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Phaendar’s Market Festival draws a crowd from all over Nirmathas. Of course merchants, peddlers, and their customers come, but many come for other reasons as well. People come to socialize with friends or family they rarely see. Others come for the party atmosphere. They eat and drink well, listen to music and dance, and otherwise carouse. It is a release after the long winter.
Some come solely to hear Aubrin the Green—the retired Chernasardo Ranger-turned-Caydenite cleric—recount bawdy tales of adventure from her youth. Aubrin is in full swing at the Taproot Inn now, the dark-skinned woman's face mirthful as she spins out the end of a story. One would hardly guess her eyesight is so damaged she can barely see the inn's opposite wall. The metal sleeve she wears over her left leg to compensate for her missing foot seems not to inhibit her movement at all.
Outside, the celebration continues, as raucous shouts carry on the early evening's air. Warmed by the firelight after a long day, any levity comes as a welcome reward to the rough, earthy souls of this riverside trade town.
“So there I am, thinking, when will I ever be able to talk to a bear again? So before the grizzly can stand back up, I turn to it and say, ‘All I need is the honey. You can keep the bees!’”
The room erupts into laughter as Aubrin finishes her winding story and takes another draught from her tankard. “But it’s fine now. All’s good. She named a cub after me. Someday I’m going to have to check in on little Ow Oh Gods That’s Too Many Bees."
Her tale done, Aubrin takes a chair, leaving the floor open to others who have a story or joke to tell.
After a long day selling her remedies and herbal mixtures Callistra is glad to be relaxing at last, even if the Taproot is far more crowded than she prefers.
She savors her mulled wine, once again trying to work out the recipe the Inn uses to give it that subtle, smooth spiced kick. Constant attempts by her have always failed to get the maker to divulge the secret.
She nudges Faunra beside her. "I did alright for sales today. How about you an your Ma?" Her normally more precise diction is slurred a little by her drinking and tiredness.
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Azure has heard Aubrin's story before. It doesn't matter. He laughs along with everyone else, partly because the story is really funny but mostly because it's Aubrin.
Azure tips back his mug of mulled wine and looks around the Taproot for a moment. A smile creeps to his lips, and he feels a warmth, a fondness for these people that is almost painful. Human revelry is always a delight. Men throw their arms around one another relaxed gestures of camaraderie. Suitors and paramours make emboldened steps toward one another. Oh, and Azure loved the singing and dancing, even if that only seemed to come when men were deep in their cups. When humans caroused in Nirmathas, it was absent the rising scent of blood in the air, the ineluctable aura of malice and rancor seeking carnal closure that Azure remembered from his childhood with the Flaming Spear orcs.
Azure takes another pull from his mug, draining it of warm wine completely. Azure prays, even as he watches Aubrin carry on, Deadeye, in a life of uncertainty, give me a piece of this moment when life seems toughest, when I have no Taproot to fill my senses. Thank you, hunter among hunters, for these people and their joy.
Azure then stands and heads over to the bartop. He rolls his shoulders back, and his body prickles with the pain of all the briar thorns he waded through while he was chasing down that deer this morning. He got it. Manged to bring it back by himself, carrying it on his shoulders. The meat sold quickly. These cuts would probably not even at to his litany of scars.
Azure meets the barkeep's eye and nods, "Another," he says as he smiles with his mouth closed, for fear of looking too ferocious. Seeing Callistra and Faunra, he nods. A whirlwind of possible things to say collide in his mouth: he could ask Callistra for ointment for the cuts that adorned his back; he could tell Faunra about that funny conversation he had with the fox who saw him carrying the deer because Faunra loved foxes didn't she; maybe he should brag like the handsome men did; it's too late anyway because Callistra just spoke, and she'll think he's rude if he pipes up but maybe he could chime in about Faunra's mom, whom he genuinely likes. But none of these things cross the gap between Azure's mind and his tusk-interrupted lips. Instead, Azure furtively looks around for Skalla because he is so much more at ease with her, then he looks to his still open seat closer to Aubrin where he was so much more comfortable listening than talking, and the result is that he seems disinterested in his own words, and his momentary confusion looks something like an unearned snarl when he says in a low, uncertain voice to Callistra and Faunra, "Evening, women."
The Taproot is busier than Caeleron would like, but new faces bring new opportunities to find his family. He approaches the bar and the human bartender, known as Jet, looks up at him as he approaches.
