Mirra instinctively reaches for her sword as Shagraat leaps back in the room and she curses as flames shoot out of the doorway and the room starts to fill with smoke.
"Well so much for any leads here." she says as she runs out the door.
Rayne sighs heavily and prepares to meet the new threat.
Shagraat vaults to his feet in time to see Urthona draw his sword, his attention rooted to some new threat outside. The hobgoblin speeds to the open doorway and out into the street, fully expecting to find dark elves with spiked chains. As he passes through the doorway he calls to his friends, "Perhaps it's time to reassert who is the hunter, and who is the hunted?"
Shagraat emerges from the shop, face blackened with smoke, and punches the nearest stranger. His fist impacts on flexible leather armour under the man's clothes, but still elicits a satisfyingly winded "ooof" from his victim.
Benedetto's still waiting for Mirri to act. I'm figuring he's at F13. When Shaagrat runs out and punches the fellow he's been talking to, Benedetto looks honestly startled.
With sword drawn Mirra quickly follows Shagraat through the smoke and out the door. As the smoke clears she sees Shagraat throw a punch into a armed man. Great, out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Mirra quickly grabs some wool from her cloak and casts her spell at the man next to Shagraat.
The man Mirra cast her spell on blinks, and then turns to face her, swinging his sap.
Benedetto turns to Shagraat and Mirra. "STAND DOWN, EVER'BODY! These are most likely the good guys."
He turns to the strangers and raises his hands as a signal of surrender. "That explosion weren't us. We don't do explosions. Two nights ago, we were fightin' mortal combat 'gainst drow and a Xendrik giant, and if we had explosions, we would'a used 'em then."
Diplomacy? 1d20+1d6 : [19,2] = (21)
One of the men (the one Shagraat didn't hit) snarls, "Keep your hands where we can see them, then, and don't try anything." His Thranish accent is quite plain.
Meanwhile men begin to spill out of the back of the skytruck - six more - while two more step out of the front, and they run up the street towards the party. One of these is a dark-haired man, seemingly in his early thirties, who walks slowly behind the others. He wears a long black leather coat (seemingly unbothered by the heat of Sharn) and black clothes. As he approaches, the ravages of earlier teenage acne are plain on his face, but his narrow face is grim and resolute.
Clearly in command, he steps up and snaps, "Drop your weapons and surrender!"
Not holding any weapons to start with, but currently wearing a spiked gauntlet, Rayne slowly raises his hands and smiles.
"I'm terribly sorry about all this, sirs, but... would you mind producing some credentials? I'd like to know under who's authority I'm about to be detained."
Mirra lowers her sword but doesn't drop it, waiting to see who these people are.
"Ev'ryone can cry surrender. But who will hold his own weapons, when we cannot defend ourselves."
"Ev'ryone can cry surrender. But who will hold his own weapons, when we cannot defend ourselves."
Colvare bursts out onto the street and pulls up quickly, obviously unarmed. He raises hands above his head and gasps for a moment.
His breath caught, he adjusts the hood of his cloak to cover his head again and says, "Indeed....who will?".
Pending Hamathin?
EDIT: And Urthona. Sorry.
Shagraat tumbles to I12 (via H14 & I13).
Still fighting defensively, but declining to attack. He does not drop his javelins. He says nothing at all, but his eyes dart back and forth between the speaking humans and the stranger in H13.
"Ev'ryone can cry surrender. But who will hold his own weapons, when we cannot defend ourselves."
"We ain't surrenderin', leastways not yet. They're still a-lookin' around their pockets, tryin' to conjure up some writ of authority here. Unless they do, we're just avoidin' any fights 'cept the ones 'gainst the bad guys."
Benedetto calmly turns to Colvare. "So, what happened in there?"
Benedetto calmly turns to Colvare. "So, what happened in there?"
"Trapped door, dead body, and lots of papers in the room. Door opens, fireball goes off right in the middle of it all. Pretty, very pretty."
"Perhaps better to put out fire first? Talk later."
"Perhaps better to put out fire first? Talk later."
"I'm inclined to agree. Urthona, Mirra, and you three," indicating a few of the men who came from the flyer, "go inside an' see what's to be done."
Benedetto turns to the man in the leather coat. " Can any o' y'all conjure up water?"
The man in the coat raises an eyebrow as Benedetto begins giving orders to his men. "Secure them," he snaps. The men from the truck raise hand crossbows and open fire. The original pair make a beeline for Shagraat and one clubs him with a sap, the other missing him due to the hobgoblin's defensive stance.
"Fools. No idea 'bout th'damage done."
Put me at H16, do I get my readied action?
Well, that answeres that question.
Colvare collapses into a heap, and begins to snore lightly.
Put me at H16, do I get my readied action?
Mirra curses and rips the bolt from her arm. Damn Thranes, stubborn lot.
Shagraat focuses a disabling attack on whichever of his two opponents looks most damaged (probably the one hit by Colvare's missile).
He then tumbles to F11.
Shagraat downs his foe and rolls out of immediate harm's way.
Mirra quickly whispers some arcane words and sends a flash of colors over Colvares sleeping form into the Thranes.
With a swift incantation, Mirra knocks three of the the assailants down.
Unbidden, an awareness of new options enters Benedetto's mind. His hands still held up at shoulder level, he looks at one of the remaining crossbowmen (preferably the man at H18) and emits a quiet, low-pitched hum. The humming echoes all around the man, who closes his eyes in pain and holds his free hand to his ear. It comes away with blood on the fingertips.
Nobody's close enough to him to take an Attack of Opportunity, so he'll just manifest.
Mind Thrust, spending an extra power point (because Benedetto's a 2nd level manifester), so it should do 2d10: [9,6] = (15). Will save (DC 10+1+2 = 13) negates.
Then he takes cover inside the shop.
The man cries in pain but doesn't fall, and look around beligerantly for who might have attacked his mind.
Rayne hits the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Benedetto looks out to see Raine's body slide down next to Colvare's.
"They made him go all quiet. Maybe they are the good guys."
He turns to look at Urthona.
zzzzzzZZZZZZZ
To Benedetto squeezing by Urthona. "Darn, where's Andre when ye need him."
"Anyone's gonna attack us further'll eat steel. Last warning!"
Smoke begins to billow into the street out of the shop doorway, and shout of "Fire!" can be heard in the distance from the street beyond.
The dark coated man shakes his head in irritation, raises a hand crossbow and shoots at Mirra, missing by a narrow margin in the melee. "For Flame's sake, take them down, I said. Deal with the woman," he yells. Two of the men move up to club Mirra into submission, but fail to land a blow, and one tries to clout Urthona across the skull with his sap but misses. The man on Shagraat can barely get close enough to attack, as the hobgoblin's defensive stance totally negates his attack.
To Benedetto squeezing by Urthona. "Darn, where's Andre when ye need him."
Benedetto nods. "Oh, wouldn't that be a lovely conversation they'd be havin'?"
As Shagraat throws the weapon he calls to his target, "The blood shed here is on your hands, flame-bringer."
Shagraat hurls his javelin, but the man neatly sidesteps and it clatters on to the cobbles behind him.
Er, you had a readied action?