Without warning the dwarf flies into a rage and power attack charges the halfling.
Raging, charge, powerattack with Waraxe: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 7 + 2 + 1 = 23
1d10 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 7 + 3 = 20
”Go ahead and shoot! You won’t be takin s&*+ from me without a fight, let alone my fingers!”
”Kill him first! We’ll mop up the others one by one after and collect the bounty on them! Vorahin said she’d split the gold with us!”
AC 16 currently, Hp 36/36. Let’s cowboy up!
Unsure what Freyja can hear but as soon as she understands there is a threat she will begin to sing Inspire Courage +1 to hit and damage and will saves vs fear. And as soon as she has even a hint that fighting has started she will begin to move towards the fight.
As soon as Helgrim moves, Boggel follows up with an arrow for one of the halfling's accomplices (the man).
longbow: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23 dam: 1d6 ⇒ 5plus electrical dam: 1d4 ⇒ 1
Such a shame.
|Qitaba "Kit" Al-Gurati|
Linguistics (Bluff): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
Kit draws a rough circle on the ground around Jalene with his chalk, adding a few arcane marks along the boundary.
"This is a Magic Circle of Death," he says to the prisoner. "I've drawn it hastily, so it may kill you very painfully and messily, should you step across it. Don't lose your balance now."
Helgrim: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Wulf: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Boggel: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Teasel: 1d20 ⇒ 1
Kit: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Freyja: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Tamris: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Blastwaters: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Tamris Readied Shot vs Helgrim: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 8
Blastwater Short Sword, Flanking vs Helgrim: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 + 2 = 7
Blastwater Short Sword, Flanking vs Helgrim: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 + 2 = 11
Blastwater Longbow vs Boggel: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Teasel Damage: 2d4 + 5 ⇒ (4, 3) + 5 = 12
Helgrim roars his challenge, his voice echoing off the tree trunks and into the night. The sound of his erupting battle rage alerts his comrades still on the road to the skirmish just out of sight among the trees.
As he charges forth, the halfling sharply squeezes the lever on his crossbow and looses his readied shot. The bolt sinks through the weaker armor beneath the dwarf's armpit, although it does nothing to slow his rapid advance. Helgrim buries the head of his waraxe in the halfling's gut, only the small cad's armor preventing the blade from sinking even further.
Boggel's arrow, charged with a minor current of electricity, plunges into the chest of the bandit clutching a bow. Freyja's voice wafts through the air like a nightingale, exhorting her companions to bravery.
The two bandits armed with short swords scramble to surround the raging dwarf, but their blades are foiled by Helgrim's shield and armor. The other, an archer with an arrow in his chest, channels his pain and panic into a shot aimed for the frog man who wounded him - but Boggel deftly evades the arrow that whizzes just over his head, flies out from the trees, whistles past Kit's shoulders back on the road as he etches his "magic circle" around the cart. Despite the slight distraction, Jalene seems to accept the ruse as deadly truth.
Teasel brings her scythe around in an arcing slice, nearly disemboweling the torch-bearing bandit with a single stroke. He falls to the ground, staining the pebbly, grassy ground with his blood. The torch rolls from his hand and begins to sputter.
Freyja's Inspire Courage turns Teasel's near miss into a hit, bringing down one of the bandits.
Wulf can still act before the halfling's turn at the start of the next round.
|Sir Wulf the Wise|
Tamris Acrobatics: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 23
Tamris Magic Rapier vs Helgrim: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 10 + 2 = 28
Rapier Sneak Attack Damage: 1d4 + 2 + 4d6 ⇒ (2) + 2 + (4, 2, 2, 2) = 14
Crossbow Retcon Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Wulf's sling bullet ricochets off a tree trunk and bounces into the brush.
Furious and frightened by the terrible wound dealt to him by the charging dwarf, the halfling bandit tosses aside his crossbow and begins to weave around his foe, evading a swing from Helgrim's axe. He draws a slender rapier as he moves, and when he has the dwarf caught between him and the female bandit, the halfling strikes. The needle-like blade lances through the base of Helgrim's throat, narrowly missing his trachea and veins.
Tamris, the halfling bandit, passes his Acrobatics check to evade an Attack of Opportunity from Helgrim, then he delivers a Sneak Attack using his magic rapier.
Between this attack and the crossbow bolt before, Helgrim has taken 20 damage.
Boggel and Freyja are up next.
