Korvosa, jewel of Varisia….Oh, how time has passed and things changed since you last had been in its shadow? Probably not since the winter, in late Kuthona, when King Eodred fell ill and his young beautiful wife, Queen Illeosa, began ruling in his place with his blessing. Many of the populace of Korvosa begrudgingly accepted the fact that the King had to remarry after the suicide of his saintly first wife, Cassandra, three years ago if he wanted a male heir to the throne. Yet, Queen Illeosa, a foreigner, had yet to conceive and deliver the child so promised, despite the enormous expense spent on witch doctors, prophets, and any other type of healer the Queen had brought in, from as far as Tian. This fact alone did not put her in good graces with the people of Korvosa. As you make your way home, you have heard disturbing rumors about the current state of affairs in your home city. There is much unrest and protest. King Eodred is never seen in public now and given the Year of the Faithless, it is rumored his health is deteriorating without remedy, as the clergy of Abadar, Sarenrae, and even Asmodeus have proven unable to cure his ailment. Queen Illeosa’s extravagant use of the treasury to build statues in her honor and throw lavish parties, while the King lies ill, also has not endeared her to the masses. Rumors of critics of the royal family and protesters disappearing in the night also run rampant, as the situation is said to grow more volatile with each passing day of this cursed year. Still….this is the only home you’ve ever known and what you need most of all is its comfort and embrace…if you can survive this storm!
As you make your way to the inn, heavy rain bombards you, as well as the occasional lightning and thunder. You are wet, cold, and upset and seeking refuge. The 40-degree weather also does not help. Large puddles of water form and you are soaked from head to toe when you see among the lightning flash, the wooden sign of a green colored fish, with the name “Sleeping Mackerel” etched into it, most likely with a knife or other sharp tool. As you slog through the mud through the dirt road, you see the road split: east toward the rest of town, north toward the countryside, and south back to the pier and dock. The smell of salt air is unmistakable, as is the warmth of a fireplace as you approach the building.
As you walk in through the main double doors, the wooden floors creak under your weight, but the establishment looks sturdy. You see a common room filled with 5 circular tables, a bar, a door which you assume leads to a kitchen, and stairs heading upstairs, to the rooms you assume. Dried stains of blood on the floor and holes in the wall suggest this place has seen its fair share of violence. Above the bar are several parchments of paper in a row, held in the wall by a knife. The top sheet of parchment reads 320 in big red letters. As you stare at the number, you are suddenly interrupted by the bartender, whom you failed to notice standing behind the bar, In case, you’re wondering, that’s the number of god forsaken days left in this year! By the way, welcome to the Sleeping Mackerel. Wipe yer boots or feet on the mat or else you be cleanin’ the floor afterwards. Seems Abadar be blessin’ me establishment tonight with yer business. I sure need the coin. Rain, rain harder! Hahaha! The man’s boisterous laughter almost drowns out the lightning and thunder. He is human, stands 6’ tall with a portly belly, placing his weight at almost 250, you believe. He looks to be about 40 years old and has a tattoo of an anchor on his right forearm. He points to the tables. Please, please sit. I am Harwell. Jenna, put some more fish on the skillet, we got customers!
Todor will wipe his boots on the mat as he enters. Forced to abandon the caravan for now, Todor will be wearing his scale armor since it's easier to carry that way rather than out of actual concern for his safety. He will approach the bartender, "Hot food sounds wonderful. Thank you. An ale also, sir." Todor will pull out a couple silver pieces (or whatever is requested) for the food and ale and inquire about lodging. He'll wait for the ale and then sit at a common table, not distancing himself from others, but not trying to be the center of conversation either. He will rest his backpack on the floor next to him with his shield over it.
Todor will talk with Tristain. "Does the rain upset you as much as it does me this day? While it does slow down construction, normally I find the rain to be just another robe that dresses a city and accentuates its looks. However, since I have no city to view, I only see empty robes. You on the other hand must lose your art to the rain. Of course, by nature your works are much more transitory."
Tristain pokes at his fish with his fork.
Cooked too dry and too expensive for the size of it.
He looks up at Todor as if remembering that he had asked to sit at his table.
