Ko'Kori's strike pierces the man's guard and carves a dreadful hole in his side. Wounded but not unconscious just yet, the man growls "You will not strike me again, b@@@+" and steps back, firing arrows at Ko'Kori; one of the goblins joins him, two others drop bows, draw swords and go for Malen.
Seemingly unable to aid Joshua on his own, Quee gathered the man - heavy - into his arms and slowly made back towards the town. There must be someone who can help him! His stride was steady, slowed to a pace where the man in dire condition wouldn't be jostled overmuch.
Kjell steps forward and draws two more arrows, firing them again at the robed figure, his aim guided by holy vengeance. Arne shrieks again, the shrill screech of the osprey echoing above the sounds of battle.
Malen moves away from the cluster of enemies, his whip snapping out at the nearest archer.
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Malen's whip strikes out, toppling a goblin skirmisher to the ground with an ignoble thump. Kjell is not so lucky, his arrows easily dodged by the hooded man.
Quee grabs the burly Joshua, dragging him around to the cathedral; she can only get so far, still out of sight from the front of the cathedral.
With a final slash, Ko'Kori drops the figure to ground. With a silent gasp, he falls unconscious, his hood pushed back by his fall to reveal his face.
Their leader felled, the digging goblins down their tools and flee through a northern gate out into the forests. The goblin skrmishers hold their nerve, and attack.
Kjell's expression doesn't change when the hooded man drops to the ground, although inside he surges with the rush of victory. Now to end the lesser threats. He turns his aim on the other goblins, continuing to fire a volley of arrows, even as his new friends fall around him. Arne lets out a screech and swoops at one of the archers, clawing at its face.
Kjell's arrows skate off armor, but Arne's holy claws slash at goblin eyes, temporarily blinding one of the skrimishers. The others growl and rush up.
The blinded goblin scrapes blood from his eyes and furiously fires arrows at Arne, letting loose goblin warcries.
Out of the direct fray finally, Quee sets down the body of Joshua, making one final rushed attempt to stabilize him.
Regardless of the fruits of his labors, he wasn't strong enough to carry him all the way to safety. He would need to stay and fight.
Invoking the summoning ritual, Quee began to call Lurtema to his side.
Running around the cathedral, Quee calls out for aid; one of Father Zantus' acolytes hurries over with a simple cantrip to stop Joshua's bleeding.
Kjell waits for a moment while Arne lets out a screech and dives at the goblin again, trying to blind it once more.
While the osprey does its work with talons and feathers, Kjell drops his bow and draws his sword. "You will not harry this town any further! Sandpoint is under the protection of Erastil, now! It is under protection!" With that, he brings the weapon to bear against one of the creatures.
With the bird focused on his eyes, the harried goblin sees a chance for a blow, striking once then again.
Taking a blow from Kjell's sword, the goblin skirmisher locks eyes with the holy warrior and snarls defiance as he readies to attack back; he freezes suddenly, as the sound of numerous heavy footfalls approach from the south, barked orders in a deep voice, the rattle of weapons and armor. Blade waving with desire to stab at Kjell, the goblin curses, turns and flees, grabbing his fellow and dragging them away from the fight. One of them turns their head at Kjell as they run and with an effort bark out "Anne-other time, longshanks!"
Kjell takes a few steps after the goblins, breathing heavily, but he stops and plants his sword in the ground. Glancing around, he sees the fallen, wounded forms of his comrades, and perhaps whoever came from behind him during the fight. He nods thanks to those present and immediately moves to Ko'Kori's fallen form, pointing to Malen as well. "That one needs attention now. I'll get her to the temple."
Once he ensures everyone will be stabilized at the temple, he returns to the battle site and sets about gathering his arrows. "This man needs to be searched, stripped, and thrown in your jail," he says as he yanks an arrow out of the cloaked figure. "There are a number of questions we should ask."
Acolytes stream out to stabilzie the wounded and take them inside of the temple; but for the moment, to heal them no more.