Worried about Helgrim, Freyja casts Hideous Laughter on the halfing as she continues to sing, and close, and look for hidden enemies. DC 14 will save
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
With a croak of dismay at Helgrim's wounds, Boggel advances, targeting the halfling. (and putting him in range of healing Helgrim)
bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (20) + 6 + 1 - 4 = 23 dam: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5+electrical: 1d4 ⇒ 2
confirm?: 1d20 + 6 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 1 - 4 = 5 dam: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (6, 1) + 2 = 9+electrical: 1d4 ⇒ 2
Tamris Will Save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Blastwater Short Sword vs Helgrim: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 + 2 = 8
Blastwater Will Save: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8
The same sour, bitter expression dominates the halfling's face, evidence that he has resisted Freyja's spell. However, this mental resilience does not protect the small bandit when Boggel's crackling arrow strikes him, sinking into the wound left by Helgrim's waraxe.
With more foes than he anticipated breaking through the treeline, and his arrow wound paining him greatly, the bow-wielding bandit's morale breaks. He turns and flees, tearing a path through the brush and branches to escape death. The remaining human bandit scrapes her short sword against Helgrim's armor, her attack coming to naught.
Tamris resists the Hideous Laughter. The archer bandit flees.
Kit, Helgrim, Wulf, and Teasel are up next.
”Go into the afterlife knowing that your life was ended by Helgrim Ironstar, Warden of the Last Tower.”
The dwarf heaves a mighty swing at the halfling.
Raging power attack: 1d20 + 6 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (19) + 6 + 1 - 1 = 25
Waraxe: 1d10 + 1 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 1 + 10 = 17
As the axe slams home, the dwarf snarls at the female bandit poking at him with her shortsword.
”Throw down your weapon or I’ll present your head to Vorshin along with his!”
|Sir Wulf the Wise|
Freyja stops singing but her song lingers. She steps forward and readies a stab at the remaining bandit. Your leader is dead. Drop your weapon and surrender to us and you might live to see the sun set.
Intimidate: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
mwk cold iron longsword: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 5 + 1 = 241d8 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 3 + 1 = 9
Freyja's ultimatum freezes the last bandit in place. For a moment, it seems as though rather than surrendering, she will turn and flee. However, seeing the array of arms surrounding her, and the furious and bleeding dwarf at her back, she thinks better of it. The last bandit drops her short sword as though it were a serpent, and she tosses her hands into the air.
"I yield, I yield," she insists, her voice wavering somewhere between fright and frustration. "I ain't lettin' that slip get me kilt."
Huffing and puffing, but still visibly angry, the dwarf drops out of his rage.
”Search the dead and secure the prisoner.”, he growls.
To the surrendering woman he directs a question.
”How many more of you are out here hiding in the woods? I really meant it when I told him we didn’t want or need a beef. We were just tryin to get through.”
"There ain't any more of use. Puck, Geridan, and I were the only sots Tamris could con into joining his gang," the bandit woman explains. "As ya might'a noticed, that slip didn't have what ya'd call a winnin' personality. Hells, I was planning on splittin' up 'til he came in with this 'big score' he jus' found out'about. Said there was big money in keepin' some tavern wench out of the army's hands."
The fallen human bandit has little upon him: a suit of leathers sliced by Teasel's scythe, a short sword and longbow, half a dozen arrows rattling in a makeshift quiver, and a smattering of coins in a sock tied to his belt.
The halfling, however, carries treasures well beyond a common highwayman. His freshly polished rapier, still streaked with Helgrim's blood, his studded leather armor, and his light crossbow are all of superb quality. Although it has gone some time without being washed, his cloak is also of note: woven from mountain wool and trimmed with ermine fur. He wears matched gold rings on either hand; they are set with small, well-cut garnets and Helgrim recognizes them of old dwarven craftsmanship. A necklace of silver links, also of dwarven make, is hidden beneath the jacket of his armor. He carries a few other oddments on his person, too.
2 Short swords
Magic Studded Leather Armor
MWK Light Crossbow
2 Gold+Garnet Rings (200gp each)
Silver Necklace (50gp)
|Sir Wulf the Wise|
"Smart choice" he says leaning on his staff and smiling as he then turns.
"Check them for weapons leave her a staff and a dagger, bring everything back with us" he says hoping the last Bandit can survive with those tools alone.
