HP 80/76 (49 nonlethal)
AC 15, touch 16, flat-footed 11
Fort +10*, Ref +9*, Will +12*; CMD 22
Divine retribution (DC 16) 0/6; Judgments 0/3; Bane 3/9; Discern lies 0/8
cold iron arrows 0/29; elf-bane arrows 0/3; human bane arrows 0/4
Spells: 0/5 (first-level); 1/5 (second level); 1/4 (third level) Consumables: Gravity Bow ring 0/3
Effects: Unarmored, contagious zeal (+2 to hit, damage; +4 Will vs. fear) 3/9, protection judgment (+2 AC), resiliency (DC 2/magic), greater magic weapon (+3)
"Watch where you put that hand, Gobbles," Calla says, though she smiles as she feels the additional protection settle over here.
She fires again at the nearest elves.
Kel moves through the fog to the doorway. Spying the lineup of evil elves, she unleashes a torrent of colored lights from the palms of her hands.
As Lefrik and Bruendor continued in their magical sleep, Kelendra moved forward and launched a spell. The coruscating ribbons of light and sound wrapped around the elves, dazing all but two. One of the two was the elf that Anklebiter's lighting clouds had been harrying, and he went down with another small rumble of thunder. The other dropped his bow and drew his rapier, plunging it into Kelendra's side in the same smooth motion. Calla launched a trio of arrows into her nearest attacker, who ducked underneath two, but took the third in his left side. The wet rasping of his breathing told her that she had probably gotten a lung.
Three of them are down now, 4 if you count the one Lefrik knocked unconscious.
Kelendra took a hit for 6 damage
In bold may act
R7: calla, anklebiter, bruendor, group1 (yellow), group2 (blue), kelendra, lefrik
R8: calla, anklebiter, bruendor, group1 (yellow), group2 (blue), kelendra, lefrik
current damage
Anklebiter -0
Bruendor -12 (29 NL)
Calla -0 (49 NL)
Kelendra -6 (18 NL)
Lefrik -41 (77 NL)
"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" Anklebiter says as he shakes Bruendor.
The two orbs of black lightning drift to the next nearest Elf, crackling and zapping viciously.
Kel runs past her foe and moves to Lefrik's side as she shakes the big man awake with healing hands. "Hurry, Lefrik, wake up!"
"Did I win?" He wakes up feeling much better
Anklebiter and Lefrik tended to the sleeping Lefrik, waking the barbarian and healing a good portion of his wounds. The man looked up, groggy and sore, but still alive, and that was something. He could see Kelendra's face hovering over him, but could also feel the invisible goblin's hand still shaking his shoulder. Calla, still standing guard over Bruendor's fallen form, launched a pair of arrows into the nearest elf. She wasn't trying to kill him, but she wasn't particularly trying not to, so when the pair of shafts glanced off the elf's armor and angled up into his throat, she wasn't too upset about his death.
One person was, however. The only elf not stunned by Kelendra's spell looked at the fallen forms around him and bolted for the door. In moments, he was gone.
In bold may act
R8: calla, anklebiter, bruendor, group1 (yellow), group2 (blue), kelendra, lefrik
R9: calla, anklebiter, bruendor, group1 (yellow), group2 (blue), kelendra, lefrik
current damage
Anklebiter -0
Bruendor -12 (29 NL)
Calla -0 (49 NL)
Kelendra -6 (18 NL)
Lefrik -13 (49 NL)
"Do we stay and explain, or do we try to escape this city and get into Orv?" Anklebiter asks. "Either way, we need to tie these bastards up."
He starts to tie them up, making sure they aren't bleeding out, "I don't know. Something beyond my grasp is at play here... a Winter Council? Was there any mention of a Winter Council before this? And frankly? I think that very shortly, we will have any number of more elves come in, and frankly, I think we're going to be set up falsely...particularly if the elf who just escaped has anything to say about it." He also searches the bodies for evidence or connections anything that might be proof
"-a dwarf!", Bruendor says, bolting upright as Anklebiter gives him a firm shaking to rouse him. Looking around, he notes that the battle is over, and he rubs his forehead. "How...how long was I out?" He listens to the rest of his friends express their confusion, and his frown deepens. "This...this is not good. And I thought we were safe now that we're out of Zirnakaynin." He retreats to his room to throw on his armor and gather his gear.
