DM Kaavek’s Scales of War (Inactive)

Game Master Kaavek

Dayana glances at the side to Jathal, quickly spitting out, "Think putting an arrow in the barrel of pitch would help or just make it worse?"

Refocusing her attention forward, Dayana attempts to lay the same hex upon the ogre again — perhaps this time, it would stick more firmly. Afterwards, she scampers away to press herself against the wall.

Will Save vs. Evil Eye: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17 •And he saves again! The Ogre will continue to take a -2 penalty to Attack Rolls for the next round.

This beast is big. Bahamut knows what will happen if it strikes me.

With a focused calm, Kra'el steps around the goblin with his shield forward and takes a fierce swing at the Ogre, connecting solidly.

Longsword Smite Power Attack: 1d20 + 5 - 1 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 5 - 1 + 3 = 24
Slashing Damage: 1d8 + 3 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 2 + 1 = 10

@Ingra remember that you add +1d6 damage to flanking attacks because of the Tactician Ability 4 posts above this one.

Jathal decides the Hobgoblin handing out pitch barrels needs to go. Taking a snap shot at him when her line is clear.

Cursing under her breath as it only wounds him lightly.

Longbow + PBS + IC: 1d20 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 4 + 1 + 1 = 17
Damage + PBS + IC : 1d8 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 = 4

"Blowing the barrels up while they're holding them would be preferable. Anything to empty them before they hit us" Ingra calls back to Dayana moving towards the Ogre's left, wedging it between her and Kra'el.

Clearly, talking and moving wasn't something Ingra souls be doing while also trying to attack. She swung so wide she almost lost her balance.

Attack roll: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 2 + 1 = 5
Damage: 3d6 + 3 ⇒ (5, 1, 1) + 3 = 10

Woah. Those were horrible. Damn.

Ingra’s words knocked something loose in Din’s mind. He'd have to look into that later. But for now he focused on the task at hand.

Din positioned himself just a bit closer and summoned a small bead of blue energy. The bead swirled and changed to purple and finally a deep red. Din released the energy in a flash of fiery heat at the cask the ogre held.

Ranged touch Ray of Frost(Fire): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
fire damage: 1d3 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Move action to get within range. Standard cast Ray of Frost. Free action using Evocation school ability to change damage type from cold to fire. 6 uses left for the day. Not sure what AC I'm aiming for with the cask of pitch.

Whoa, cool move Din! I hope it works! RAIN OF FIRE

Aelion clamped his teeth, trying to get ahold of himself. *Bryn is gone. It's past. This is now.*

shortbow flurry 1: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 3 + 1 = 9
shortbow dmg 1: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

shortbow flurry 2: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 3 + 1 = 18
shortbow dmg 2: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

He fired another two arrows at the hobgoblin who had targeted him, but was still barely able to graze it.

*This is ridiculous. Pull yourself together and pull your weight,* he reprimanded himself.

Zalindra moves farther down the wrap-around ledge and from her vantage a floor higher than everyone on the ground, she has a perfect sightline to the giant green thing bearing down on the town.

Attack: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 3 + 1 = 17
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Unfortunately, Zalindra is so shaken by the size of the thing that she doesn't shoot as well as she would have liked.

Not one to give up easily, Cecilia moved back and out, and once again attempted to use her whip to trip up the ogre.

Trip Attempt Vs Ogre CMD: 18: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

Unfortunately, the bard's second attack was even more unsuccessful than her the first. With a heave of just one of its immense legs, the monster ripped the crimson whip from Cecilia's hands, sending the weapon skittering across the dirt road.

For a single moment, the bard was at a loss. That whip was not some mere tool –to be discarded when convenient- it was a symbol of her family's heroic legacy! With a determined look on her face, Cecilia drew her rapier, eager to defeat their foes and reclaim her father's weapon.

Free Action: Maintain Bardic Performance , Free Action: Take a 5-Foot-Step , Standard Action: Trip Combat Maneuver against Ogre , Move Action: Draw Rapier

Tucking into the wall a bit he surveyed the scene and began to feel a little left out, but he was already bleeding and burnt enough that he'd have to bide his time and pick a better fight than simply blasting in for a swing. He wouldn't do anyone any good if any of their foes landed so much as a solid hit on him at this point, and he was already feeling a slight haze of double vision around the edges, "Well this is bloody embarrassing. Tucked up like a school boy in a still over here."