"Except food and armor, Unless that is she chooses to come along peaceably and then we can decide what to do with her later"
”Where is the other one goin? Do you have a camp around here?”
The dwarf looks at the Halfling’s jewelry.
”Hummmm. And do you know where these here came from?”
The dwarf looks her over.
”And what’s yer name and story? Why are you out here tryin to rob folks?”
”And no lyin now either. Truth or nothing.”
Out if curiosity, Boggel examines the items through his magical senses. "I can tell that some of the halfling's equipment is magical, but I'm afraid I'm not very practiced at identifying such properties." He shrugs. "Perhaps in the future. Meanwhile, let me help you with some of your wounds, Helgrim."
clw: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
"We've jus' been livin' in town. Puck's an idiot," she declares. "The only thing in that direction is the Gleamin' Tower. You scared him so bad he ran without thinking."
She eyes the halfling's treasures with eyes full of curiosity and envy.
"Back in the day, Tamris was part of some big-shot adventurin' band," she explains. "He probably picked those up in some old dwarf ruin in the mountains."
Being asked about herself leaves the bandit woman's brow furrowed in confusion and frustration.
"M'name's Yara, and I'm out here 'cause I weren't born rich," she snaps. "I'm not goin' to dig myself into debt swingin' an axe for the Consortium. I tried workin' a farm, but the owner was too grabby. Nothin' else worked out, so here I am, swimmin' in sweat, bugs crawlin' all over me, and watchin' folks get kilt."
|Sir Wulf the Wise|
"I can understand the farmer part, Taking advantage of ye probably fer payment is just sick." he says looking at her tapping his chin.
"Ye willing t' put in a hard back-breakin' day of work, for food and board and a bit o' coin?" he says looking to Helgrim and then the others.
"Cause I have a farm in Falcons' Hallow that I could always use a hand in. Have a lot of mouths in town and out to feed. Might suit ye just fine, if not that is okay, You can make a little coin and move on.All I ask is don't do anything illegal be good to the common folk, good t' yer neighbor and protect the farm and those on it. Does that sound like something you'd be interested in Yara?" he says offering her a possible Second Chance.
The mention of Falcon's Hollow elicits a groan and a sour expression from the would-be bandit woman.
"Maybe prison'd be better," Yara grumbles under her breath. She then looks up at the faces arrayed around her, wreathed in shadows cast by the dying torch on the ground, and more thoughtfully weighs her options.
"Very well," she sighs. "Jus' don't mention me to the soldiers at the tower, and I'll do it."
|Qitaba "Kit" Al-Gurati|
Kit busies himself with erasing his "Circle of Death" and takes a look at the halfling's gear.
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
"Tamris, eh? Who did your dead friend speak with? I suppose it doesn't matter," says the Qadiran. "We can query people back in town after we've made our delivery."
"We'll need to report the dead to the Tower," says Qitaba to Wulf. "I don't know how you'll explain Yara; I'll leave that up to you. It is common in the Kelesh Empire to purchase a person's bond of service in return for protection; I'm not certain the Andorens will understand that, as such bonds sometimes...lack manumission." A typical Qadiran, he skirts around the words "slavery" and "freedom".
He gave Yara a look. "I do not look upon banditry with favor, but a man making attempts at your person in an untoward fashion is despicable. I am confident that Sir Wulf will respect your bodily and personal autonomy, even within a worker's bond. He is an honorable man. It is a better choice than prison, and we intend to give Falcon's Hollow a thorough...scrubbing." This last word leads him to glance again at Jalene.
|Sir Wulf the Wise|
"Yara will be explained as a guide who was coerced into leading caravans into ambushes? or something like that. But with someone more convincing than I" he says heading back to the wagon.
Kit is easily able to identify the +1 Rapier, +1 Studded Leather Armor, and Cloak of Resistance +1
"I don't know who he talked to," Yara explains, inching away from the bleeding bodies. "Like I said, he jus' came in, braggin about this big score."
As Wulf walks back to the wagon, Yara's eyes dart between Tamris' body and the party.
"Yer not goin' to take his body? There's a pretty big bounty on him. It'd be a damn fool thing to pass up."
Meanwhile, as you return to the wagon, you find that Jalene remains seated where you left her, albeit she is somewhat fidgety. Perhaps the prospect of the "circle of death" coupled with imagined monsters among the trees keeps her fearfully in place.