"One herbal firewater please," he asks, and is presented with a small glass of clear liquid - the nearest human approximation to ripea, the elven spirit he used to help distill in Nithvel from roots and berries. He slides a silver piece across the bar and sips from his glass.
He approaches a table of visiting merchants, pulling out the locket he wears around his neck. "I am looking for my family," he says, opening the locket to reveal the illustrations of his wife and daughter within. The likenesses are of incredible quality, drawn by Alea herself as a gift to Caeleron on their last wedding anniversary. He shows the merchants the pictures, explaining "My village was attacked some days ago, and they may have fled this way. Have you seen them?" A note of plaintive desperation creeps into his voice.
All the merchants shake their heads, and none of them seem too keen to help Caeleron further. An outsider in this settlement, Caeleron knows that his mannerisms, speech, and appearance are foreign and unusual. He moves away from the table, downs the rest of his drink, and returns to the bar for another.
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Faunra nods in acknowledgment, amused but her sister's slight inebriation.
"They went well. We closed earlier to spend time with Father going through the stalls. You really should join us one of these years, there's always something weird or fun to find. Father knows a lot of history about the little knick knacks. You might find it interesting."
Faunra leans down under the table a little to stroke Meadow, who is sitting comfortably under her seat.
"I'm glad to hear you did well. Mother might find herself able to retire faster than she thought at the rate you are growing. She's very proud of you."
Faunra looked fondly at her sister or, more formally, foster sister. She didn't care to make the differentiation. She had known Callistra for much of her life, as far as she and anyone else was concerned, they were family, no matter how many times Callistra corrected her.
"Evening, women." came an all too familiar voice.
Faunra stifled a giggle at Azure's mannerisms. She had gotten to the point where she could normally tell when he was feeling out of his element, so his apparent snarl at them was over-looked.
"Well met Azure. I heard that your hunt went well, if the many happy and drooling faces were anything to go by. I believe you and Callistra have met before? I've surely spoken to you about her."
She motions to her sister, before turning back to the grizzled half-orc with a glint of excitement in her eye.
"Did you meet anyone while you were out hunting? Any more stories about the forest creatures? Or maybe an old one? I'll never get tired of hearing what you talk about."
She wasn't sure if Azure would mind her sister knowing, so she had told no one of his ability to talk to animals. She, herself, was getting closer to casting the spell for it, but even then, her friend's stories about who and what he encountered in his hunts would always draw the child out in her. They were fascinating, and so was he.
Once she had leant closer, however, she noticed some of the thorns that had gotten stuck in his clothes and she donned her airy, gentle smile as she leans over to pick some out, the same one she used on animals. Though more recently, it was for everything.
"Bringing the forest home with you, I see. You should be more careful. Tiny cuts, untreated, can become a big issue."
Before she got an answer, another familiar voice stood out from the crowd, this one bringing her mood down a little.
"Have you seen them?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Elf who had emerged from the forest only a few days earlier.
Her Father had already made contact, but there was so much going on that little could be done until the Market was over.
"You didn't happen to see anything unusual while you were out, did you?" she nodded over to the Elf, now ordering another drink from the bar, while still gently picking out burrs and plant matter from "Azure's hide armor absent-mindedly.
"He is looking for his family, or any survivors from the village."
"Well met Azure," Faunra says, which deflates some of his tension. He tacitly scolds himself for expecting otherwise. They've known each other a long time. "I heard that your hunt went well, if the many happy and drooling faces were anything to go by. I believe you and Callistra have met before? I've surely spoken to you about her."
Faunra gestures to her human companion, and Azure nods. While he has never been close to Callistra, he has long admired her craft, and more than once turned to her to sort out his injuries.
"Did you meet anyone while you were out hunting?," Faunra asks. "Any more stories about the forest creatures? Or maybe an old one? I'll never get tired of hearing what you talk about."
Azure never agreed, but the fox said, "How do you catch a unique bird?" Then, without waiting for Azure, it said, "UNIQUE UP ON IT!"
Azure had cracked a smile, which the fox took as a cue to keep trying to climb up and snatch parts of Azure's deer, to no avail. Then the fox said something in its own language that sounded vulgar but which meant nothing to Azure before scampering off. The half-orc shrugged. The deer was getting heavier, so Azure summoned the bull from within himself, filling his body with power, expanding the muscles in his legs, back, and shoulders. The rest of the journey was easy.
