Fíriel sneaks around as well, and shakes her head at Randall.
Randall doesn't notice any traps.
Once again, Jametor's spell-casting is accompanied by a cloud of purple haze that seems to appear out of nowhere, then rises into the air and evaporates after a short time.
Jametor shakes his head as the mind attack hits him again.
He whispers, "Just to let you know, that attack on my mind happened again, just in case I start acting oddly."
Not seeing many other options, Njord tries the front door.
Randall proceeds up to the door since it appears safe and will listen at the door and try to see through any windows present.
Njord finds the door locked. A slit covered from the inside by a sliding metal plate is set at eye level, and a spot in the middle of the door is worn smooth from knocking.
Randall hears a slight scuffing noise from within.
Whispering to Firiel, "I heard something - maybe dragging, I'm not sure - I'll wait here, please see if the others have had any luck and let them know I heard inside."
Fíriel sneaks quietly around the building to inform the others and see what they've found out.
Njord nods at the information.
"This door is locked. I don't suppose any of you are skilled at correcting that sorta thing..."
"You want me to break in?!"
Njord ponders the question.
”The dwarf could be in there and need our help.”
"I can try. Should I run get Randall first?"
Njord nods.
"Go get him."
Fíriel heads to the back and relays her conversation. "Njord wants me to open the front door, but I figured we shouldn't leave you back here while we do."
Jametor sends Swiftwing to watch the back door.
Fíriel produces some tools from somewhere and sets to work on the lock.
She quietly shakes her head. "I can't quite get it. I can try again if you like..."
"Give it a shot. Take your time."
"Okay."
Fíriel concentrates and tries to unlock the door again. Finally she smiles triumphantly. "Got it!"
The door opens into a small reception area. Another door lies in the wall across from the one that's just been opened.
Njord pokes his head inside the room and looks around.
"Good job!"
Randall slips past Njord in the doorway and goes to listen at the other door.
Njord sees a simple reception area. Randall doesn't hear anything.
Njord follows on the halfling's heels and tries the next door.
When Njord opens the door, he sees two men and a baboon standing in the room, looking unsurprised. The older of the two men yells at him. "Get out of my bleeding hou— HEY! You're one of them flea-bitten sons of rats that rotten scumbag Saul hired! Well I intend for him to pay every single copper of his stinkin' loan... you come here to kill me so he won't have to? It won't work! Get out I say!"
With that, he lets a bolt fly at the Ulfen with his crossbow. The baboon charges.
"Now git out!!"
The men look like they're waiting for a response.
Antal reaches out and takes a hold of the green cloth and gives it a hard tug to get it loose.
---
Antal maneuvers his way, once folks are through the doorway, close enough to begin casting against his enemies, drawing on the deepest and darkest fears of his connection to the void, to spread it to the nearest of the men (once one is in range).
Jametor reaches in his component pouch and pulls out some blue sand and then speaking a command word flings the sand in the direction of the baboon.
The green cloth turns out to be a bloodstained sable-fur-lined cloak... a cloak the group all recognizes as belonging to Larur.
Jametor moves closer and casts a Grease spell with the younger man in the bottom left of the spell.
As Antal and Jametor finish casting their spells, the same purple mist from earlier springs into existence from all around and settles over everything. The victim of the grease spell goes down, looking extremely scared. He scrambles to his feet and tries to get away from the mean little person, but only barely manages to remain standing.
The older man seems truly outraged at this invasion of his home. He reloads his crossbow and fires again, this time at the casting halfling.
"Get OUT I said!! Get 'em, boys!" he yells. "Get those spellcasters!"
The fearsome baboon continues to gnaw on its victim, and another man appears from around the corner, waving a club and yelling. "He sed git! If y'know what's good fer ya you'll git! An' that means you, Shorty!"
Njord grunts in pain as the vicious monkey gnaws on him.
Heavily wounded before he can even defend himself, the big ulfen glances behind.
"Make some room!"
Fíriel pulls her bow from her back and fires at the big nasty monkey.
Jametor begins casting Summon Monster 1.
Frowning, Randall backs away and out the door past Firiel. "Njord needs room," he explains, "And I need a surprise."
He hustles around the corner toward the door watched by the wizard's familiar.
Njord steps back and swiftly pulls a stoppered vial filled with a vicious yellow liquid. With his teeth he undoes the cork and pours the strange fluid along his arm. A moment later, the air shimmers as a protective field forms around it.
Antal, seeing that his last spell was quite effective, gives the big scary man a taste of his own medicine, then moves out the door to give Njord room to back up. The purple haze intensifies all around as Antal casts his spell.
The man screams like a girl and flees upstairs. The one standing in the grease tries to run out the back door, but instead falls on his rear end in the oily substance. He climbs to his feet again, looking hopeless.
The massive simian steps forward and chomps at the elven wizard angrily, but his jaw closes on air.
Lymas swears in frustration and reloads his crossbow, aiming this time at the halfling who dared shoot his pet.
He's too distracted to aim well, and his shot goes wide.
Njord steps south in holds his blade at the ready.
"Any minute elf", he grunts.
Randall continues his hustle to the back door.
Jametor finishes his summons and places the summoned dog right behind the baboon, allowing a flank against it with Njord.
The dog attacks the baboon.
Njord slashes at angry simian that mauled him so.