The still surviving, still defiant goblin commando counterattacks against Darnak's flurry of misses with his horsechopper. And comes up with a clean miss himself. In fact, he doesn't come close to Darnak as the irregular blade of the horsechopper goes over the dwarf's head.
Alesta cast another daze spell. This time at the goblin commando hoping her spell would buy her comrades time to strike.
Meanwhile, Father Zantus moves up to a somewhat protected position to heal Baldek (for 10 hp).
cure light wounds: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Victory can be seen!
Finding that he has no clear targets, and with his mace lying on the ground out of reach, Ahdak hesitates for a moment before moving to assist Baldek and Darnak. He utters a prayer, in a near-whisper, before a spark of light erupts from his hand to burst around the goblin. The dazzling light outlines the creature in a shimmering halo of yellow and red light. Perhaps the dim-witted creature will be too distracted by the light to effectively attack my companions. They are proving to be more tenacious foes than I anticipated, however.
The goblin feels the tug of the daze spell but easily shrugs it off. So easily, in fact, that a loud "Hah ha! escapes his lips... just as a cloud of stardust forms around him and Baldek winds up for a swing. With a loud CRACK, the goblin slumps off his goblin dog and to the ground.
The dog on the western edge of the conflict (the red commando's) tries to bite a chunk out of Karl Sarvo. He succeeds (for 7 hp of damage).
The pain of his new wound caused him to clench his teeth, he was more used to the bite of cold steel than teeth. Still both hurt about the same and both would kill him if he wasn't careful in avoiding them. Soon enough more focused and composed look returned to his face, but now they were accompanied by a more sweat ridden brow, his eyes bore into the creature not only out of hate but also out of the desire to find any quirks or habits in its movements.
Karl shifted to the right, still he studied the thing as it moved in response to his movement. He saw many a moment to strike but did not take them, he was waiting for a certain hole in its primal defense to form in his mind and when it was clear, he gave the thing a sinister, tooth filled grin.
Grass and dirt flew to the goblin dog's face because of Karl's kick to the ground. That minor distraction was in theory supposed to draw the mount's attention away from the descending axe that hungered to part its flesh and spill its blood.
Darnak nods at his fellow dwarf as he takes down the goblin. "Nice work," he says as he now turns his attacks to the goblin dog that remains.
The goblin dog attacked by Karl flinches away from the axe. But the one caught between Baldek and Darnak is unable to completely divide his attention and takes a solid blow from Darnak. In response and badly hurt, the goblin dog tries to make a break for it. This leaves it open to quick attacks from both Baldek and Darnak.
Baldek misses, but Darnak doesn't and delivers another hard chop that lays the goblin dog low.
Alesta quickly hears Baldek's warning and quickly hurls a daze spell at the monster.
"Don't worry! I'll try and slow it down," the aasimar yelled at the dwarves.
With just one combatant left, Nadine grows confident. "We've got this! Take the beast down!""
Ahdak reloads his crossbow with as much haste as he can muster as he sees the final foe fleeing. Cowardly creatures, content to prey on the weak but all too ready to flee at the first strong resistance. A jackal has more honor. Taking aim, he fires his bolt at the fleeing creature.
The goblin dog mixing it up with Karl starts shaking its head in an effort to clear it rather than attacking anybody.
Once more Karl takes a swing at the wild mount, the axe whistling through the air as it descended upon its hide.
Darnak takes off back toward the others, ready to put an end to this battle.
The goblin dog once again barely evades Karl's axe. How long can its luck hold?
"That creature is a wonder!" Aldern Foxglove says with some awe in his voice. Then he looks about sheepishly. Ahem... but, er, Go, Heroes of Sandpoint!" he cheers on his saviors.
Alesta was puzzled by the nobleman's comment, but pushed it aside and returned her focus to the battle at hand.
Speaking in Celestial, her voice sounding beautiful and heavenly, she pointed her hand at the goblin dog.
The goblin dog, in fact, fails to "dodge that" as good luck comes Bad-Luck Baldek's way. With a single swing, he crushes the skull of the goblin dog and it flops to the ground unmoving.