"That's nice, friend Bruendor," Anklebiter says, "but also kind of funny. I never feel really safe when surrounded by strange Elves. Our friends at Crying Leaf don't count, because they're our friends, and not strangers."
"So," Duchess chirps as she comes flying out of the laboratory, "What next? Do we rob them and run, or do I go out and keep cavey while you all talk some more?"
"Maybe you should sit this one out, grandma," Magpie mocks as she follows after the other homunculus. "You're last year's model, after all, and didn't you manage to get yourself killed on your first job?"
"Nuh-uh!" Duchess denies, angrily. "Scout the dome, scout the pool, stay with Bruendor to keep him company, guide Bruendor to Master - and then came the stinky dragon! Fifth job! You haven't even done five jobs yet, pipsqueak!"
"They go on like that for hours if I don't tell them to quit it," Anklebiter sighs to Calla. "I don't understand it. They should both be functioning perfectly."
On seeing one of the hateful Elves stir, Anklebiter crosses his arms over his chest and starts chanting urgently!
HP 80/76 (49 nonlethal)
AC 15, touch 16, flat-footed 11
Fort +10*, Ref +9*, Will +12*; CMD 22
Divine retribution (DC 16) 0/6; Judgments 0/3; Bane 3/9; Discern lies 0/8
cold iron arrows 0/29; elf-bane arrows 0/3; human bane arrows 0/4
Spells: 0/5 (first-level); 1/5 (second level); 1/4 (third level) Consumables: Gravity Bow ring 0/3
Effects: Unarmored, contagious zeal (+2 to hit, damage; +4 Will vs. fear) 4/9, protection judgment (+2 AC), resiliency (DC 2/magic), greater magic weapon (+3)
Calla, not wanting to kill anymore of the elves, allows part of her goddess blessings to wane and fires one arrow at each of the remaining elves .
The remaining elves snap to as each is hit by an arrow. With dazed looks on their faces, they take in their fallen comrades and quickly follow their retreating companion out the open door and into the night.
Combat is over!
In the aftermath, you are left with four corpses, one very unconscious woman, and a whole lot of questions.
Bloody elves!" Calla pants, wincing as bruises continue to purple all over her body.
"We need to get ready in case they come back," she declares, retreating to her room where she begins pulling on her gear.
Lefrik gets his own gear and armor, his other weapons, and curses "I am this close to heading back to the bar in riddleport."
"We should tie this last one up," Anklebiter says as he cancels the spell and points at the unconscious Elf. "Questions need answering. Ours -- and probably the guards, when they finally show up. I'm amazed they didn't come running when I cast Shout!"
And as if waiting for someone to mention them, the tramping of feet heralded the arrival of the guards. As they approached the house, the polearms of the guard leveled into a hedgerow of protection, with every other guard pointing outwards and inwards, forming a barrier both against exit from your lodgings and entry to them. A guard captain, sword still scabbarded, moved forward and called out "This is the Light Guard. I am approaching the domicile. Any attack on my person would be a poor judgement. We had reports of a small skirmish here. Is anyone hurt?"
Peering in the open doorway, the intake of breath was obvious to any one nearby. "By the Lady! What happened here?"
"We were attacked," Calla spits, "though it went the worse for them. They claimed to be something called the Winter Council."
"There's one here who's still alive, I think," Anklebiter says as he fades back into view. "The other ones that lived all scarpered. But if you're going to question her, you'd probably better have a Cleric here who can cast a truthspell."
"The Lady in the Room gives me some ability to do just that," Calla notes.
"Yar, but I bet they're going to want one of their own to do it," Anklebiter says as he gives the Light Guard a very sober look and crosses his arms.
Duchess flits down and lands on her master's shoulder -- then mimics his gesture of crossing her arms. With respect to size being relative, it's still a fairly impressive gesture, given that no one has bothered to clothe her since her 'rebirth'.
Magpie lands on Anklebiter's other shoulder -- and just sticks her tongue out at the Elves.
"Someone should still tie that one up," she chirps. "Nasty things, breaking through the door and shooting sleepy-arrows all over. Horrible, cowardly, sneaking!"