Azure looks around the Taproom uncertainly. He wanted to tell Faunra. He looked at Aubrin carrying forth. It was so effortless for people like-- indeed, for people like Faunra. Azure didn't know the words. He would mangle the fox's joke. He was not funny.
He looks Faunra in the eyes and shakes his head with a shrug.
Then she leans closer, touching his chest. Such an easy gesture for her, and her smile nearly melted his reticence. He recognized the manner. It was the same manner he used on the doe before he put her misery. But Faunra's gentle manner worked and seemed to soften the sting of the thorns that he'd collected.
Then he hears the elf. He'd seen him before. It was hard not to notice a new elf in Phaendar. It was hard not to notice a new anyone.
"Have you seen them?" he asks the merchants. Azure's heart aches for the elf. For a moment, the thought of a lost family conjures the memory of his own mother, but Azure rejects her mental image like an unwelcome visitor in his home.
"You didn't happen to see anything unusual while you were out, did you?" Faunra asks Azure as she continues to fuss over him and clean the dirt he hadn't noticed was all over his armor. "He is looking for his family, or any survivors from the village."
Again, Azure shakes his head and says, "Not a soul out there, save those on the roads. Too little game, too." Where were the animals? Gone or hiding? The doe had broken her ankle, otherwise Azure doubted he would have found her in the thicket. It must be the market. Azure taps his nose, "If there had been an elf family, I'd have smelled them."
The second glass of spirit goes down more easily than the first, and Caeleron feels it's warmth spread through his throat and stomach. Across the room he sees the half-orc hunter, and walks over to him.
"You are Azure, the hunter." It's a statement, not a question. "I am Caeleron. My village was attacked and my family are missing." He opens his locket and shows the pictures to Azure and his companions. "They likely would have fled this way. I know that deep-wood elves like myself are unusual in this area, so my wife and daughter would have been noteworthy in this town. Have you seen them, or seen any tracks that might suggest their passage?" he asks, looking round at all three of them.
Faunra shakes her head sadly.
"Had anyone come out of those woods, someone would have known. I believe you spoke with my father earlier, Nameer? He will bring news of what happened to your village back to Kyonin after the festival. I'm not sure what they will do, but the more who are keeping an eye out for anyone that might have survived the attack on your village, the better the chances are to learn something.
I am sorry that nothing can be done sooner, but you'll find most everyone too wrapped up with the Markets to offer any immediate aid."
Azure is surprised to see Caeleron approaching even as he and Faunra spoke of him. Was he being too loud? He looks around the room. He towers over most of the people standing in the room. Like most elves, the wood elf stands taller than most of the people in attendance at the Taproot. None of the patrons seems to pay their quartet much mind, which is quite alright with Azure.
He meets Caeleron's stern expression and, at his question says, At Caeleron's question, Azure says, "I am uncertain what I have done that you know me when I know you not. No matter." He shakes his head, his meager smile gone. He says, "I heard about your search. I have not seen them, I regret to say. Would that I had. Nor have I found the scent of any unusual elves. Do you have anything of theirs besides that locket? If I smell anything that could lead me to them, I'd like to be able to report better news to you. What village do you come from?"
The last is a perfunctory question. Azure knows the forest well and can recite the rituals to keep fey at bay during the harvest, and he knows the names of thirty types of devils and thrice that of demons. But much of the civilized world outside Phaendar is a mystery to him. But it seems that to ask is the only polite and helpful thing to do, and certainly Erastil would ask him to be polite and helpful to someone in need.
"I did speak with him, and I thank you and him for whatever aid you might be able to lend," Calaeron replies to Faunra, grateful that the elven community is helping.
He turns to Azure. "I meant no offence, it was suggested by others I have encountered that you are one of the foremost hunters in these parts, and that you would be a valuable source of information about the area. I had hoped that you might have encountered them while ranging in the woods or seen their tracks nearby."
His expression becomes forlorn. "I have nothing else of theirs. We lived in Nithvel, some way north from here, before the hobgoblins came and burned it down. I had hoped that my wife and daughter fled while I and a few others tried to hold off the attack, but I have seen nothing of them, nor met anyone who has. I will stay here for a few more days, then I will search elsewhere."
Caeleron's expression turns from forlorn to hard, his blue eyes cold like midwinter frost. "If the invaders have killed them or taken them, then I will find my family, and I will take my vengeance." His face softens again, as much as that of an elf can. "I apologise for that outburst. I will control myself better in future."