With the battle over and everyone able to catch their breaths, it becomes apparent that tide of the goblin menace has turned. A few stragglers can be seen sprinting as fast as they can away from the town - up into the forest along the Lost Coast Road - from your vantage point near the north gate.
Elsewhere about the time, Sheriff Hemlock's constables seem to be putting things in order, the last bits of goblin violence being quelled.
"Good show, everyone. I am in your debt." says Aldern Foxglove. "Thank you. Thank you," he repeats, "for saving my life. I should like to thank you and reward you properly. Where are you staying? I will be staying in town a few more days and would like to call, perhaps at a less trying time, so that I may begin to settle this great debt of gratitude."
Father Zantus also speaks up. "I must take my leave to tend to others injured or done to death by these vile creatures. Such an auspicious day turned to sorrow. If you need further ministrations by me or my acolytes, come see me. I will do my best to put you right."
Looking impressed, "Good one, Baldek. Didn't know ya had it in ya," he says with a wry grin.
Turning to the bystander, "Bah!" he says as he waves him off. "A reward is not necessary, sir. I'll never tolerate goblins... you know... ta live. I hate 'em. For this very reason," he motions to the destruction wrought by the creatures.
Devastation and misery forced peace and joviality out of Sandpoint on this day. Their brushwork left a painting of partially burned buildings and stalls and strewn, mutilated cadavers. The stench of blood hung heavy in the air a harbinger to the smell of decay that would follow; both scents were not foreign to Sarvo, nor was the celebratory calls of the raven that had already began to gather around their prizes.
You won't know a battle is over till you see dark feathers Karl walked through the ruins of their battle, making his way to the nobleman they had saved. The words of the fellow were expected, and while some may turn down his gratitude and choose a more altruistic path, Karl would be no different from the carrion birds that descended around them; he would find some benefit from the bloodshed, like he always did.
"We are staying at the Rusty Dragon. The food they serve will take this whole scrap out of your memory. Lets talk there, then continue our talk around corpses who have no interest in the words of the living"
"You're welcome, good sir Lord Foxglove," Alesta says in her melodic beautiful voice.
"Again, I'm deeply sorry for the loss of your beloved dog. I'm glad that I was able to divert the goblins' attention away from you as long as I could. My name is Alesta, and I'll be staying at the Rusty Dragon as well."
She then smiles at the nobleman.
As the beast falls, Nadine jumps for joy - and then promptly adjusts her hood. She didn't know if any one saw her, or even cared at this point, but it was probably best to play it safe and see how others reacted, if at all. She looks at the ruined festival, at the destruction around her, and her joy is tempered. She joins the others, standing next to Alesta, and listens to the conversation in silence.
Direct contact with the goblin dogs has left both Karl and Darnak a little itchy - the creatures seem to trigger the most intense allergies - but neither is impaired and the itch fades shortly thereafter.
"I can see that the Rusty Dragon is the place to be! I shall meet you there shortly. I am not yet in a proper state for sharing drinks or bread in a public room. I need to see to my dead dog and the blood on my waistcoat first. But fear not, I shall see my pledge through." He looks thoughtfully at Baldek for a moment. "Though... I may stop off at one or two other places on my way to make additional arrangements that Baldek has inspired. Until we meet again," he makes a sweeping bow to the group, though his eyes linger longest as they fall on Alesta.
The route back toward the Rusty Dragon passes through the main part of town. Townsfolk, shaken by the attack, are hustling to their homes, but many kind words are said of the valor of these travelers who seem to have come for the festival only to defend the town in a dark hour. None of them take any time to chat, but "Thank yous" come in passing along with a few pats on the back and a good many "Desna's blessings".
Near the center of the town, by the town hall, Sheriff Hemlock and his guards are securing a trio of live goblins in manacles under the supervision of Mayor Deverin. "See what you can get from them, Belor," she says. "I will try to get a message out to Shalelu. She may have more information on what the goblin tribes are doing."
Sobbing and wails was the chorus that awaited the end of their battle, and it was rare indeed when the swan song of bloodshed didn't involve such tragic melodies. The sights that accompanied the pained echoes were quite fitting; uninjured men and women helping those who were not so lucky. Decimated store fronts, their lumber here and there, with its offspring of splinters strewn around them. The blackened stones of homes that had known the bite of fire, and the still rising trails of smoke that scarred the slowly darkening sky. It was all too familiar to Karl, his long strides slowed not because of what he was experiencing but because of the blows that he had taken, but they would heal, he was glad his itch was gone too.