"The rain, like all things in nature, is both boon and bane to me. I would draw my chalk art on the storefronts of merchants for a few coin. You know, to decorate the space in the absence of their gods and such, but the rains can wash that away quickly, which cuts down on the value and price of my work. So, you're right. And my true masterpieces of city art get washed away as well...well, which again gives me a new canvas upon which to work...another boon."
Tristain picks up a piece of fish meat and bites into it, his half-elven ears barely showing out from his black hair.
"Like most things in life, I can see the boon and bane in them. I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. I'm Tristain of Korvosa. As you've alread guessed, I'm a chalker."
Tristain picks up the fish skeleton and begins to bite between the bones to get last bits of flesh.
"Yeah see? Even this rain tonight is both boon and bane. I could be resting easily outside for the night, but instead I must spend rare coin so that I live the night. On the good side, I have met you." Tristain waggles his fish skeleton at Todor as he speaks.
Reaching out with his other hand, Tristain offers a shake: "Well met."
Reaching out with his other hand, Tristain offers a shake: "Well met."
Todor accepts the offered hand, "Well met indeed. I appreciate your ability to understand fully how the rain affects you both negatively and positively."
Todor drinks deeply from his ale as he contemplates his next question, "Korvosa. I am from there also. I am in construction. I don't recognize you, but it is a large city. I cannot wait to return there and continue working on more permanent fixtures. No offense to you art, but I am most swayed by the magnificent structures such as Castle Korvosa." Todor raise his hand high in the air and then lets it drop away in a sweeping motion. "Although, they too can be washed away by the rain if not cared for properly."
With the badge of the Sable Company clearly displayed on his armor, anyone with even a passing familiarity with Korvosa recognizes Elric for what he is.
The ranger moves to the bar, leans his long-hafted hammer against the counter and addresses the barkeep.
"A dry place to spend the night would not go amiss, even if it is a spot under the rafters to hang my hammock. I won't turn down that fish either, or a mug of dark ale to wash it down. Seeing as I've been eating navy grub for the past many weeks, most anything would do."
His order placed, Elric moves to a vacant seat, scanning the room while he waits for his food. He does not initiate conversation, but answers politely if spoken to.
Boy, by the size of ye, I can see the navy is keepin' you well fed. Well, I'll give you the special, fish fillet, with onions and potatoes and some fine ale. That will be 3 silver pieces. Drop them here in me jar and take a seat anywhere. Harwell walks over to the kitchen, Jenna, darlin', one more special. The big burly man scans the room, as he begins to swab a mug with the rag in his hand. My, a lot of new faces in town this rainy night. You leavin' Korvosa or travelin' there? Many folk leavin' now more than ever, with the Queen takin' the reigns of power. Hope the King gets better soon, so that b@*!* can go back to trying to make babies. Harwell pauses, as he finishes his last sentence. He eyes Elric, You ain't one of her spies, are ye? Well, even if ye are, I don't care, she can kiss my ass! More boisterous laughter follows.
Stop annoying these poor wet folk, Harwell. A blond plump woman in her late 30s comes out, carefully balancing a plate carrying fried fish, the smoke and aroma flowing off of it. She scans the common room and drops it off at Todor's table. The food smells delicious. Looking at Elric, Don't worry, sweetie, yours is coming up next. She then goes back into the kitchen, giving Harwell a mischievous smile. Harwell passes by Elric's table and drops off a mug of ale. You leave my woman alone, marine.
He then passes by the other table with a pitcher and fills up Tristain and Todor's mugs. So, ye be men o' war? You certainly dressed for it.
"Man o' War? ME?" Tristain looks around to be sure that he was the one being spoken to.
"Oh no, I'm not a man of war, this armor," Tristain plucks at this leathers, "is just to keep me safe. I carry my staff just in case...you never can be too careful when out of the city, or in the city for that matter."
Tristain takes another bite of his fish before remembering something that he just heard.
"Excuse me, Miss? Did that man, your husband?, just say something about Korvosa?" Tristain looks alarmed.
"What is happening? People are leaving? Why?"
Tristain leans over to Todor to ask a question but realizes he doesn't know the man's name yet.
"Excuse me, sir? Do you know what he was talking about?"