When she enters the Taproot, the place is crowded and stuffy. Aubrin is telling one of her stories, probably one which Skalla has heard a dozen times, and anyway her head is full of other stories. She has spent the day going over the kids' homework - she gave them an assignment to write down one story they know about Erastil. Most of them wrote about the handful of legends that everyone knows, while a few surprised her with beautifully wrought stories that they must have heard from travellers. These, Skalla has added to her repertoire, with a note to check their sources at the first opportunity. And lastly... Mereth really needs to work on his spelling. Skalla sighs as she pulls her embroidered scarf tighter over her face. There are some new faces in town and she doesn't want to spook anyone.
As she weaves through the crowd in the direction of the bar, she spots most of her friends congregating, with that elven stranger in their midst, and changes her course towards them. "Fair evening, folks! What's new?" Noticing Azure's scratched self, she tsks at him, straightening out his shirt. "And where did you get these, this time?"
Azure looks at Skalla with a skewed half-smile, one tusk jutting slightly higher from his lower lip than the other, and says, "Old Deadeye ensured I had to earn my food is all."
Azure misses his mother terribly in that moment.
Seeing Faunra picking at the dirt and plant matter in his armor and Skalla straightening his clothes out, Azure mutters,
He nods to Caeleron as he bats Faunra's and Skalla's hands away. He says, "Fuss over the elf. I'll buy you another drink-- Caeleron? Did I hear others refer to you as Caeleron? To make the night go down easier."
Without waiting for an answer, Azure turns around and turns his attention to Jet, the bartender, and echoes Caeleron's order for an herbal firewater and orders a mulled wine for himself.
Caeleron nods politely at the newcomer before replying.
”Yes, I am Caeleron. Thank you, another drink would be appreciated,” he says. ”May I sit?” he asks the women, gesturing at an empty seat at their table.
While you all say your hellos and do some catching up, another man, a merchant in town for the festival, takes the floor and tells a couple of jokes. Eventually though Aubrin’s tankard is topped off courtesy of Jet and she is cajoled back into the center of the room.
“All right, all right! Don’t shove,” she slurs a bit. “Okay, Cayden strike me down if this isn’t true—“
The front door explodes into flinders. A cry of agony pierces the chaos. Aubrin lies on the floor, gasping and clutching at the blood gushing from a wound in her chest. A ballista bolt still quivers in the wall behind her. Two hobgoblins in military dress stand beyond the shattered door, blades drawn. Behind them, lit by the glow of burning homes, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of hobgoblin soldiers march the street. Phaendar burns, shouts of celebration now replaced by the panicked screams of the frightened and dying. Behind them, above the flames and humble rooftops, rises a tower of black stone.
The hobgoblins stride into the inn's common room with a swagger and air of authority. The first one in runs his eyes over the room's occupants as he casually slashes the throat of the jokester merchant.
"The rest of you line up! Do so quickly and quietly and we'll spare your lives. Anyone who resists will be gutted and die holding their own entrails!"
Faurna snaps out of her reverie when Azure bats her and Skalla away, but before she can stammer out anything, or anyone notices her cheeks go a stranger green than normal, everything explodes at once.
The door shatters, Aubrin is bleeding on the floor, and before anyone has time to react, one of the creatures responsible slits the merchants throat and he falls to ground next to Aubrin.
"The rest of you line up! Do so quickly and quietly and we'll spare your lives. Anyone who resists will be gutted and die holding their own entrails!"
Faunra just stares for a moment. She hadn't anything prepared for this. All her magic had been for the moonlit dinner she was going to have with Callistra and her parents once they came to get them from the Inn.
I... I have one. But if it doesn't work... I've only used it on animals! But Aubrin will die if she isn't helped! What is going on? I can't fight! This is unreal!
But before she consciously makes up her mind, her instincts act for her. She looks at Aubrin and feels the spell leave her and travel to the fallen cleric. She only hoped stabilizing her was the right choice.
The door explodes inwards, and two hobgoblins appear in the doorway. Their weapons are visible and they mean harm. Not again, not another village, Caeleron thinks, his anger rising. With many villagers injured he knows he has to step up and defend these people, the way he tried to defend his own village. "Run. Run now," he says calmly to the startled customers.
Caeleron moves quickly across the inn to get a clean shot at one of the attackers, drawing out his bow and an arrow from the quiver at his hip. He stands and looses the arrow, his form and technique as efficient and unhurried as if he were hunting a deer.