A surprise to the hardened man though was the glimmer of hope and gratitude that shined in the eyes and echoed in the words of these people. He was not used to such things, and often he'd look back awkwardly, before nodding to those these men and women. Karl had fought for his own reasons and survival as he usually did, and he wasn't used to his selfishness being complimented It isn't like they have to know, and besides a good bounty hunter and sellsword needs some renown
Finally they came upon the sheriff, a person that Karl knew would probably be responsible for a score of jobs in the future...if he played his cards right. He had hoped that his fighting would do the job for him, but his poor showing against that last mutt had crushed that hope, still his willingness to stand against a raid should amount to something with the man...a raid that seemed all too convenient to be random, and he did not know much of goblins but what he heard from Darnak pretty much assured him that they were not known for their cleverness.
"The attack seemed too perfect; to happen on a day where you all would be busy...or are goblins attacks of this scale common in this area?" Grey eyes studied the sheriff, the way he moved, his expression, any pattern or clues as to what the man was like.
"Also I could not help but overhear that you needed to learn some information from these goblins...I can help you with that"
Karl walked to one of the captured goblins, a sinister smirk has crawled on to his scarred and stubble ridden face, he slowly took his axe out of his harness, the blade of it still had some blood from the previous battle, he put the edge to the goblin's neck "You remember what this did to your friends? If you want to join them, I'd be happy to help you...or maybe your a talker? You like being alive, yes? even though you're chained like a dog...your friends killed a bunch of dogs today, and seeing how now your in the position of one, but far less useful..." The edge dinged just a bit deeper into its flesh.
Sheriff Hemlock, approached by Baldek first, raises an eyebrow at the dwarf's queries. "Are you volunteering to join the guard? If someone has the goblin tribes riled up and working together, I'll need all the soldiers I can get. If you are in earnest, come by the garrison in the morning. Right now, I have to deal with this lot," he says, indicating the goblins.
He follows up, addressing Karl's question. "Goblins cause trouble enough, but usually just to lone travelers or farmsteads. They haven't attacked Sandpoint since shortly after the town was settled. Usually, they just pick through the trash pile under the cliff. But if you think you can make sense of goblin rambling, you may try to question them."
The goblin Karl approaches turns out to be fairly pliable, if somewhat defiant. "Yes. Many dogs. Some horses too," he says with a savage glee. "Even some longshanks fall to goblins and homes burn. But not enough, town is still here. Longshanks is still here."
"Aye, Longshanks is still here" Karl's smile widened "So if you want to be here as well, you'll tell me why you've attacked the town, and who is giving you orders"
Heaving a sigh of relief, Ahdak slowly lowers his weapon, looking about him with an inscrutable expression. Ash and fire seem to have followed me from the plateau and have brought grief to this town in a time of happiness. Is this what the spirits have set for me? To bring a trail of fire in my wake? Surely there is more to the task before me then this wasteful death. He nods, distractedly, to the noble, barely acknowledging what was being said. He trails along with his companions, taciturn and withdrawn, barely acknowledging the words of thanks from the townsfolk as he continued to mull over his brooding thoughts.
As they reach the center of town, Ahdak is pulled from his melancholic reflection by a familiar accent. Looking up, his gaze settles on the sheriff who had been so enraged by his presence earlier. Face expressionless, he listens to the Shoanti sheriff silently. I do not understand this man. He is of my people, but he acts as if he is not. Perhaps he has forsaken our ways? Is that to be my fate as well? To drag fire and ash in my wake, to wander without a hearth to call my own? I must seek the spirit's wisdom soon, as there is too much to consider at this time. A gentle nibble on his ear draws his attention. Nodding in acknowledgement of Noctua's wisdom, he clears his throat and speaks, "If there are injured, I may be able to assist your people's healers. I am a shaman of the Lyrune-Quah, and some of the healing arts are taught to us. I am not a healer of great power or renown, but I can help if you will accept it."
