With a frown, Hrafen targets the bandit with the bow.
Durielle picks herself off the ground when Vladimir calls out the attack.
"Sorry everyone. Sometimes my head is...elsewhere," her voice trails off sadly.
As the bandits begin to move threateningly, the oracle falls to a knew to steady her draw. Hrafen releases deadly magical energy once again without warning, and her mouth tightens slightly.
Pulling her arrow's fletching to her cheek, she takes aim but holds her fire. In a commanding voice she calls out, "Throw down your weapons...this future ends naught in sadness and pain. As you can see, we have the means to end you. But there is still time for you to change your path and choose to live."
Hrafen's arcane bolts rip through the foliage, whip around the apparent captives, and slam into the chest of the bowman. He swears loudly in pain and surprise, then heaves getting his wind back.
"Lets get'em!" The other bandits move toward Hrafen. "Fists" shoves the captive male flat to the ground, and yanks the female to her feet by her bound wrists. He drags a few feet closer to the campfire, looks toward Durielle, and simply responds "No, you!"
Durielle's arrow catches the club-wielder in the meat above his hip. "Grrr. We'll see if you can get another nocked before I knock you out, hun!", the clubber picks up speed. The swordsman looks hesitant - a concerned look after Durielle's call for surrender, and glancing to Topper, but still advances. The bowman retreats... though his bow and drawn arrow are still in hand.
Topper's tune changes, he strums and releases his lute. The instrument hovers, and somehow continues accompanying the bard.
He gestures with one hand, and continues singing ...
"You see these mean thugs I'm leading,
Their weapons tear flesh,
Their weapons break bone,
Yes we'll deal with yoooou right and proper
For I am Red Topper,
And I'll make your *^%$ &$#& my oooown."
... unfurls a whip from his belt and cracks at the air with a half-crazed grin.
Confidence returns to the swordsman's grizzled face.
The captive man pleads incoherently through sobs. The woman struggles futilely - pushing and clawing at the beefy arm of the bruiser holding her closer to the fire.
Marisol races down the hillside to the trunk of the nearby tree. As she goes she pulls the dagger from her belt and speaks arcane words, and the blade rises into the air and assumes a guard position in front of her. She keeps the tree to her back to make it harder for the archer to draw a bead on her as she pulls out her cutlass and prepares to fight.
Vladimir moves in closer, taking advantage of the cover provided by the bear trap and the tree, as he begins an oratory expounding upon the virtues of law and the evils of rampant banditry.
Balter's blades fly out of their sheathes, the longsword in his right hand and the shortsword in his left, the latter being held in a reverse grip. He casts a glance over at Hrafen and the approaching bandits, moving in that direction to lend the halfling his aid.
Hrafen fires another volley of force missiles at the bowman, hoping to finish him off.
He then spurs his mount off to one side.
Durielle will rise, lowering her bow and raising her hand.
"You refuse to see. Allow me to show you what awaits you in death, so you may make a better choice."
Durielle reaches for one of the many visions which disturb her sight. The act makes her dizzy, but she finds the one she needs. Closing her hand as if grasping the vision, she pantomimes shooting her bow at the club-wielding bandit while a magical current rushes from her towards the man.
Range close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)
Target one humanoid creature
Duration 1d4 rounds
Saving Throw Will negates; Spell Resistance yes
Depending on the creature's alignment and its adherence to its ethos, you can provide it a brief glimpse of the reward or punishment that waits for it when it dies by showing it a mental image of its destined plane in the afterlife. If the target is good-aligned, it is fascinated for 1d4 rounds on a failed save. If the target is neutral-aligned, it is confused for 1d4 rounds on a failed save. If the target is evil-aligned, it is shaken for 1d4 rounds on a failed save.
The swordsman yells out - not looking back - as Hrafen fires his arcane bolts... "Get him with the arrow! Use the arrow!"
The bowman is knocked down hard upon the scrap of the building's ruins by the bolts of force, and does not respond or move.
The club-wielder blinks a couple times then points his weapon toward Durielle. "You stop that!"