His arrow goes wide as he slips on the spreading pool of blood from an injured man lying beneath a nearby table and it thunks loudly into the door frame.
The hobgoblins don't seem to notice what Faunra does at all. She's too far away to assess Aubrin's condition, but she also has no reason to wonder whether Aubrin's condition is still worsening. That's what the orison prevents after all.
Caeleron dashes to his right toward Aubrin as the first hobgoblin moves farther into the room. The inn's occupants scatter in all directions trying to keep their distance from him. He seems to be placing himself as a block between everyone and the door. Nobody will be squeaking by him to freedom.
The second hobgoblin, doesn't fail to notice the elf's arrow when it flies past him. He grins and advances on Caeleron. The elf gets the impression his noncompliance hasn't disappointed the hobgoblin at all. They may be loking for captives, but killings are enjoyable as well. Variety is the spice of life.
The hobgoblin walks over the dead merchant, thrusting at Caeleron with his short sword once he's within reach. Caeleron shifts away, but the sword catches him on the thigh, leaving a long slice.
For the first half a dozen heartbeats, Skalla is frozen in incomprehension. Here she had been, about to enjoy the company of friends and perhaps tell some stories, and now it was all blood and ruin. For a brief moment she is a girl again, screaming in terror and pain as riders come out of the night trampling and killing. She sees the man who had raised her on stories and the fruits of the forest, blood darkening the front of his shirt, mouth moving soundlessly as his lifeblood is pouring out. The smell of smoke as their little cottage goes up in flames.
But she isn't a little girl anymore. She is a grown woman, and she has children of her own to protect now. Stepping forward through panicking townsmen, she pulls down the scarf over her face and stops next to the elf, hands on her hips, squaring up to the bandits.
"Run? I shall do nothing of the sort. I shall give these murderers and thugs such a thrashing that they will beg me to end their miserable lives! Such a mighty spanking to send their friends away quaking in terror, for that is what they deserve and nothing less!"
By the end of her little tirade, the colour is high in her cheeks and she is shouting, her words bouncing off the walls and rafters and sending a spark of righteous rage in the heart of all those who hear her.
Caeleron slips aside at the last second, the hobgoblin's blade whispering past his leg.
Azure's first instict is the same as Faunra's: protect Aubrin. In the fury of battle, though, Azure recalls the lessons of his foster father. Erastil has a place for everyone. And Azure is not a healer. He is a hunter. He is nature's fury. He is the alpha defending the pack. He is the bull defending the herd. He is the bull.
He is the bull.
While you likely don't notice it in the furor of the moment, with a sharp exhale, Azure's tattoos knit together, becoming less abstract in a single instant. As the muscles expand-- his thighs and neck and calves and arms bulging-- the abstract lines on his face have reshaped into the a lifelike semblance of a bull whose eyes are laid over Azure's own.
He is the bull.
Azure bellows, in a voice laced with more than a trace of angry bovine, "Protect the town!" as he advances on the hobgoblin directly in front of him, drawing his scimitar as he moves. Moving with a new sort of rage from Skalla's passionate shouts, his eyes bulging and wide like a charging bull, Azure slashes with his weapon in a single slash...
... that cuts deeply into the hobgoblin's shoulder, bisecting its clavicle with the scimitar's curved edge and scraping against a rib as he yanks the weapon free.
Callistra blinks in shock for a moment.
Realizing that Faunra has stopped Aubrin from dying for the moment only she slips passed Skalla and uses [i]Cure light wounds[/b] on the downed woman.
Aubrin's wounds stop bleeding and her pain eases as they knit some. She regains consciousness, but her wound is still severe and she remains on the ground.
Azure's rushing attack surprises the hobgoblin. The injury he receives is a serious one and he staggers, but remains on his feet and ready to fight.
Faunra decides that the best way to avoid anyone else getting hurt, she has to take a gamble.
It was a better option than just standing by and watching her friends risk getting hurt for longer than necessary.
She picks a place close to the door and focuses her magic, picking out rose petals from her component pouch.
She holds them in her palm and they dissolve into a pink must before swirling away and disappearing.
Backed into a corner by the advancing hobgoblin, Caeleron has no room to shoot. He draws the short blade for its scabbard, the slightly curved edge and sharp point glinting in the light.
He times his attack carefully, watching his opponent's much cruder blade to ensure that he strikes at exactly the right moment. Caeleron fights in silence, all his concentration directed toward the deadly dance he has become engaged in.