The bulky man, who introduced himself as Harwell when you walked in, and he told all of you to wipe your boots on the mat, looks up with a puzzled look on his face. Where you been, man? Under a rock, somewhere? That Queen... Harwell pauses as he turns his face in disgust and then continues..I can't even say her name. She's been runnin' the show down in Korvosa for the past 2 months now, all the while the King lays close to death, they say. Spending all of my taxpayer money on statues and such. Like she be worthy of any honor? I tell ye, the world's comin' to an end. First, the gods abandon us and then they send this bi*ch to rub it in. Harwell pauses and looks up, They're definitely some sick bastards. Just then, you hear a fierce crack of lightning followed soon by rolling thunder. Harwell looks up defiant, Good, glad to know you're still there! He goes back to wiping his mugs.
"What? Really? I don't pay much attention to politics...or paying taxes for that matter. I contribute back to the City and Society in different ways." Tristain returns to concentrating on his food.
I need to get back. I hope this is all exaggeration and hearsay. Not my city. Not Korvosa.
For all that she feels at home at sea, Serry is nonetheless very happy to find the tavern open. Time to get out of the rain.
As she enters, she'll wipe her bare feet on the mat and wipe the rain from her face. As usual, she can't see over the bar, but there's no mistaking the barkeep. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Harwell," she says with a bright smile. "That fish smells fabulous; would you have enough for one more? And some ale, too. And if you've a room left with all us storm-tossed folks descending on you, I'd gladly rent one. Or even a corner to put a bedroll."
Looking around the room, she notes the marine from the boat. She heads for his table, him being the only familiar face. "Mind if I join you?"
Hearing the tail end of the conversation, Serry looks curiously at the other occupied table. How could anyone from Korvosa not know about this?
Penance is a silent man who generally goes around shirtless, the better to show his numerous scars and tattoos worn more like burdensome chains than badges of honor.
Along his chest, back, arms and face are a number of scars made from contact with bladed weapons indicating that PEnance has been in numerous knife fights and judging by his well toned muscular body, likely came out on top. A number of horrific scars cover his back, a sign of self flagelating
He has several tatoos. The most striking is the image of a demon coviering his entire back, a sign of his burden. Along both his arms a pair of vipers coil down from his elbows into snake heads along his fists, a warning to what he is capable of. His head is shaved and a wicked looking brand in the form of Asmodeus's symbol is scarred into his fore head, a signature of ownership. On his chest is a long tatoo of names, or when he couldn't remember names, descriptions. These describe his victims etched on his body, a reminder of past ill doings. There are other smaller tattoos on his body showing various things but these are all merely tiny reminders of past days.
Beyond these features is an otherwise wiry chelaxian man with haunted looking eyes.
To Penance his circumstances were unsurprising for all he knew his return would be heralded in a rain of blood. He had spent most of his time on the boat remaining separate from the rest of the passengers and crew. Most of the time he would meditate, some times he would exercise vigorously, other's he would spar with an invisible opponent or practice his bow blindfolded in the dark recesses of the deck trying to "feel" his target rather than see it. He was getting a knack for it he knew but he wasn't quite there yet. But perhaps what was disturbing the crew was the ritual of self torture he underwent sometimes. Taking a scourge made from frayed rope and beating himself for an hour. That was probably it. But what was he to do? They tossed him out of prison with hardly a word, the Order demanded that he be punished, he demanded that he be punished. If the Chelaxian empire and the Order of Penance couldn't do it he'd have to do it himself.
Penance sits quietly at the table with the other passengers not quite sure himself whether this was invitation only. He figure's if it was he'd simply be questioned, or chased off and he would not break his vows in the asking. As the fish is placed before him he notice it is tasty, and delicious, and savory, he feels guilty even having it near him and at first he's reluctant to even have some. He looks at the innkeeper imploringly with a questioning look rubbing index finger and thumb together in askance. He barely had three silver pieces and some coppers on him the result of an...incident on the road to the ship.
Yes, he would have to get the names on his chest updated after that. More descriptions, more blood, more pain. It was all he had left.