He then growls in frustration at the sight of Hrafen trotting away. "Outta my way! Skull-crackin' for alla ya!"
Glaring at the two between Hrafen and himself, the clubber charges and swings at Balter's head - muttering his expectations under his breath... "naptime..."
The swordsman nods his head toward Marisol "Another caster!", and charges toward her.
The bruiser barks a string of curses, drops the woman into the campfire, and jogs toward the fallen bowman. He grabs the bow, and begins fishing around for the arrow.
The captive woman rolls out of the fire, and with her bound hands, quickly shoves loose dirt onto where her hem had caught flame.
Red Topper continues his singing... the lyrics become vulgar and ultra-violent, as he rounds the corner face to face with Vladimir.
He lashes out with his barbed whip while alluding to the bard's "pious puffery" in his lyrics.
Missing, he winks and makes a goofy, taunting expression at Vladimir as if he'd meant to just distract him from spewing his self-righteous oration.
Whether intentional or not, the other bard's taunts seem to have their desired effect as Vladimir steps forward, challenging the red haired man before slashing with his blade.
(inspire)
(inspire, challenge)
Cornered by the bandit with the longsword, Marisol unleashes another incantation as she weaves her cutlass through the air and then lunges at the swordsman. The floating dagger dances back and forth, guarding her against any other strikes as she lunges forward with her shining mithral cutlass wreathed in flame.
Marisol then takes a moment to get her bearings with her back against the tree. The swordsman's sudden attack seems to have rocked her guard a little more than expected, though her own counterstrike is quite strong.
(inspired)
(inspired)
Warding weapon duration: 1/4 rounds
Red Topper pauses his verse, and silently mouths "wow" as Marisol's flaming thrust catches his eye. Looking back to Vladimir... "You do know how to wield that slim sword, do you not Good Sir Jabberjaw? Grip too loose, or too tight.. Perhaps better now to just defend, and wait for some aid?" He cocks his head indicating Marisol.
The swordsman howls in pain - inner elbow and rib sliced and burned.... "Topper!"
Balter lazily pulls his head out of the path of the clubber's weapon, evading a potentially painful blow.
"Yes, naptime," he replies with a sneer, stepping in to take advantage of the opening presented to him. He attacks with both blades at once, one with a devastating swing, and the other with a powerful thrust.
Balter lazily pulls his head out of the path of the clubber's weapon, evading a potentially painful blow.
"Yes, naptime," he replies with a sneer, stepping in to take advantage of the opening presented to him. He attacks with both blades at once, one with a devastating swing, and the other with a powerful thrust.
[dice=Longsword Attack]1d20+7
[dice=Damage]1d8+4
[dice=Shortsword]1d20+7
[dice=Damage]1d6+4[dice=Critical Confirmation (Longsword)]1d20+7
[dice=Critical Damage]1d8+4
[dice=Critical Confirmation (Shortsword)]1d20+7
[dice=Critical Damage]1d6+4
The club-wielder drops doubled-over - every vital organ torn. It takes his remaining few seconds to comprehend this is the end.
Durielle sighs sadly that her attempt to show the man his otherworldly reward is unsuccessful. More so as Balter shows the man the exact same thing, but the real and true version and not just a vision. Seeing the man who just shoved a woman in the fire picking up the downed archer's bow, Durielle draws a new arrow and swiftly nocks it. She aims carefully for one of the two hands he will need to use the weapon.
"Will you not relent? You are fools! Do not think justice will not reach...you!" Durielle cries out, a touch of anger lending heat and her incandescent eyes flicker briefly with light.
Just as she says you, she releases the arrow sending it as a message of consequences.
"Will you still not yield and end this folly?" Durielle yells to the man. Her oracular power seems to coalesce around visibly making her appear more awesome and beautiful.
Demoralize: You can use this skill to cause an opponent to become shaken for a number of rounds. The DC of this check is equal to 10 + the target's Hit Dice + the target's Wisdom modifier. If you are successful, the target is shaken for 1 round. This duration increases by 1 round for every 5 by which you beat the DC. You can only threaten an opponent in this way if they are within 30 feet and can clearly see and hear you. Using demoralize on the same creature only extends the duration; it does not create a stronger fear condition.