"I have had enough of this duplicity!", Bruendor all but shouts at the guard. "My friends and I bled and subjected ourselves to the depravity of the deep elves to give everyone on the surface a fighting chance to avoid a second Earthfall, and this Winter Council decides to send assassins to end our lives! And all this under your Queen's pretty little nose! Now, I demand that we be able to interrogate this prisoner alongside you, so that we can all come to the truth of the matter here! We are all on the same side here, so show us all what it is that separates you lot in Kyonin from the bastards below!" Bruendor's gaze is fixed and resolute at the guard captain, knowing that this approach would not win him friends, but he'd had his fill of playing nice.
"Please" Kel coos at the guard captain, "We came here to save your people, you can't let us be assassinated."
"Settle down, dwarf. I have no intention of letting you be assassinated, and if the Queen had any inkling that something like this might have happened, she would have housed you in the palace itself, under her personal protection. Now, please, tell me what happened here while we get this mess cleaned up. If you like, you can be present at the questioning of this one, but it will be my men and my clerics doing the questioning. Are we clear on that? You will listen and not interfere, and if I get even a hint of magic being done by any of you, you will be arrested yourselves."
"One more thing. Another outburst like that against the Queen and I will walk away. The people here in Iadara are fanatically devoted to our Queen, and they would not take kindly to hearing you belittle her. Keep a civil tongue in your head, and you may find that things are not as they seem. Or do not, and be beaten bloody and thrown in prison until such time as someone remembers you are there. It is your choice, of course, but when dealing with royalty, I have found that it is easier to bite my tongue than to have it cut off."
Anklebiter gently interposes himself between the Light Guard and Bruendor, and gives a concise summary of what happened.
"They underestimated us, I think. They also overestimated the effectiveness of these sleep-arrows; we are not all susceptible, and they were not as well-prepared for invisible opponents as they thought.
When can you have people here to begin the interrogation?"
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"Here is not the proper place. Come, we will return to the Guard quarters. We have an appropriate cell there."
He motioned and four elves ran into the building. Pulling binders from their belts, they manacled the survivor hand and foot, then carried her from the building. The commander motioned for you to follow as he and his men marched off towards the palace.
As you approached the organic curves of the palace, the guardsmen moved to a smaller, attached structure. Inside was an obvious guards barracks, with rooms sleeping a dozen elves, racks for arms and armor, and smaller offices. The guard captain and the elves escorting the prisoner moved down a short hallway. As you followed, you felt a wave of magic wash over you, stripping you of any magical spells, protections, or enchantments. Even your magic weapons and items felt dull and lifeless. It was no wonder that the captain didn't ask you to disarm before entering the cell!
In the room at the end of the hall, there was a chair, sitting on a small enchanted circle engraved into the floor. The prisoner was set into the chair, and the manacles on her arms and legs were removed and replaced by the ones attached to the chair. The captain stood back and said "Now we wait."
It wasn't long before another elf arrived, a female with multiple earrings in her left ear, with the hair shaved on that side of the head. The other ear was bare, and the hair on that side was long and flowing. She had with her a book and a case. The book she set on a nearby shelf. The case she sat on the floor and opened it to show, not an array of shining metal instruments suited for the destroying of tender flesh, but row upon row of tiny bottles.
Reaching into the case, without saying a word to you or the guard captain, she selected two vials. The first was filled with a purplish liquid that had a silvery sheen to it, and she tipped it into the prisoner's mouth, holding the woman's head back and massaging the throat to get her to swallow. The second looked like it was filled with a yellow gas of some sort. When the alchemist popped the cork and held the vial beneath the unconscious woman's nose, the woman awoke with a jerk. Her eyes went wide as she noticed her precarious position.
"Do your worst torture, you bastards! I will not talk. The Winter Council has already passed their judgement on you and your actions!"
The guard captain smiled, and said "Of course you will talk. You have already started, though you do not even realize it."
"No, they cannot make me say anything. If I just sit here without talking, not even a truth spell can make me talk. You cannot tell lies from truth if no words are spoken. But then, what is to happen to me? Villastir will not be happy. They were supposed to be asleep. Helpless. Easy to capture or to kill. That's not what happened though, is it? And he will not be happy that his plan failed, or that they captured me. I must hold out until he can have me freed. Surely his power can get me out? Most likely he'll just have me killed though. I cannot believe Jieroth underestimated them so. We should have brought double the men, with magical support. That damned barbarian was so easy to put down the first time, but then he popped back up, and that little goblin. Someone should have just cut the runty's head off. Cannot imagine why they let goblin trash like that into the city. Damned things are not even people. More like green-skinned monkeys. Not like the halfies. They at least have some decent blood swimming around in the rest of the filth they carry. Diseased? Most likely. And probably rutting around all night with that barbarian. Do you think they both pleasure him at once? Probably, knowing what filth those dirtbloods normally are."
