Vhaezil's blast just misses the bugbear.
Daryl's breath leaves a white frost upon the armor of the goblins.
The bugbear steps in front of Daryl to block his path and swings his morningstar,
, but misses again.
gobs 2/7, 5/7, 3/7
bb: 20/27
Cole stands, steps five feet to yhd north anc fires his long bow at the Bugbeat, as he continues to bleed all over himself.
Zask takes a step back and flings a dart at the imposing bugbear with a snap of the wrist,
Lichen moves and casts his Produce Flame spell, throwing it at the bugbear, but is distracted by his wound.
Zask's dart sinks into the bugbear's flesh with a wet thud, but the other attacks miss.
gobs 2/7, 5/7, 3/7
bb: 12/27
Rhys shakes his head at Daryl's bravery, facing the bugbear head on, and for a moment fancies emulating the dragon warrior. Common sense, as well as his bruised side decides against such action.
Unslinging his bow, Rhys quickly knocks and arrow and lets fly...
Erlmander takes aim at the bugbear and lets fly another arrow.
Attack:
Damage:
Arrows fly, only to shatter against the stone walls.
The goblins scamper down the hallway and out of sight.
Frustrated as the bugbear narrowly avoids his infernal energy, Vhaezil sneers in response then pushes past the bowmen in his company
Once clear, he finds himself directly opposite the hulking goblinoid and once again calls upon his fell gifts in his soft voice...
"Eldritch summa industria, acri carpere potentiam tuam, et gloriam meam!"
... summoning crimson energy that spirals toward the brute:
:
:
Daryl's determination is evident in his piercing gaze, as he swings his favorite Warhammer at the offending brute.
Swing
Contact (or not)
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Vhaezil's bolt slams in and the bugbear sags visibly, as the air is blasted from is lungs. Somehow he still is able to duck Daryl's swing. He shouts something down the hall behind him, and then raises his shield, reading himself for your assault.
gobs 2/7, 5/7, 3/7
bb: 3/27
Cole fires again at the cowering Bugbear.
Zask once again flings a dart
He seems to be allowing them to escape! Time is of the essence!!
He manages to get his shield up in time to block Zask's dart, but Cole's arrow streaks past the bugbear's shield to take the creature in the chest. It falls against a wall and sinks to the ground with a wheeze, that becomes a soft chuckle.
He raises a bloody hand to his face, leaving behind a red claw print. "You will burn....You will all burn..." He says with his dying breath.
Lichen eats a berry. He looks like he does not want to burn.
Erlmander moves to see down the hallway, ready to fire on whatever he might see there.
Vhaezil smiles coldly at the bugbear's last words, before adding his own monotone epitaph;
"Oh I know I shall burn terriculamenta. Just not at the hands of you or your stunted ilk."
Erlmander steps into the hallway that the bugbear had been guarding and he feels the floor settle beneath his feet with a ominous click. A gleaming blade scythes out of the wall near head height:
The blade connects with a spray of blood.
Rhys scowls at the bugbear's bravado, then moves forward , following the impetuos elf.
He's just in time to see Erlmander cut down by the trap, spitting "Dammit! "
He looks back to the others, "This place is trapped.When we go , I'll go first. I have some experience dealing with such."
Then, he grabs hold of the fallen Elf and drags him back into the other room.
Daryl rushes to the fallen archers side, and calls forth for some holy healing to bring the elf back from the brink.
"You better stay in the back for now. Once we're through this, I'll see if I can dispense more healing".
A wail of anguish echos up the hallway, followed shortly shortly by a harsh voice.
"You've come for the girl, yes? She still lives. But come closer and I cut her throat."
Vhaezil watches the tall elf trigger the vicious trap, then eyes the gloom ahead as the wicked voice threatens forth.
He looks to his companions impassively as he check's over the bugbear's corpse for anything of interest;
"Gentlemen, a reminder to harvest the terriculamenta's ears."
The diabolist then adds nonchalantly;
"We should parley. Everything and everyone has a price. The child. The owner of that voice... This much I know."
Erlmander thanks Daryl and shakily gets to his feet. He feels the scar from the scythe across his neck and upper chest...a reminder to look first before rushing in!
As Zask nurses his wounds he watches his companions deftly aid the elf.
"We are wounded and don't know what awaits us. I agree we should attempt to bargain. Should we designate one of us to negotiate?"
Vhaezil tips his cowled head toward the towering Dragonborn in their midst;
"Draco will you be our voice? You strike me as noble, and these creatures will likely respect your might and... inhumanity..."
He eyes the paladin impassively before continuing in his soft, flat voice;
"Just avoid sermonising your Saint Thalvus, for these creatures respect little save strength of arms and the power of death. Should you require my counsel, you need only ask..."
You probably don't want me doin' the talkin'. Daryl seems about right.
"I'm the last person you want doing any persuading..." Rhys says sourly, not happy at all with the situation.