Helgrim glares his eyes and mutters under his breath at first, but as the conversation goes on he ultimately shakes his head and to chuckle to himself a bit with a sense of resignation.
He waits for Wulf to walk off a bit before speaking to Yara.
”That’s one of the good men there Yara. He’s spared your life and is givin it back to yee. He has a soft spot for young women that have been abused. He’s taken in and adopted a few kids. Keeps them fed, let’s em work with his wee animals, gives them a home, but most importantly, he keeps them safe from harm again and would give up his own life to see to it.”
He nods towards Wulf.
”That one there. He’s a knight.”
The dwarf then taps his own breastplate.
”Me. I’ve got a soft spot too.”
”I am very protective about those who are my friends. Those who are loyal. Those who can earn my trust.”
”I’m a little put off that you were ready to try to kill me, murder my friends, and all for but a few coppers. So, if you are going to let us down just slip away in the night. I’ll see and hear you go, I won’t make a move against you. There will be no hard feelin’s.”
”If you stay and earn our trust, then you will have benefit of our company.”
”So. Where is your head at girl?”
Helgrim watches Teasel up the halflings body. He starts wiping the blood off of his axe with a rag he carries for the purpose. He points the former bandit towards her fallen companion.
”Yara. Drag your dead former team mate over to the cart while you are thinkin on it. Keep in mind, you cross me, you hurt Wulf. You’ll end up like him.”
The dwarf picks up the tiny rapier and studded armor.
”Boggel. I know ye aren’t much for armor, but how about this enchanted squirrel shank here? A step up from silver for sure. I wonder if this armor will resize itself. And who wants Deadman McRunty’s cloak”
”Heh, let’s pick it all up and let’s get goin. The one that’s run off will go back to town. Should we hunt him down? Or leave him to to wolves? I guess we could tie up that loose end before we go.”
Even through the dying light of the grounded torch, those without preternatural eyesight can see the disgusted look play across Yara's face.
"Hey now," she protests, her palms raised plaintively, "I'll work on your farm, I'll feed your animals, and I promise I won't stab you in the back, but I'd really rather not be carryin' corpses. I'll be drawin' a line there."
”Leave’em be Teasel. This is a time for her to reflect on things. Keep in mind, Vorshin intended her to be draggin our dead bodies . . . “
Intimidate using Physical Presence: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
”Yara. I didn’t ask you. I told you to do it. Now let’s get movin.”
All the while Helgrim watches her with a judgy eye. Trying to acertain the measure of the woman and how this all would play out.
Sense motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
|Qitaba "Kit" Al-Gurati|
Kit arches an eyebrow. "I figured Vorshin was behind this somehow, but you could have told us Jalene-guards a little earlier. Well, we'll take care of her as well."
He nods at the cloak. "Armor isn't for me, but that cloak is useful to any of us...including, of course, me. Now, let's be off, shall we? We have a prisoner to deliver." He glances at Yara. "And a body. If all recent prisoners could please stay as quiet as this halfling fellow, that would be truly delightful."
Teasel and Yara carry Tamris' body to the cart. Jalene eyes the scene with confused curiosity, while the sight of the bound prisoner in the back of the cart also elicits bewilderment in Yara.
"What dirty business is this now?" Jalene calls sarcastically. "Have you thrown yourselves fully into the work, rounding up more prisoners? You're losing your touch at keeping them alive, it seems."
”Meh! This one pissed me off.”
”Actually drew blood on me too, can you believe that!?”
Helgrim said as he climbed back up on his horse.
”Evidently our favorite guide and caravaner set up a little suprise party for us. Four of em to be exact.”
He prepares to ride again.
Two dead. One run off, and this one here was the only smart one of the bunch, so she gets to live.”
He looks in the direction the bowman disappeared towards.
”I’m still wonderin if we should the one that’s run off down or if he will even be able to get into town at night if he makes it to the gates. Iff’in he does get back into town then he will tell Vorshin that her hired sword and his band of merry cuttthroats got handled.”
He smiles to Jalene and gives her a wink.
”Keep in mind. You can always tell the tower what’s been goin on in town, both with the Red Rock and Kreed. That’s your ticket to freedom and redemption. One life traded for all the ones in the basement of Ole’One Eye sounds fair. You can help us stop that.”