Lifting his shield he made to make a larger wall for Jathal and Dayana to work their magic while he tried to catch his breath and hopefully find an opportunity to be of more help.

Full Defense again (24 AC for now), omit other turns. Still have 2 more rounds on Precise Strike if you can get into flanking positions.

COMBAT ROUND 4
Battle Map

Aelion struggles to focus his attention on the moment as the hideously barbed black arrows flying around bare a striking similarity to those which felled his owl companion. Still he manages to wound the hobgoblin archer as Jathal wounds the one passing out the pitch.

The ogre suffers a fearsome wound from Kra’el before an arrow from Zalindra also clips it. It manages to tear Cecilia’s whip from her grasp before Dinvirte ignites the cask of pitch in its hand. The ogre panics and throws the cask back over its shoulder. Its quick thinking spares it and the Skirmisher in front from the worst of the inferno but the hobgoblins in the wagon are not so lucky. The green hob suffers a direct hit from the blast as Din’s fire spell causes the cask to explode. The hob dressed in brown also suffers horrific burns as the hot pitch sprays all over it. Some of the pitch lands on the cask behind the brown hobgoblin and the cask begins to smoulder.

The ogre swings it’s club in retaliation but with no real target it’s attack is easy to avoid. None of the other survivors manage a successful retaliation either as they writhe in pain.

Active Effects:
The light from the numerous fires burning around the intersection bathe the combat area in normal light.
Cecilia's song grants a +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects and a +1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls to all allies in range (blue circle).
The Goblin Skirmisher is marked by Dayana’s Evil Eye. Their AC is has been reduced by 2 for 5 rounds.
The Ogre is marked by Dayana’s Evil Eye. It takes a -2 penalty on attack rolls this turn.

Quick post from work to give Ingra flanking. Remember to add 1d6 damage for Precise Strike.

Kra'el takes a step up and swings again at the Ogre but his swing goes wide.

1d20 + 5 - 1 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 5 - 1 + 3 = 12

Dayana puffs out a sigh at Javos' comment, though a keen listener might note a hint of amusement in the tone. She mumbles, "It's not the worst thing."

Returning her focus to the ogre, she works on weaving another hex around him — this one to weaken the ugly creature's defenses.

Will Save vs. Evil Eye: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18 • -2 penalty to his AC for 1 round, bringing him down to AC 15

Zalindra takes another shot at the ogre.

Attack: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 1 = 8

But as she is moving over another ten feet, her bow slips and her arrow flies harmlessly into the ground.

Jathal gives Javos an approving smile. "Goodboy. Keep protecting the pretty ones."

Longbow + PBS + IC: 1d20 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 4 + 1 + 1 = 21
Damage + PBS + IC: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 + 1 = 8

Jathal ends the Hobgoblins suffering with a kind arrow.

Spotting the smoldering cask of pitch she yells out to Dinvarte. "Oi! Tailtalker, do you have anything to put out fires?"

Don't want it to explode and set any nearby buildings on fire.

Dashing forward, Cecilia strikes with her rapier. If she could not trip the ogre, then she would simply run it through.

Attack Roll Vs Ogre: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Unfortunately, even with both her and the dwarf dividing the ogre's attention, the bard could not land a single hit on the monster. Growing increasingly frustrated at her inability to hit her foes, Cecilia channeled all of her grievances into her words. If she could not harm their enemies with steel, then perhaps she could inspire her allies to harm them in her stead.

When the boredom makes us jumpy,
and the motion makes us ill,
when the food is cold and lumpy,
a disgusting, slimy swill,
there's no reason to be grumpy;
tap the keg, and drink your fill!

And we'll drink,
to the glory of adventure!

Free Action: Maintain Bardic Performance , Move Action: Move 30 Feet , Standard Action: Attack the Ogre with rapier

Dayana puffs out a sigh at Javos' comment, though a keen listener might note a hint of amusement in the tone. She mumbles, "It's not the worst thing."

As one explosion tosses cinders through the air he raises the shield and feels several pings off the steel front, "Better bored than dead, they say right?"

"Goodboy. Keep protecting the pretty ones."

Setting his shield he catches the elf's smile as she sets another arrow and laughs as she fires, "As the lady commands! But if you'd be so kind as to put a shaft through that goblin before he mauls Kra'el's ankles to kindling I'm sure he'd appreciate it too, ey?"