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Sheriff Hemlock regards Ahdak coldly and assessingly then, apparently satisfied with whatever he found, gives a slight nod. "Go see Father Zantus at the cathedral. He will put you to use where he thinks you will do the most good."
Meanwhile, under Karl's stern interrogation, multiple goblins speak up, all talking over each other, to answer his question why they attacked the town. "Food. Loot. Burning. Food. Dead dogs, huh huh. Food. Shiny. Silver. Humans is jerks. You is jerk. No, you is jerk!" and though shackled, they jostle with each other in a quarrelsome manner, each trying to make sure his answer is the one Karl is listening to. The one most under Karl's blade, however, shouts over the others, "Shut up!" Then he grins, "Longshanks give orders. Scarbelly say we listen to Mopeyman. Mopeyman send goblins at town while he go to boneyard."
Alesta nodded to the nobleman, although she wondered why his eyes lingered on her for a lot longer than the others. Pushing it aside, she turned back to the others as well as the people of Sandpoint.
She followed close to her fellow adventurers and she was amazed by the countless thanks by the townsfolk.
"You're quite welcome. I'm just glad we were able to help protect your town."
"Thank you and may the Empyreal Lady Zohls bless you as well," the feather-headed aasimar said.
She watched the interrogation of the goblins while putting the pieces together. She was curious as to why the goblins had attacked the town.
When the goblin said boneyard and Mopeyman, she started to see the pieces connecting with one another!
"If I'm not mistaken, I think when this goblin says 'boneyard,' he might be speaking of Sandpoint's graveyard or cemetery. And also, someone, probably not a goblin was the mastermind of this atrocious attack. Not sure about that one actually since Mopeyman might be a common goblin name."
The archaeologist hoped she had overstepped herself in helping with the interrogation.
Darnak makes his way over to Karl's interrogation and listens in. As the goblins talk over and scuffle with one another, he can't help but shake his head at their lack of discipline. It's a wonder how they haven't managed to eliminate their own kind from existence. Darnak then raises a questioning eyebrow at the term 'Mopeyman'. "'Mopeyman'? Who is this 'Mopeyman'?"
"You heard my friend, answer him" Karl kept his eyes on the noisy pack, and especially the one who provided them with surprisingly useful information So they do have a desire for survival...and here I thought they were too mad for even that.
The goblin shrugs, "Mopeyman is... mopey man. He is longshanks. Looks lots at Scarbelly. Mopes when she not around. So he is Mopeyman. That his goblin name."
Sheriff Hemlock reacts to Alesta's analysis of the goblin's statement. "I don't like the sound of that. We didn't search the boneyard figuring the goblins would be focusing on the homes and people in their raid. Guards, put these creatures in the holding cell. The rest of you, if you are willing to see to the welfare of Sandpoint further, come with me. I'm going to fetch Father Zantus and get a look at the boneyard grounds."
"Count me in Sheriff!"
Alesta's sudden and abrupt reply to lend a hand catches even her off guard.
"Sorry. Got a bit overexcited there. But yes, I'll gladly assist you in searching the cemetery."
Ahdak nods his acknowledgement of the sheriff's suggestion, though he lingers a moment, fascinated and repulsed by the squabbling little murderers, though his carefully neutral expression doesn't reveal this. On his shoulder, Noctua puffs her feathers into a ball, hooting angrily, perhaps reflecting her master's mood. These beings are so like the fire that fascinates them. Dancing and darting and dangerous, all too ready to burn and consume what is around them until they too are gone. But no fire burns with the malice in their blackened souls. Heaving a sigh of disgust as the goblins are led away, he nods to the sheriff and adds, "I will assist you, should you have me. It is an affront that the bones of your ancestors would be disturbed. After these matters are seen to, I can perhaps help learn more from the vile beasts you have captured. I speak some words in their tongue."
"Might as well find out the reason behind this attack. I really can't see what they could be looking for in a graveyard...unless you are in the habit of burying the dead's valuables with them" Karl stepped away from the goblins, glad to escape the flood of words and senselessness that he almost drowned in.