Hrafen fires of volley of force missiles into the man picking up the bow.
Durielle's arrow flays the bruiser above the knuckle on his left hand. He makes a teeth-clenched growl to fight-off the pain, and struggles to even raise the bow to aim.
Hrafen's arcane bolts pepper him til he drops.
The swordsman holds a defensive near-cowering posture - fear in his voice... "Come up with somethin quick, Top!"
Topper Red stops singing - though the lute plays on...
"Me? You're the one who insisted on attacking the priest despite my pleas to cease, and now it's just you, me, and the two horses."
The swordsman suddenly breaks, and runs toward the river.
Topper drops his whip, and puts up his hands.
Topper's comment was intended to make the swordsman run for it rather than surrender. Surrendering himself, clearly he knows fleeing successfully is unlikely.
"On your knees." Vladimir says to the redheaded bard, sword in hand ready to strike should Topper try anything.
Calling out to the swordsman, "You would be well advised to stop and surrender. Your 'friend' knows that running will not go well for you."
Hrafen calmly puts a volley of force missiles into the bandit's retreating back.
Seeing that the battle has turned, Marisol pushes some errant hairs out of her face, realizes that the swordsman probably didn't survive Hrafen's parting spell , and then jogs to the bandits' prisoners.
"Are you injured?" she asks as she sheathes her cutlass and offers a hand up. "Are there any other prisoners in this encampment?"
Seeing the bandits down or dead, Durielle stows her bow and sways dizzily. A trickle of blood falls from her nose, and moving somewhat slowly she dabs it with the rag of a scarf she uses for such things. After a moment she appears to recover and makes her way to the prisoners and examines them and treats their injuries with quiet words of comfort. Her illness is more evident now than it has been lately if her pallid appearance is anything by which to measure.
"Do not worry, we will see you safe and do our best to make this right."
Gesturing to Balter, she asks, "Will you accompany me in treating and bringing the rest of the wounded bandits to the bear trap? It seems to be a good place to keep them for now."
"Assuming it's not currently occupied by a bear," Marisol adds wryly as she steps back and lets Durielle handle the healing arts. She turns on her heel and moves cautiously in the direction of the structure, wondering if perhaps it is occupied by a bear.
Hearing Vladimir's warning, the swordsman looks back before mounting - and sees Topper unarmed, and dropping to his knees. He takes a just a few seconds to decide to drop his weapons... he walks back toward camp with his hands up.
Topper shakes his head and tsks to Vladimir "Mistake that... harder to kill when the battle's over. Pitiable eyes... like a woeful underfed pup. He knows diddle, and is worth his weight only in spit - and that's before you lop off a digit. But... good folk you are, eh? Albatrosstic at times... being such good folk, no?"
The bound man and woman man welcome Marisol's aid - smiling to her, but both clearly emotional... they hold each other for a moment after being cut free. The man is unhurt other than a few bruises. The woman has a minor burn on her leg. The woman thanks Durielle after she quickly cleans and dresses the burn.
Durielle finds the lookout is still breathing as well as the bruiser. Bowman and club-wielder have both passed on. The swordsman's wounds were already cauterized by Marisol's sword. Durielle has a little difficulty stopping the bruiser's bleeding - multiple cuts around the knuckles and palm.
Seeing traditional healing isn't working, Durielle looks for a possible future in which the bruiser perhaps threw down his arms or Hrafen's magic found another target. When she thinks she's found one, she attempts to bring the essence of that possible time into the current essentially erasing the man's wounds.
The bruiser's hand heals enough for the bleeding to stop. A moment later he opes his eyes, and groans. He shows no sign of appreciation for Durielle saving his life.
On the bear trap structure, one of portcullises is chained and padlocked shut to eye-bolts driven into the stone. The other side is the same, except the padlock is dangling open. Inside, you see six crates filled with bottles of alcohol, a four kegs of plain water.