The guards arrive- six men, headed by the burly Sheriff Hemlock. He raises an eyebrow at Kjell and his bloodied sword, the remains of the battlefield, and nods. Barking an order, a man grabs the figure and tosses his hood back. Hemlock blinks in surprise, and mutters a word; "Tsuto..." before cursing.
Kjell pauses as he pulls the last arrow from where it stuck into a gnarled old stump. Good investment, these things. Man wasn't kidding when he said they'd outlive me. He frowns and slides it into his quiver, turning to the sheriff. "You know that man?"
Hardly waiting for a reply, the Ulfen steps up and offers the man his hand. "Kjell Amundsson at your disposal, sir. I'm right in assuming you're Sheriff Hemlock? I'm here to help your town however I'm able. Seems like today was a good day to come." He gives a brief, joyless smile, and raises an arm just as his osprey flaps down to land. "And this is Arne."
A firm shake meets you. "Aye. This is Tsuto Kaijitsu; Ameiko's brother. Bad blood between him and many. If he was with these goblins... hrmph." More smoke and noises rises from the rest of the town and the immense shoanti sheriff turns. "My men and I are needed elsewhere. After this, at the reckoning, your help will be remembered. If you and your comrades still wish to fight, persuade the priest to open his healing stock reserves. Good luck."
Barring anything more, the sheriff turns and leaves with the rest of his men for the west of town.
Kjell nods and moves indoors of the temple. Arne shifts up to his shoulder as the paladin asks for the head priest. "Father, my allies fought valiantly against a man and his brutes as they tried to defile your holy ground, steal a corpse. If you could find it in your heart to provide healing of any kind, so we might continue to help your town, Estig and I would be very grateful."
Bent in prayer over an unconscious man, Father Zantus rises and turns to Kjell. "Your words move me, child... but I fear that before this day ends, many more will be knocking at our doors, bloodied and desparate. To offer our power too generously too early could lead to many dead where otherwise they might return to their families saved. I hope you see my dilemma."
Kjell shakes his head. "With all due respect, Father, to withhold your power now would lead to many more dead. Most of the townsfolk flee and hide, seeking shelter where it is offered. They're smart people, hardened people, to live on the frontier like this. I respect them for that, but they aren't warriors. They can't fight this, can't fend off the attack and protect themselves."
The paladin draws his bow and holds it out, as though offering for Zantus to grip it above Kjell's own fist. "But I can. They can. And we have. A quiver can slay as many lives as it holds arrows, but how many more could it save? If a shepherd saves his sling for a linnorm, how many of his flock will be lost to wolves and thieves?" His eyes take on a hard glint and he stares directly at the older priest. "I swear on my life and my bow that we can save your town, Father. We only need a little aid to give so much more in return."
The father hesitates, then nods in sudden determination. "You are right, my son. Forgive my fear... I can still see Pharasma's throne in my head, it has laid me coward." He unconsciously grips the scar left from the sword wound that smote him low.
He claps his hand as he and two acolytes disappear further into the cathedral; they return quickly with potions and wands, stepping around the wounded group as a flurry of golden light fills the air.
Zantus nods, and turns to Kjell. "Will you accept my blessing, my son?"
"Of course, Father." Kjell gives a small smile. "Though I serve Erastil, as you call him, all good faiths give respite and hope to the downtrodden, and any help is appreciated."
"Of course; I offer my own blessing, I would never seek to deny you your own." From a pocket, Zantus retrieves a small bottle of water, and a pouch. He carefully metes out a few specks of silver into the bottle. Stirring it with a finger, he carefully anoints Kjell's forehead with it, whispering a prayer before wiping it off. "Hail Starsong full of grace, lift this young warrior up that he might fight for freedom and truth. Bless his blade with light, his heart with starfire, his battles with fortune. Hail Dreamer full of grace."
As Malen wakes, he picks up his whip and returns it to his belt, nodding his head in thanks to Father Zantus and the acolytes before clapping Kjell on the shoulder, Thanks for saving our bacon there. We would have been done for.