"Whatever this "Mopeyman's" reason is he probably left a trail or a clue...if we are lucky maybe both"
"Might as well find out the reason behind this attack. I really can't see what they could be looking for in a graveyard...unless you are in the habit of burying the dead's valuables with them" Karl stepped away from the goblins, glad to escape the flood of words and senselessness that he almost drowned in.
"Whatever this "Mopeyman's" reason is he probably left a trail or a clue...if we are lucky maybe both"
Darnak nods. "I'm with you, lad. The reasonin' behind this attack and whoever this 'Mopeyman' is has me curiosity runnin' high. And if he's got goblins workin' for him and he's nowhere ta be seen, then there's obviously more ta this than some random goblin attack." Darnak follows along behind the others.
Sheriff Hemlock leads the way back to the town cathedral. He finds Father Zantus lighting some blocks of incense in the sanctuary. The woody scent of this particular batch is soothing and tranquil. A few acolytes can still be heard tending to injured townspeople and visitors in an adjacent chamber.
"Belor, what can I do for you... and your company?" he adds as he scans across everybody accompanying the sheriff. A look of deep concern crosses his face, [b]"There isn't more trouble is there?"
"We aren't sure yet, Father." the sheriff says and then explains, "The goblins have given us enough information to believe that they had a human or near-human accomplice. They said one they called "Mopeyman"had a mission in the boneyard. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary."
"No, I haven't," Father Zantus answers, "but none of us have visited the cemetery since the attack. We haven't done any work to prepare for the burial of the dead yet. There isn't much of value there that would interest a goblin, so we figured the boneyard would be relatively secure."
"Do you mind if we check it out, Father?" the sheriff asks.
"I will come with you." Father Zantus answers. He takes a few moments to retrieve a shield, star knife, and mace from his office.
Ahdak follows the others mutely, observing the destruction wrought on the town in stoic silence. A day of frivolity and happiness now turned to bitter blood and ash. A great upheaval to the spirits here, to go from dancing and light-hearted gaiety to the blood-soaked despair in so short a time. This city will be licking its wounds for moons to come. Taken by the grim thoughts, he only notices that they are entering the cathedral as they cross its threshold.
He pauses, holding a reverent hand to the newly laid stone for a moment, as his gaze sweeps up to the vaulted ceiling above. He follows the others, standing to the side while the sheriff speaks with Father Zantus. He nods approvingly as the holy man offers to accompany them. Perhaps they are not so different here as the stories would have you believe. Their gods demand much of their holy men, just as the spirits and our totems demand much of me. This Father Zantus is an honorable man.
"Forgive me, Father, Sheriff, but I am not familiar with these lands or your people. Are there any we might expect to wish harm on your town? There is some lurking evil, if the goblins are to be believed, directing the attack here. Is there a rival tribe or... town?... nation?... I am not so sure of your terms, who would seek your town's destruction?"
Father Zantus and Sheriff Hemlock share a look as the priest shrugs and shakes his head. The sheriff explains, "Goblins are always a potential threat. They're mean, vicious, and destructive. They're also usually disorganized with tribes fighting each other more than us. Today is most definitely out of the ordinary."
Father Zantus elaborates further, "Most of our threats have come from within, what with the 'Late Unpleasantness' and all. The consecration of this new cathedral at the Swallowtail Festival was supposed to clean away the stain of that dreadful time. And here we are under attack by goblins... and perhaps shenanigans in the boneyard, one of our most sacred places."
"We had better get moving," Sheriff Hemlock prods. "We can discuss town history and other threats later." He leads the way out the cathedral's side exit and into the cemetery.
The cemetery grounds are actually fairly substantial, tended enough to be respectful yet not fully cultivated. The grass is a bit trampled, recently and by quite a few small feet. Nothing seems out of the ordinary to a first glance.
From a somber battlefield to a somber graveyard, if they had been tending to the dead os said battle, this would be where they would carry them...but ironically they were here on business with the living. The cemetery looked cared for, but not with too much zeal, and it mostly seemed undisturbed if one didn't count the vanquished grass Probably our goblin friends on their merry hunt He rolled his eyes at their routed foes, then focused on the disturbed foliage...hoping to gleam some clue or sign of where their friends went next.