Again: Total Defense for 24 AC, 1 more round for Precise Strike if you can maneuver it. And free action to talk because that's what he does best, LoL

Seeing the ogre's hesitation as Dayana glared at it, Aelion took advantage of its distraction to fire another two shots at it.

shortbow flurry 1: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 3 + 1 = 15
shortbow dmg 1: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

shortbow flurry 2: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 3 + 1 = 14
shortbow dmg 2: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Despite Cecilia's steadying song, the bubbling rage within could simply not be calmed. Bryn, flying high, teasing me with a loop in the air, with a swoop down at the treeline... shot in the chest, crashing down to earth... shot with arrows just like these. Again, he barely grazed it with his arrow, the other missing entirely.

Barely restraining himself from yelling half-empty threats at the invaders, Aelion took a deep breath. "Wanderers within wander without," Zalindra heard him mutter, over and over again.

Happy New Year, all! Let's hope the dice roller lets us survive it... Also, Cecilia's song is absolutely awesome. Aelion wouldn't hit the broad side of a bard without it, and it's super creative and cool. A+, would join party with bard again.

Ingra can't help but feel pumped up after watching the display with the cask.

"Now that's more like it!" she beams moving to mirror Kra'el around the Ogre. "Hurts doesn't it ya green devils. "

Ingra swings her greatsword into the leg of the massive creature in front of her. It was like everyone outside of Hammerfist Hold was huge.

Distracted by her musings, she just misses again and begins to get frustrated.

Attack roll: 1d20 + 2 + 2 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 2 + 2 + 1 + 1 = 13 STR + flanking + bard + hatred

With the casks no longer an issue Din puffed out his chest ...and quickly deflated when he saw what Jathal was talking about. ”Tiefling! Tiefling! I don't do that water thing!” He hoped that since there didn't appear to be anything to flammable nearby that it would be easy to contain.

With one eye one the roaring flames, Din took a few steps forward, felt the magic swell in his chest, and cast his last first level spell for the day–Color Spray.

Ogre will save DC16: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Skirmisher will save DC16: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

Move action to step forward. Using point from Arcane Reservoir to bump DC up to 16. Standard casting Color Spray.

COMBAT ROUND 5
Battle Map

Kra’el, Cecilia and Ingra dance around the ogre, threatening it with wide swings and thrusts but none dealing a lethal blow. Aelion manages to wound it slightly as Dayana continues her hexes against the creature. Dinvirte sends a violent spray of colours toward the ogre. The dazzling display completely overloads the goblin skirmisher’s tiny mind and it slumps forward, unconscious. The ogre itself drops its greatclub and throws its hands up over its eyes.
Jathal puts an arrow through the remaining hobgoblin just before the cask behind it explodes and sends boiling pitch spattering across the ogre’s back and knocking it to the ground.
Unfortunately Cecilia’s lust for glory and growing frustration appear to have gotten the better of her as she finds herself caught in the blast too. Although she manages to dodge most of the burning pitch, she still pays grievously for her misstep (5 Damage).

Two casks remain in the burning wreckage of the wagon, smouldering ominously.

Active Effects:
The light from the numerous fires burning around the intersection bathe the combat area in normal light.
Cecilia's song grants a +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects and a +1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls to all allies in range (blue circle).
The Goblin Skirmisher is marked by Dayana’s Evil Eye. Their AC is has been reduced by 2 for 4 rounds.

Kra'el puts his sword swiftly into the ogre's back, just in case and then turns his attention to the downed goblin. The big dragonborn reaches down and lifts the goblin bodily with one hand around its neck. His voice rumbles out at Dinvarte, goblin in one hand, bloody, dripping longsword in the other.

"Is it still alive?"

Kra'el peers at the limp form uncertainly. It's not a person. It's a thing... it's evil. But it could be useful if it is still alive.

Jathal grimaces when Dinvirte replies to her question, looking around she jogs towards the guards. "Quick, get sand or water before we have a major blaze!" She orders them.

Din afforded himself no time to revel in the victory. The possibility of being the Tiefling that blew the city to Hell did not sit well with him.

”Kra'el! Drop the goblin. Grab one of the wagon tongues and lift it!” Din pointed at Ingra, ”You too! Maybe we can roll the barrels out and away from the wagon?”

A flimsy plan at best… he thought.

Lowering the shield just enough to see over the rim after the latest explosion sent a shard of either badly burnt bone or wood pinging off his shield (he hadn't noticed definitively which) he saw them scrambling about the burning wagon and began waving his shield arm as widely as he could, "Move yer backsides! Get clear before the powder catches and get the Goblin over here before he goes up with you!"