Caeleron's short blade finds it mark on the hobgoblin's upper arm, but the thug barely winces. Caeleron on the other hand once again shifts away from the hobgoblin's attempt to stab him.
Neither hobgoblin shows any reaction to Faunra's spell.
The hobgoblin facing Azure strikes back at him with his short sword but he has not recovered sufficiently from Azure's strike to find his mark.
Outside, a child's voice screams and is cut short. Inside, Skalla screams as well as she steps around Callistra to stand next to Azure, her hands clenching the shaft of her heavy flail. She is about two hands shorter than the other half-orc and much slighter in build, but still makes a slightly frightening figure as she vibrates with rage.
"You hurt a hair on their heads and I will break every bone in your body!"
Move action: Draw weapon
Move action: Move to somewhere near the hobgoblin that Azure is facing, may draw AoO, in which case .
With a trio of staccato taurine grunts, Azure prepares to take another swing at the hobgoblin...
...but his wild slash is unable to cut through its well-worn studded leather.
From her position crouched down Calliastra slashes at the leg of the Hobgoblin fighting Azure, hoping to set him up for her friend to finish.
As described, Azure's attack doesn't succeed. Callistra catches the hobgoblin engaged with Caeleron by surprise, and her dagger strike goes deep.
Caeleron is briefly freed from the hobgoblin's attentions by Callistra's deep dagger thrust into the goblinoid's side. Recognising that the hobgoblin is likely a much greater threat to Callistra than to himself he slashes out at the hobgoblin's throat, trying to put the savage down before he can hurt her.
Faunra has done all she can really do in that moment, the hobgoblins not being phased by her spell being very off-putting.
The battle appeared to be going in their favor, and so her priority shifted slightly to assessing how they would escape.
She steadily opened the satchel on her hip, tapping it gently to call Meadow to get in.
Once everything was done, she didn't want to get separated from her spirit animal in the chaos that awaited them outside.
With her spare hand, she pulls out a dagger.
'I hope I don't need to use this. But I'd rather be able to fight poorly than not at all'
Callistra's attack presents Caeleron with an opportunity, and he uses it to catch the hobgoblin with his blade, giving it another wound.
Skalla's flail finds air as the other hobgoblin ducks.
Faunra prepares herself for whatever is to come.
Both of the hobgoblins strike back against Caeleron and Azure respectively. Unfortunately for them the sudden entry of extra foes into the fight keeps them off their concentration, and neither can land a telling blow.
Skalla gives a wordless shout of rage as the hobgoblin avoids her swing. Adjusting her grip on her flail, she aims for his knees this time. "You will not find us meek and helpless! We will fight you!"
Azure slashes at the hobgoblin assailant with his scimitar...
... cutting through the invader's ribcage and dragging his blade through his heart.
Callistra takes a step to put the Hobgoblin between herself and Caeleron.
The hobgoblin in the center of the room dodges to avoid Skalla's swinging flail. Unfortunately for him he shifts right into Azure's scimitar slash, which cuts deep and lays him low.
The remaining hobgoblin seems unfazed by his comrade's death and fights on!
One hobgoblin remains, trapping Caeleron in the corner of the inn. The beast is bleeding freely now but seems not to notice. Caeleron remains silent, knowing that his opponent is not long for this world now that Skalla and Azure will be joining the fight. He strikes in a rapid succession of thrusts and slashes, hoping to get his blade past the hobgoblin's defences.
Taking a step behind the last Hobgoblin Callistra stabs him in the back.
The hobgoblin turns Caeleron's attacks aside, only to be stabbed in the back by Callistra. As he falls to the floor, combat ends in the room.
The hobgoblin crumples to the floor, bleeding to death in front of Caeleron, who stoops to clean the blood from his blade on his attacker's cloak. He feels nothing for the dead goblinoid, and his mask of calm indifference remains unchanged as he picks up his longbow from the floor.
Screams echo from outside and Caeleron moves to the door. He reaches up to the lintel where his errant arrow lodged itself. He pulls it from the wood and checks it for damage. A quick look tells him that the arrow isn't significantly damaged and he slides it back into his quiver.
"We need to move away from here," he says. Looking around at Faunra and Callistra, who appear to be the more competent healer in the room, he asks "Can the wounded be moved?" before turning back to guard the doorway.