Marisol looks over the structure, then turns back to the party and says, "I don't see any bears here, just some crates and kegs. We could probably move all the storage out and the prisoners in."
Balter flicks the blood off his blades before walking over to join the others. Only then does it really occur to him that the battle is over. Looking at the surviving bandits with a hint of disgust, he sheathes his swords.
Hearing Marisol's words, he approaches the unlocked portcullis and pulls away the chain and padlock, before attempting to open it up.
Once Balter has the gate open, Marisol takes a quick once-over of the structure to make sure that it's reasonably secure, then helps with moving the crates and kegs. Noticeable during this process is that, while she seems to be reasonably fit, she's apparently quite a bit stronger than she looks (though still not as strong as Balter).
As Balter disregarded her request for aid, Durielle is forced to leave the injured bandits where they lie, being as her own strength and constitution are not made for the arduous work of trying to bring their heavy forms to the improvised jail. Instead she approaches Whisper and mounts her. She briefly peers into the future to gain guidance in how best to convince the other mounts to allow her to lead them to the where the others wait.
While the others see to the captives and the bear trap, Vladimir begins to question the leader of this particular band.
"You must be Topper Red. I saw a bit of your handy work hung around the neck of a murdered man about a month ago." Vladimir says matter-of- factly. "Your villiany is known to us. Even so, you will be given a chance to change your ways...you have a choice to make." the swordsman says loudly enough that Topper's minions can hear as well. "One that has been given to every bandit we have dealt with, repent and make a mends for your past transgressions or be paid the wages for your past deeds."
"Around the neck..." Topper's expression turns distant as his mind works to recall. He remembers.. "Ah yes... Had to be done. I've a hunch you might appreciate my paintings more than those sorts of works." He shrugs dismissively. "What can I say... I dabble in whatever Arts move me."
Trying his best to ignore Topper's obvious goading, Vladimir continues...
"Judging by the quantities of alcohol and what I am sure were ill intentions for the woman you had captured, I assume that you are still in league with this so called Stag-Lord. What do you know of his former lieutenant who has struck out on his own?" Again, asking the other bandits as much as Topper.
After moving one of the crates, Marisol realizes that Durielle needs some help with the prisoners, and pauses her object-shuffling to help with that.
"I suppose we should tie them up? I don't own any manacles," Marisol says to Durielle. "Or if the locks and bolts are secure enough, that might not be necessary. Though it will make it easier if we have to move them at some point."
"I have some rope in Whisper's saddlebags," Durielle says helpfully.
Marisol nods in response and cautiously approaches Whisper in hopes of finding the rope without getting bitten or stomped by a skittish warhorse. After a bit of back-and-forth she comes back with the length of rope.
Topper frowns and scoffs "Hyperbole now, my fellow wordsmith? No more in league with the Stag Lord than a merchant to his patrons. Does the shopkeep share blame for how and where a paying customer places the sharpened head of his axe?"
"Dovan's a patron as well. What do I know... The man does enjoy tarantella while wielding his blade, grim tales of vengeance, and depictions of violence in black and vivid reds."
"I can see how you'd assume so with regard to the good miss." He looks over to the two "All's well now, eh? Back to Elmere? Have a safe trip."
"Given the nature of your past deeds, or at least the ones I know of, I have serious doubts about any remorse or desire to change on your part. What will it be, Topper, the sword or the rope?" Vladimir asks, taking no particular joy in the question.
Marisol binds the other prisoners with the rope, double-checks the structure to make sure they can't get out easily if they escape the ropes, and helps Balter to finish moving the crates and kegs outside.
Durielle approaches Marisol when she's finished.
"Would you like me to see to your wound?"
"Ah, yes, please. I think it's just a strain in the wrist, here, he hit my guard stance pretty hard and my arm's a bit sore, but nothing seems to be sliced up or broken."
Durielle places a hand on Marisol's injured arm. The oracle once again attempts to merge the time stream of another possible future with the actual one.