goblins see
Collect their ears for a bounty!"
The two remaining goblins hiding under the cart both let out a shrill scream of glee and swing their ill made blades at the legs of Grogthamus as he stands by the cart.
Both blades swing wildly, one embedding in the carcass of the dog, whilst the other goblin strikes the cart wheel, sending splinter into the air. Both creatures titter with exitement.
The goblin lears down from the top of the cart where it has leaped, sticks out it's tongue and has it neatly blasted off along with most of its face by the bolt that flies true from Harsks crossbow. The creature topples backward off the cart as its two companions let out cries of exitement at the scene of carnage.
Having completed his protection spell at the first sign of trouble Ezren now focuses on the task at hand. He glances to his cane, but seeing the difficulty of the shot chooses another option.
He feels for the arcane energy and draws the symbol in the air. Now all the spell needed were the words to seal it, "contendo magicus-a-um contendo!" He barks the last sylable giving it power. A blue white globe of pure arcane energy appears in his hand and streaks out, whipping its way around bystanders, dipping low neath the wagon to strike true against one of the goblins swinging at Grog.
Magic Missile:
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The energy missile strikes true and hits the one of the two remaining goblins under the cart directly in its chest. The goblin is boled over before leaping back to its feet, whilst frantically patting its chest to stop its clothing from smoldering. The other goblin looks at his companion in amazement and then starts to copy his strange dance, before being impaled to the cart by a quivering javelin thrown by Galstock.
The remaining goblin, still smoldering runs from under the cart directly toward you all, now in a blind panic.