Hebites goes down, split cleanly in two and with a crossbow bolt sticking out of him.
Jametor yells at Antal and then motions he's going to check out the kitchen. And he sends Swiftwing to check around the corner.
Jametor opens the door slowly and looks in.
Fíriel calls out, "Njord, get out of the way! I can't get a clear shot!"
Another black-garbed man vaults in through the window and motions furtively to his companion, who immediately dodges behind Njord distractingly. The two masked faces betray no emotion as two daggers lash out silently.
Fíriel rushes forward to stab one of the men in the back.
Njord growls as the third figure appears and then pain as their blades carve up his naked hide.
Suddenly finding himself trapped, Njord steps into the open doorway, fishes a soothing balm from his pack, and applies it to one of his wounds.
Antal smiles, taking a step forward. "I'm sorry, sir, but authorized employees are the only one allowed weapons in this establishment."
With that, he superheats the weapon.
The one targeted by Antal's spell goes down with a scream.
Jametor continues exploring the kitchen, opening the door for Swiftwing to follow.
Both of them hear movement upstairs, and as they first enter the kitchen, Swiftwing catches a glimpse of movement through the north window.
The remaining black-silked figure glances around at all his attackers, and opts to duck inside the room behind him to hide.
Jametor puts his longbow away and pulls out his rapier. He and Swiftwing head up the stairs to see who is making the noises.
Njord manages to grab the man, but not before the other can toss the dagger he's holding.
Draw the dagger and follow Njord into the room, looking for a place to put said dagger pointy-end first.
Fíriel rushes into the room and stabs at the man.
Swiftwing heads up the stairs, and suddenly Jametor feels her radiating danger and worry.
Antal hurries down the hallway and waits for something to happen.
The man held by Njord cries out and draws a rapier to stab angrily at his restrainer.
Njord grunts in surprise as a hurled dagger buries itself in his shoulder and then gasp as a rapier point finds its way between his ribs.
Weak from blood loss at this point but not ready to die, the big ulfen roars as he squeezes his victim in a crushing bearhug.
Jametor moves up the stairs following Swiftwing, trying to get her to come to him and away from the danger.
Antal tries to position himself to at least see said enemy. Yet again, he decides to disarm his enemy. "Hot potato, comin' through!" the halfling yells out.
Njord drops his broken victim and fishes another vial from his pack.
"How many more?" he grunts.
Antal clears his throat, raising an eyebrow and shrugging, before he goes searching for more of them.
"I don't know, but I heard something in the kitchen, too. Get some clothes on - and armor - we will investigate. Wait, where the wizard?"
Rather than attack, then, Randall will double move toward the kitchen.
Can I cast flare at Edger from my position? If so, please consider it cast. DC 14 Fort (which is odd, seems it would be Reflex) roll low, please. I knew I should drop Prestidigitation for Message.
Also, I need a full round action to pull a scroll and cast the spell on it, correct? I am hoping my flare works and then I can cast Grease from a scroll, or I am going to have to run like a little girl elf.
Fíriel hurries to follow Randall and Antal.
"Hey, he's castin' spells, boss!" yells Edger, trying to focus on the elf through the bright light.
But next round I could cast it?
You didn't roll low.
Darting forward with a speed surprising for his bulk, he maneuvers into position in front of Jametor and drives one big meaty fist toward the wizard's stomach.
The other half-orc draws a bow and fires at the raven, while the human waits to see which of his fellows might need his help.
The human pulls a club and moves forward, hurling it over the railing at the wizard below.
Njord shakes his head at Randall’s suggestions. He looks down at his own nakedness, seemingly for the first time. It doesn’t take a keen eye to notice that the dark hair on the big man’s powerful hirsute torso has become thicker and denser as the fighting’s gone on. Njord looks Samaritha’s direction and grunts.
”No time. This isn’t a warning – this is a siege.”
The big ulfen downs the contents of his vial and one of the deeper wounds on his torso stops bleeding and mends. Njord quickly discards the empty container. He reaches into his pack again and hesitates for a moment before pulling out a handful of dried herbs.
”Gotta do something…”
"Indeed. If we survive this, then we should be able to do alright and get a chance to armor up. But right now, there's no time to take our time."
Antal keeps his crossbow ready as he looks around. "Let's get moving!" And with that, the small man heads off.
Randall continues toward the kitchen with Firiel and Antal.
A huge half-orc comes charging into the kitchen from the staff lounge area. "Think you can run, Sharp-ears? Keep running! You'll die running, coward."
Again he punches at Jametor's gut, and again his vicious punch fails to connect.
A big burly human and another muscular half-orc come running out as well, the human drawing a sword and the half-orc taking aim with his bow.
Antal grins and laughs loudly, almost a cackle at the man who is in front of him.
"Coward? Oh I don't think the Sharp-ear is the coward here!"
Jametor and Swiftwing take a 5 foot step each and Jametor pulls out a potion and drinks it.
Njord crushes the herbs in his hand and breathes deeply from the mixture. A change suddenly comes over him as the ulfen's already brawny frame swells with layers of additional muscle. Dense fur sprouts from his naked bloody flesh and his face melts and contort into a lupine snout.
Were-Njord looses a howl and takes off down the hallway.