Turning to Cecilia he groans in his throat, "Bloody Bards..." He bangs his shield on the wall several times to get her attention and waves towards himself and Dayana, "Come get to cover, lass!" He sets the shield to give her and Dayana room to retreat as he silently hopes for something small like before and not something that sends him out the city gate.

Free Action: Talk like an idiot (because it's Javos). Standard: Set shield for 24 AC. Move: Nope.

As the fight draws to a close, Dayana brings a hand up to rest against her chest — panting softly as her heart thunders in her chest. She peers over Javos' shoulder to eye Cecilia, wondering, Is she alright? but wasting no time in scampering back at the yelling and the sight of flames creeping towards the remaining barrels of pitch.

"Get back! Get back!"

Even through the haze of unaccustomed anger, Aelion could tell when it was time to leave. Those barrels could blow us right off the building! "Go!" he shouted at Zalindra, trying to herd her back the way they had come.

He'll double move if Zalindra does, but he's not leaving her behind.

ETA: How high up are we, DM? Is it possible to hang from the balcony we're on to get under 10' up, then drop down?

Throwing up her arms as another explosion rip through the air, Cecilia was just barely able to avoid the worst of the fire. She still received some very painful burns, but that was preferable to being completely incinerated.

As the smoke cleared, the bard saw that all her enemies were either dead or incapacitated. "Another victory for Cecilia of the Crimson Lash and her heroic companions!" She shouted, raising her rapier in triumph. But all that bravado disappeared as Cecilia saw the burning casks and heard the warnings of her allies. Dying in an incredible blaze of glory was a common fate for the characters in her songs and stories, but personally the bard would prefer to be a living legend than a dead one.

With a twist of her red cape, Cecilia ran for her life. But even as she fled, she did not abandon her father's weapon. Ignoring Javos' cries to get behind his shield, the bard instead dashed back down the road, snatching up the whip as she moved.

Free Action: Cease Bardic Performance , Move Action: Move 30 Feet , Standard Action: Retrieve whip from the ground

With main battle now over, Ingra pauses a brief moment to access the next immediate threat: the burning barrels of pitch.

Ingra took Javos' advice and legged it around the corner, much to her annoyance.

The blacksmith in her wanted to protect the smithy, once it was covered in burning pitch, there would be nothing she could do.

But there would be even less she could do if she was dead.

Retreat and rebuild. It's better than dying for nothing.

Movement: Run behind building corner.

Zalindra turns around to get down from the balcony, intending to help put out the fires in the town, but keeps her eyes and ears open in case there are more bad guys out there.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Ha ha. Not that open though. :)

COMBAT ROUND 6
Battle Map

The goblin skirmisher hangs limp in Kra'el's hands, but it is obviously still breathing. Meanwhile Jathal finds the guards eager to help, and they quickly round up the fire-fighting bar patrons to help gather more water as Javos leads the rest of the group in a retreat to a safe distance.

Thankfully Dinvirte's idea to roll the pitch casks away doesn't prove necessary, as when the smouldering casks explode most of the pitch is contained within the confines of the flaming wagon, or lands harmlessly on the cobbled streets.

Combat Over

Aelion descends from the balcony running around the tavern, quickly doing a visual check to see that everyone was more or less all right.

Walking over to Jathal, he said bitterly, "Did you see those arrows? They look just like the ones that took Bryn and I down over the mountains. If these monsters really do represent a new Red Hand..." The implications were clear. There must be a whole horde of them, fast-moving or more enormous than imaginable, and the Tiri Kitor were in danger.

"How in the nine Hells did they get this close to the city without raising an alarm?"

Aelion glared at the unconscious goblin. "Let's tie it up. We'll get some answers."

Jathal nods at Aelion's words, keeping an eye on the flickering fires to make sure they do not spread and catch a building alight.

"Goblin roasting on an open fire. It's just like old times." She says with a slight smile.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Jathal's bow is still in hand, and she is looking around in case more aid is called for?

Stowing his sword and shield safely on his back, Javos rolls his wounded arm and groans a little in protest as the wound stings. Slipping his thumb behind the buckle of his pants he lets the arm rest comfortably as he looks over the sleeping goblin as the others talk, "We'll get our answers when it wakes up. For now let's go check on the inn. No sense in lingering in the streets just in case."