”I made an oath to get you to the tower. This one tried to stop me. Heh heh.”
|Qitaba "Kit" Al-Gurati|
Qitaba swiftly and efficiently ties a gag in Jalene's mouth.
"I asked you to stay quiet as the dead. You had better pray to whatever gods look upon your miserable person with pity that we retain our touch with regards to keeping you alive. I might get lazy," says the Qadiran.
"Any more sounds, you trollop, and we'll deliver you without a tongue. You'll survive that, and we'll all feel better without it waggling in your head. I suggest you listen this time."
Linguistics Intimidate: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24
Boggel's archetype isn't proficient in the rapier so we might as well sell it or maybe we can trade it for an equivalent item
Boggel appreciates the offer, but turns down the rapier. "It's not a weapon I'm handy with. Perhaps we could sell it instead."
The muted look in Jalene's eye, accentuated by the involuntary shivers down her shoulders, speaks volumes. If she were currently capable of clear thought, she might wonder whether she currently fears the dwarf or the Qadiran more.
Now transporting two prisoners and a dead bounty, the party coaxes its cart and animals back along the road eastward. Night has well and truly fallen, making it difficult for some of you to see more than a few yards ahead. After the previous ambush, every tree and bush gains a sinister aspect. You spook more than a few raccoons and nightbirds, but nothing so large as the former ambushers lurks nearby.
The Gleaming Tower of Adamas soon comes into view, catching the moonlight in a way that makes it almost glow.
Drawing closer, you find that the 65-foot tall circular tower of white marble rises from the floor of Darkmoon Plain at the base of the Elberwick Rise. The lower 25 feet of the tower is built pressed against the cliff wall itself, while the remaining 40 feet rises freely above. Atop the shelf, a circular wall of the same white marble extends out from the tower and surrounds the stronghold's courtyard.
|Sir Wulf the Wise|
Wulf makes the wagon roll again as he hums horribly some local tune he had heard once at Jak'n'Apes. As he does he smiles remembering what it was like with more of his family about. He also tried to ignore what the others were trying to pull, he hated having to be so deceitful but at the same time he knew, in the long run, it would keep the prisoner complaint which made it safer for her and them.
At the tower gate he hands the reigns over to whoever was next to him and hops off the wagon to stride over to the gate and tap on the little locked window.
"Hello I am Sir Wulf of the Eagle Knights, Rank of Sergeant, Traveller under the Twilight Talon, Liason to the Steel Falcons, and Sergeant of the Golden Legion. I have come from Falcons' Hallow with a Prisoner for you, as well as a report on the state of the city proper. I and my companions also have a couple of bandits which we seek to claim a bounty on. After that, if we could get a nice meal and a place to bunk for the night that would be grand as well." he says being earnest.
Teasel just looks a little despondent after picking up Tamris' body. "You know I rushed up ahead because I thought there were were werewolves. I'm a little disappointed," she says putting it neatly on her donkey.
Freyja looks at Teasel like she is crazy. No one should want to find a were. she states flatly. Thank the gods that we did not this night. Bandits with murderous intent was quite enough for me, it was.
As the group approaches the tower Freyja marvels at the rising walls. I'd hate ta have to scale those walls, I would. And hate it more if there were defender on top with rocks and boiling oil and weapons and the desire to stop me. Lets hope there are friends inside and some hot stew left in their pots.
|Qitaba "Kit" Al-Gurati|
Kit nods at Freyja and Teasel. "You'd become one hairy tree, Teasel. Best to keep them at a distance."
Kit has seen tall towers before--such wonders are perhaps more common in majestic Qadira--but he certainly marvel's at Sir Wulf's demeanor. What is this...military Lord...doing running a farm? Unless I am mistaken. I can't make heads nor tails of the gentry in this confusing land.
"Good thing we come bearing gifts, Freyja," he says quietly.
A pair of tired, bloodshot eyes greet Wulf through the viewing port, but once he announces the party's business, all trace of exhaustion is traded for confusion upon the door sentry's face.
"Oh? Um, one moment, please," the sentry stammers before stepping away without closing the viewing port.
You are left standing before the sturdy, oaken door for at least five minutes before the door sentry returns with an officer in tow. Much to the sentry's relief, the officer takes command of the situation.
"Good evening. I am Lieutenant Garibaldi. The information passed along to me was a little hurried," he says, his eyes briefly darting over to the nervous sentry, "so I'd beg your pardon if you'd please repeat your business before admitting you entry."