The words poured out of the woman as the alchemist smiled. The prisoner's eyes grew even wider as she realized what was happening. You could see her trying to stop the fount of words pouring from her mouth, but nothing she did stopped the spew of hatred, insults, racism, and most importantly, names. Finally, in desperation, she closed her eyes. The captain seemed to sense what was going to happen, but he was too slow. The woman's tongue flopped into her lap as a stream of blood fountained from her still moving mouth. The words were now impossible to make out, and the woman tipped her head back and began inhaling sharply, couching and choking on her own blood.
The captain bent her forward, calling out for a healing potion. The alchemist passed him one, but the woman's thrashing body knocked it from his hand to shatter upon the stone floor.
As they travel, Calla warns the guards that several of their attackers escaped.
Calla's nostrils flare as the elf begins to die.
"Calistria take you," she growls, reaching for one of her own potions and holding it out.
The desire for more information from the would-be murderer barely outweighs Calla's desire for her to get the painful death she deserves.
Bruendor narrows his eyes at the guard captain during the admonishment he was receiving, but offers no retort. He simply crosses his arms, and lets those with cooler heads at the moment handle the situation.
Bruendor watches with interest as the captured loyalist speaks, the words spilling from her mouth like a river pouring over a cliff. "Is that something you can concoct, AB?", he asks the goblin, relying on the wizard's great knowledge of all things alchemical. "Because that's...that's frightening."
It's possibly due to the unnerving way the captive divulges the conspiracy that he doesn't react until she bites through her tongue. At that point, instinct takes over. "Lef! Help me hold her down! Kel, staunch her bleeding! Magics may not work in here!"
Anklebiter bares his teeth at the Winter Council soldier's slurs in an expression that is not a smile, but does not interrupt her.
When Bruendor asks his question, the little Wizard replies: "You know, I have no idea."
Anklebiter tips his hat (of disguise) at the Alchemist and quietly addresses her: "My compliments on your skill, madame. Would you be opposed to talking shop when opportunity allows?"
When the Winter Council soldier mutilates herself and tries to commit suicide, the Goblin grimaces and offers up a healing potion to whoever can get it down the wretched Elf's throat!
Lefrik seems quite at ease with the lack of magic. And shares information that he knew of those that ran "This Winter Council appears to be willing to think they know better than you're Queen it seems."
At the comments of racism that pours from the she-elf's mouth, he looks angry, VERY angry, at what is said of his allies, then he shakes his head, "i wonder if she realizes how much she sounds like every narrow minded peasant among human kind?"
then she tries to die, he helps hold her still to prevent thrashing "if magical healing won't work here, you'll need another way as said."
Kel tries her best to aid the efforts to save the woman without using magic.
Bruendor and Lefrik grabbed the woman to try and hold her in place, even as Kelendra started trying to figure out what to do. Anklebiter's potion was thrust aside as the alchemist lunged forward with another vial. "Your potion will be inert for a few hours more, goblin. Captain, use try again and for the heavens' sake don't drop this one!"
The captain got the top off of the vial and slammed it into the prisoner's mouth, chipping a tooth in the process. The potion's healing magics suffused the prisoner's body, which immediately began to spasm. The bloody gash that is her mouth turned up in a grin as, instead of healing her, the curative magics tear her body apart from the inside. There was nothing to be done. By the time anyone could think of an alternative solution, the body was still.
Kelendra's healing knowledge told her that somehow the prisoner's body reacted to the healing magics as if they were negative energy instead.
Calla shrugs.
"She got what she deserved, even if it deprived us of some information," she said.
"But I suspect you know more than we," she adds to the captain, trying to be more conversational than confrontational as is her wont. "Can you tell us anything of this Winter Council? Do you recognize the names she used? We need to know where to aim our arrows next, and what this group of elves is that would try to stop us!"
"This Winter Council must at least be clever enough to prepare their soldiers so they cannot be forced to survive," Anklebiter muses.
"So yes, what is this Winter Council? Are they allies to the Drow?"