Turning on his heel he called over his shoulder, "Ingra has eared herself a stiff drink anyway! Best not to keep a dwarf from the mead, after all!"

The changeling wrings her hands together as she creeps back onto the street, surverying the flames and the carnage. "Sure the ogre is dead yet?" she asks cautiously, craning her neck as if such an action would get her a better view of the creature without getting closer. She frowns.

As Dayana edges closer to the bodies, shoes scuffing against the road as she all but drags her feet, she hums a thoughtful note, and says, "If they are this close, someone on the inside has helped them, clearly... I know not who, but I do not believe they could have achieved such a large, swift, silent entry without such aid. So, the question, is who? Who benefits from this? Who is willing to see such carnage and destruction to achieve that benefit?"

If no one else has examined the ogre before she arrives, Dayana will take quick check of its vitals; assuming its dead, she'll carry on towards riffling the body for anything of note.

Kra'el nods at the elf's suggestion and unceremoniously stuffs the unconscious goblin under his arm while he digs in his pack for a rope. Unsure how to effectively tie up such a small thing, the dragonborn just wraps it like a cocoon. Feet - Rope cocoon - neck - head. There is a bit of rope hanging after all is said and done that could be used as a handle.

The dragonborn slings the goblin casually over his shoulder to hang down his back and joins the others.

"We should go to the gate where they entered the city. The people can manage the inn."

It's a DC 24 for the goblin to escape the rope.

"I did promise I'd go with Zalindra to check on her grandfather. Is that on the way to the gate, Zalindra?" Aelion queried. He joined Dayana in searching the bodies of the goblinkin for anything of interest (or any arrows still usable) as he spoke.

With the immediate danger now passed, Cecilia took several steps back from the burning wagon. She didn't want to be anywhere near that mess of burning tar.

Looking at the burns on her arms, there was a sharp intake of breath from the minstrel. Now that she no longer had adrenaline coursing through her veins, the pain was extremely intense. Her hands quivering, Cecilia forced herself to focus, to use the magic that was a part of every bard's soul.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Feeling some relief as her wounds healed, Cecilia turned her attention to her garments. With use of the Mending spell, she repaired the damage to her long red jacket and frilly white shirt, fixing the holes caused by the ogre's fiery casks. She then used her Prestidigitation spell to reapply a pleasant coolness to her clothing. Her arms still carried an unpleasant itch, a reaction to the blood and sweat that had clung to her skin too long, but she would still be able to fight, and her clothing should hide any symptoms from the others.

After all this fighting, Cecilia just wanted to sit down. But when she heard that Sertanian might be in danger, she forced herself to stand straight. "Yes, the Hall of Great Valor would be a likely target for the goblins." The bard said, referring to the museum to which Zalindra's grandfather was the caretaker. "We should move in that direction if we can."

Standard Action: Cast Cure Light Wounds , Standard Action: Cast Mending

Kra'el probably just starts moving toward the gate, but we have a big crowd in here so I'll wait to post again. Feel free to move me with anyone who goes that way if you do an update, GM.

Jathal looks up from gathering anything usable from the Hobgoblins, looking between Aelion and Zalindra and then giving him a smirk.

When the party moves out towards the gates she keeps close to the front, keeping an eye out for trouble or ambush.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Getting any weapons and arrow that survived off the Hobgoblins.

Zalindra keeps helping with any fires in the immediate vicinity, and then goes to make sure her grandfather is okay.

Back from vacation, so will be checking in more often now, promise.

"Perhaps the Smithy is a better place to reconvene than tha' place currently on fire?"

Ingra offered as a bit of helpful advice to the pitch covered man. She then raises an eyebrow at Cecilia, trying not to get angry.

"Yah telling me this whole time yer've had a healing spell and ya didn't use it on Javos!? The man's almost dead! He's been almost dead since that first cast hit the both of us! Maybe ya didn't notice through all yer fancy flips and singing?"

She puts her greatsword on her shoulder to head back to the rest of the group.

"When yer done prettying yer self up, maybe spare a bit of healing for one of the others? If you have any left."

She sighs, and her anger simmers a bit.

"I appreciate the support, but I'm not gonna forget this easily."

Ingra didn't know how to take it. She just watched this woman try and trip an ogre with a whip, then stab it with a needle. Then when all was over, heal herself and mend her clothing.

Being covered in pitch was painful, Ingra knew, but she wouldn't have even been there had she stopped to heal Javos.