Callistra nods, happy that someone is calm and professional. Turning to her sister she asks, "Faunra, can you cast a healing spell? If we get her awake she can cast her own spells."
She wipes her dagger clean and tries not to shake too obviously in the aftermath of her first combat and kill, burying her feelings until it is safer.
Deciding that action is better than standing there Callistra checks the bodies of the dead for anything that might be of use to the living.
Skalla rushes to the door, looking outside and trying to make sense of the situation.
"The children! I have to make sure they're safe!"
But there are so many, and most of them were probably with their families when the attack came. Using her "teaching voice", the one that can cut through the din of a battlefield, she starts shouting out names. If any of them are separated, or lost, they would come to her. She watches carefully for any small forms in the chaos.
"Play time is over, kids! No more hide-and-seek! Come to Skalla!"
Faunra gives a sigh of relief that the battle was won without any more casualties.
She is as shaken as Callistra, and trying to hide just as well.
Moving timidly towards the others, she tries to not feel completely worthless in this situation.
"I... I don't have any prepared. They're all for when we... for when we were meant to have a picnic with Mum and Dad."
Tears well up as she looks past Skalla and Caeleron to everything she'd ever known being burned to the ground and the faces she'd known since birth being cut down.
"S-Skalla, drawing attention to us here isn't good. We'd be bringing the children to a dead end. We need to get to the forest. Finding them on the way. Everyone will be running there, the locals anyway."
She wanted to run into the fray, she wanted to find her parents, but she knew her father and that he would have dragged her mother into the forest. If... no when they'd made it, they'd be waiting for her.
"Can anyone else help Aubrin? We'll need everyone we can. If we can get to the forest... If we can get to the forest everyone will be waiting there. If we can get there then we... then we..."
She shrinks next to Azure, gently holding onto a piece of his armor, holding back sobs.
Azure, Skalla, Aubrin, Callistra, we're they the only ones safe? She clung tighter, as if it was all she could do to stop him from disappearing into the chaos, hiding her own horror that it really was.
There was supposed to be home cooked food, and games, and she'd make dancing lights, and they'd stargaze and laugh.
She'd gotten gifts and made plans and it all seemed so stupid and pointless and childish when even her sister was better prepared, more help to everyone she loved.
She was such a child, and now this was all she had left.
"I'll carry her. Don't worry, Faunra, we'll save everyone we can. Why don't you look around here, see if there's anything useful we can take with us. Food that will keep, clean cloth for bandages, strong liquor for cleaning wounds."
She gives Jet the owner an apologetic look. "Sorry for requisitioning your stuff, but it would seem that we are at war now." She starts shepherding the other patrons out the back door. "To the bridge now, and across into the forest. Stick together."
Like before, her survival instincts kick in and anything she might be feeling is shoved deep down beneath the practicalities of moment-to-moment. She is terribly anxious about the children, but Faunra was right. She would search for them as they made their way to a safer location; there was no way she could fight the attackers on her own and survive. And she needed to survive in order to help those children who were still alive. (...and the adults, too, she supposes.)
Caeleron looks back at the sudden flurry of activity in the inn, surprised at the speed with which the villagers were prepared to leave their homes and community behind. He’d heard stories of the Nirmathi fleeing into the forest to avoid trouble, but he hadn’t imagined it would be with this level of ease.
”We should gather as much as we can as quickly as we can. The situation will only worsen. I doubt that we will survive if we stay here,” he stated, before turning back to guard the doorway.
Azure takes deep breaths, already calmer despite the close quarters fighting. He looks at Aubrin, and a pained expression crosses his face. There's absolutely nothing he can do for her. He is powerless when she needs it.
He looks around the room and surveys the scared people. There were so many unanswered questions. The hobgoblins weren't merely marauding.
"They wanted to line us up. Taking prisoners. Not Molthuni. Not bandits. I can carry someone. Aubrin?"
What was the meaning of this? Was that smoke? Were they burning the village?
Azure walks to the door of the Taproot, nodding to Caeleron as he moves. With every step his muscles seem to shrink, and you see a thin matte of grey fur sprout from his exposed skin. He turns to the room once more, and you can see his eyes have changed once more; they are almost entirely gold now, and the tattoos on his face have rearranged to look like a wolf.
Azure stands behind the door, opens it a crack, and sniffs deeply, trying to get a sense of whatever else is out there.
Faunra listens to Skalla and begins to put whatever supplies she can into her backpack, asking Jet for suggestions.