Daryl steps forward, clearing his throat as he hears the voice from within.
"All we want is the girl safe, and your word to never visit your wrath on the village again. How do we know she still lives?. Let me come back alone and unarmed to see that she still lives, then we can maybe work out a deal".
Persuasion
"Your mightiest warrior is dead, but you still have a chance to live to breathe another day".
Vhaezil listens intently as Daryl delivers his speech.
In his flat voice he whispers to the others a reminder;
"Heed that I can conjure forth exiguous illusions... A chest say... Trifling perhaps, but the promise of gold therein perhaps not?"
Lichen will continue to eat berries as rounds pass and remind others quietly that there are berries to be had. He holds out a hand with 2 extra.
"Good thinking Vhaezil, if strength is what these minions recognize we may have to offer a... challenger... if our large Draconian fails in negotiation. I currently am in no condition but if time allowed I could be a candidate.
Zask sighs and leans into his quarterstaff, awaiting the outcome of the conversation he lights a torch and begins to search the room.
Cole munches on a goodberry.
There is a brief pause,
"Grishnak was a loyal bodyguard, but hardly an accomplished soldier. He is easily replaceable. As for promises, will you give yours that you will never again strike out at a goblinoid? How many have you killed already for the sake of one mewling human girl? Let's not waste each other's time. You want the girl and I don't want to waste any more of my men. This place is of no use to me anymore and I have no intention of staying in the area."
"If these terms are agreeable, then by all means send the scaled one back here to see that the human still lives. I grant that one safe passage. Oh and do mind the trap, as the door says, 'Only the penitent man shall pass'.
Now that it has been pointed out, you can see faded calligraphy spelling out those words, written above the entryway.
Vhaezil smiles thinly in acknowledgement of Zask's words.
He listens to the creature's retort with an impassive expression, before offering his own thoughts to all;
"Their leader speaks well. Interesting it does not wish coin nor bauble in exchange for the childe... but an oath. To whom or what do we speak I wonder..."
It wants us to promise to never again strike out at a goblinoid? We cannot agree to such an open thing. I can agree never to attack innocent goblinoid, but will defend myself and even hunt bands of marauders or those who attack the farms and towns of men.
"We must be careful here. He has not gauranteed to give us the girl. Merely allowed for one to pass and see that she lives. I sense some treachery in his words friends. I suggest we have them send us the girl in exchange for our "reward" as Vhaezil suggested"
Vhaezil eyes Lichen curiously;
"Wanderer, you do understand that you sign no bond with such an oath? A promise is mere words... Like the trifling commitment of love uttered to a whore, or the well mannered compliment to a poor host. Easily given, yet empty."
The diabolist then mulls his own words, before framing his statement in whispered, flat words;
"Unless of course that voice belongs to a fiend... Then we are all men damned or dead..."
The young man lets his words trail off, then when Zask speaks he refocusses and nods once again;
"Master Quickhand has the right of it. We should tread carefully and speak more carefully still until we know more of our foe's nature and mechanisations."
It wants us to promise to never again strike out at a goblinoid? We cannot agree to such an open thing. I can agree never to attack innocent goblinoid, but will defend myself and even hunt bands of marauders or those who attack the farms and towns of men.
It wants us to promise to never again strike out at a goblinoid? We cannot agree to such an open thing. I can agree never to attack innocent goblinoid, but will defend myself and even hunt bands of marauders or those who attack the farms and towns of men.
"It seems we have reached an accord. I would not strike out at an innocent goblinoid, but would defend myself, and innocents if they are attacked. I would do the same if it was humans, orcs, or angels attacking the innocent. I will now come back and see the girl is safe, then we will allow your withdrawal".
The big Dragonborn begins to unstrap his weapons.
"But be it known if there is treachery afoot, no mercy shall be given".
Lichen eats another berry.
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"Acceptable. Come and witness."
Daryl crawls under the blade trap and continues down the passage, torch held high. He goes down some more stairs and along another short corridor, which is lit by a faint green glow coming from the room ahead. The sound of sobs can also be heard. Turning to enter the room you find a small room filled with the goblins from above. They have their weapons at the ready, but make no move.
The room also has a large hobgoblin kitted out in chainmail over which is draped a tabard sporting a large red clawed hand print and two black robed individuals of indeterminate race. They flank a pedestal from which a statue has been dislodged. It now rests on the floor and in its place is a carved skull, possibly draconic or demonic or both, with glowing green eyes. Terror radiates from it in waves.
Directly in front of the alter, strapped onto a wooden frame is the farmgirl. Her dress has been slit up the back and you can see that she has undergone ritualist scarring. Complex patterns of sigils have been cut into her. Other than the superficial damage, she seems fine.
The hobgoblin addresses Daryl, "Greetings scaled one. I hope Dragotha's presence is not too unnerving. As you can see, the girl still lives. You can return her to her life of milking cows and whelping. It is a shame really, she could have been so much more."