It did her head in.

Din watched Kra'el swaddle the goblin in rope. The image brought back the irritation on his wrists and the dank taste of the stygian cell he had once been kept in.

He shook his head, sending the memory back to its own cell and look at his tail which had been pointing at his face, ”Yeah, I know. I try to tell everyone about the conspiracies and they all call me a lunatic. Now all of sudden it's,” he affected a snobbish tone,”‘these monsters must have someone in Brindol helping them!’” He sighed and took a few steps away from the wagon.

The tiefling had just been about to cast prestidigitation to clean his clothing of the soot, blood, and dirt when Ingra began reprimanding Cecilia. He paused mid-gesture, the incantation on his lips, and waited for the dwarf to finish ranting before stepping over to Cecilia.

”Lady Hawthorne, don't mind her. Dwarves are known to be cranky. The part of their brains that controls temper is mostly stone."A joke of course. He had checked years ago on a cadaver. "Sorry about the pitch. Heat of the–engrossed in the battle.”

Javos and Jathal step back into the Antler and Thistle. Soot mixes with blood and water on the tavern floor. The fires have all been extinguished now and some of the townsfolk have gathered blankets to cover the bodies of the dead.

As Javos steps over the carnage in the doorway, Jathal stoops to check over the goblinoid corpses. She finds that all four of the hobgoblins were equipped with unusually well crafted longswords, compared to the weapons of those she’d fought in the past. She also notes the expertly made studded leather armour of the two goblins who had been throwing the fire as potentially valuable.

”Strip whatever gear you want from those monsters,” the deep voice of the barkeep rumbles through the silence of the tavern.
”I’ll set it aside for you before we burn the bodies.”

Moving out from behind the bar, the man extends a hand to Javos. He is tall, and portly, with dark skin contrasting a neatly trimmed white beard.

”Richye Erys, and the owner of this establishment, in no small way thanks to the effort of you and your friends. If it wasn’t for your bravery this evening, good sir, I’d be styling myself the owner of nout more than a pile of ash. You have my eternal gratitude, and if you and yours are ever in need of a hot meal and a warm bed, my doors will be forever open to you.”

Meanwhile, outside the tavern, Kra’el works to secure the goblin survivor while Zalindra and the wounded watchmen fight the last of the fires.

Once they are all done the tavern defenders regroup and head north toward Brindol’s East Gate.

”Praise Kord, reinforcements!” shouts a guard from the gatehouse window as the group makes their way through the field of goblin corpses outside the walls.
The gates, bristling with more of the cruel, black arrows, soon swing open to reveal the streets of Brindol proper.

Numerous fires burn within the walls of the town and a row of bodies line the street just inside the gate, those guards who fell defending the gatehouse from attack.

A guard within the walls quickly rushes over to meet with the new arrivals. ”Thank the gods you’re here. The tide is beginning to turn but we could really use your help defending the bridges. If we can push the main force back north of the river, the rest of the cowards should fall back too.”

Does the goblin wake up at some point?

As they walk, the big dragonborn takes a moment to tie the wrapped-up goblin to his belt and grabs a vial from his pouch as he drifts over near Javos. His voice is a low rumble.

"You were brave to stand at my side. Here." With that, Kra'el hands him the vial and says nothing more. The goblin dangles awkwardly between them.

It's a potion of cure light wounds. Use it or save it, I don't mind either way.

----

After we reach the gate:

With word that there are still goblins on the offensive, Kra'el doesn't hesitate. His voice is pure thunder.

We go! Someone scout ahead!

The dragonborn takes off at a lumbering jog, the goblin on his belt bouncing to and fro.

Kra'el moves at dwarf speed, so half the party is significantly faster. I don't recommend starting combat without your front line though. :)

Once she's stripped the good gear and stored it with the barkeep Jathal joins the others. "Good equipment. Too good in fact. It bares a makers mark as well. A black arrow wreathed in shadow. Anyone know anything of that?"

'Noisy.' She sighs internally when Kra'el bellows 'I wonder who will die first? The one who thinks she's the heroine of the story, or the loud one who thinks he's armored in his gods favor.', But she does slip ahead scouting, keeping to the shadows and looking for trouble.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

Hearing Ingra dress down the bard he couldn't help but mash his lips together to suppress a smile. As far as he was concerned he was alive and that was all that mattered at the moment. When he followed Jathal towards the inn he couldn't help but mutter, "Bloody Bards..."

Stepping into the tavern he shakes his head at the damage. Blood and bits of either people or goblins littering the charred parts of the entrance. Some fair bits of table turned black as coal with the tin mugs wilted at the edges from the heat. He hadn't had time to really consider the damages when it all started, he was running on impulse and drilled instruction for his part. Now he saw they'd lost a few more patrons than he'd thought. But at the time he'd been fighting for his life and hadn't really had the presence of mind to notice.

Jathal inspected one of the blades on the ground and Javos stooped for the other, scooping up a longsword and sliding some of the steel free of it's scabbard. Not as thick or blocky as the dwarven make sword he carried, but elegant and of a far finer make than his own blade. Even if it pained him to admit it.

”Strip whatever gear you want from those monsters,” the deep voice of the barkeep rumbles through the silence of the tavern.
”I’ll set it aside for you before we burn the bodies.”

Moving out from behind the bar, the man extends a hand to Javos. He is tall, and portly, with dark skin contrasting a neatly trimmed white beard.

”Richye Erys, and the owner of this establishment, in no small way thanks to the effort of you and your friends. If it wasn’t for your bravery this evening, good sir, I’d be styling myself the owner of nout more than a pile of ash. You have my eternal gratitude, and if you and yours are ever in need of a hot meal and a warm bed, my doors will be forever open to you.”

Sheathing the blade and tucking the scabbard into his belt he clasped the man's hand with a smile and a nod, "Javos Kincade of Hammer Hold. Lover of good mead and, as my lovely friend here pointed out, protector of pretty women." Turning to the rest of the inn he shook his head and took on a more somber tone, "Only wish we'd been faster. Damn shame about this, even if it could have been much worse."

Swiping a masterwork longsword.

Finding nothing of note on the ogre, Dayana straightens up and once again brushes her hair back behind her ears. Bloody annoying... where the hell did I put those hair ties? She shoves a hand into her satchel, but comes up empty handed; as she searches, Beledia bumps his scaly head against the back of her hand.

If any of the Hobgoblins' bows are still intact after being so close to the flames, Dayana will help herself to one as well as some arrows to use with it.

<Angry dwarf is angry>

The changeling chuckles breathily at the dwarf's outburst, perhaps in poor humor, before conceding and adding, "She does have a point, you know... Javos is looking very rough. A little... comaraderie would be appreciated after all of this fighting, no? Vanity does not help much when your friends are all dead and so are you."

-------

A guard within the walls quickly rushes over to meet with the new arrivals. ”Thank the gods you’re here. The tide is beginning to turn but we could really use your help defending the bridges. If we can push the main force back north of the river, the rest of the cowards should fall back too.”

"Our work, it seems, is not over. We've no time to waste then." She frowns again and sets off after Kra'el.

Ingra looks over the blade, closely examining the symbol and racking her brain to see if she recognised it, or had even heard of it.

She also examines the armor to see if she can glean anything about who made it, where it's from, or where the materials came from.

Ingra looks to where she hears the Dragonborn shouting, to the young woman who's grandfather lives in the area.

"I'll go where yer want me lass. There are many to guard the city, but family is what we fight for. Ya need to go fetch yer pop, I've got yer back."

Ingra was beginning to feel the affects of fight after fight. The dried pitch made moving uncomfortable and she could feel the burns that lay under the tar.

If she made it to morning, she would always have a healing spell prepared from then on. Part of her worried about the majority of her belongings that were still in her room at the tavern. Hopefully the fire hadn't gotten that far.

She mourned the loss of life, and of history. Much of the memorabilia on the walls was damaged or destroyed. Both were irreplaceable.

Craft (armor): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

To see if it's religious or cult based
Religion: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

It's fitting that the weapon of my enemy be used to bring them low.

Aelion picked up another of the fine longswords, and checked if the hobgoblin was using a longbow as well, before scooping up what arrows he needed.

Ingra's recriminations and Kra'el's orders flowed over him like water over a stone; nothing but background noise as he fought to steady his mind under the anger that he felt.

Still seething, he broke into a trot toward the east gate, seeking to use the physical exertion to bring his mind back into balance.

***

When he heard that the river was where the force was fighting, Aelion needed no further prompting. He ran, wishing for wings that would have brought him there all the sooner.

Ooooh! I thought we were inside the town, too. Aelion will do some scouting, if we've established that Zalindra's grandpa is all right.