To be fair they were brigands thinking him richer than he was. To be more fair he was unarmed. But they were unskilled, untrained, and they simply did not have Penance's killer instinct. What was frightening to him was not the four armed men and their one bow. Nor was it there hunger for mayhem and lust for blood. It was the ease of which he dispatched them with his bare hands. He had not meant to kill them, not really. But his hands moved on their own, and his eyes darted coldly from one vital point to another with cold calculating precision. That frightened him. He buried the men as proper as he knew and only took that which he needed. Unfortunately they were as poor as one might expect of such brigands.
He barely listened to the men's irritation with politics. What point was there to worry about such temporal material things when the vast chasm of eternity lay bare before them?
...king is dying...She's been running' the show...Spending all of my taxpayer money on statues and such.
Todor sighs inside. Money flows to glorify Korvosa and I'm travelling the world fixing broken limbs and curing other ailments that would heal with time and proper care. I'm not even that good of a healer.
So, ye be men o' war? You certainly dressed for it.
"No, sir. As with my dining companion, this armor is merely for protection. The only thing this hammer has ever crushed are nails, rocks, and timbers. I build rather than tear down--unless of course it's to build something more magnificent."
Todor notices Elric and his badge of the Sable Company, but finishes his meal with Tristian, exchanging names sometime during their conversation. When he finishes, "Excuse me, Tristian, but I really must return to Korvosa as soon as possible and I see a member of the Sable Company over there. I'm going to inquire as to his route."
Todor will take his mug of ale to Elric's table and introduce himself, "Good evening, sir. I'm Todor Orban and I couldn't help but notice that you're a member of the Sable Company. I too am from Korvosa. Do you mind if I join you?"
Assuming Todor is invited to the table he will sit down and also greet Serry. "Good evening to you to miss." Turning back to Elric, "Surely you are headed back to Korvosa as quickly as possible. The caravan with whom I was travelling has decided to not brave the storm. By chance will you be leaving tomorrow to continue on to Korvosa. I desparately miss the city and would return to her as quickly as possible. I have some coin to pay for passage and also can be of assistance."
Todor. The one who like buildings is Todor.
Tristain considers buying another fish, but counts his coins again and decides against it.
I need to get back to Korvosa, my home. I have art to make, sketches to sell.
Tristain sits alone, straining to hear the conversations at other tables.
Serry smiles as Todor greets her. "Pleasure, Mr. Orban," she says. "Serry Brannet. Also from Korvosa, at least when I'm not on shipboard."
As he asks about travel plans, she chuckles. "I was on the same ship. Nobody's going anywhere till this storm breaks and they fix whatever needs fixing. Hopefully that just means one night laid over here, but we'll have to see. The captain seemed willing to take folks on if they knew what they were about -- like our marine friend here."
As the conversation continues, she looks around the room. Her eyes widen a little at Penance's appearance. And I thought sailors had tattoos!
Todor notices Penance at the bar and his numerous tatoos and scars, It's almost like looking at a city landscape, albeit a disturbingly ruined one in need of repair. And those are the kind of repairs I'm no good at. May Abadar look over you as you rejoin his civilization.
Turning to Serry, "I've done my fair share of traveling so I know a little about ships. By no means am I a sailor, but I tend to be useful as I have a knacking for mending things."
The rain continues to fall outside, so hard you can hear it clang against the wooden shutters of the Sleeping Mackerel. It seemingly has a droning effect on Elric, as he sits, sipping his ale completely lost in thought and oblivious to Todor's comments. A crack of lightning followed by thunder makes you feel glad you're inside on this stormy night.
Elric:
Penance:
Serry:
Todor:
Tristain:
With a tilt of the head, Tristain will look around the room to see if others heard what he had.
'twould take but a moment to make sure.
Still carrying his fish head, Tristain will make his way to the front door and open it about 4 inches (enough for a good look), holding the fish bone in his mouth as he uses two hands on the door to combat any rain or wind that may blow the door more open.
Perception
Todor stands up from the table, "Excuse me, but I believe I heard something outside." Addressing Elirc, "I understand this is outside your jurisdiction, but someone might be in need of assistance outside." Todor will head for the door, stop behind Tristain, and also look outside. "You heard something too?"
Perception
Between fishhead-clenched teeth, Tristain whispers, "I would hear more if you would keep it down."
Tristain opens the door a bit wider to allow is less-perceptive door watcher a chance to look and listen better.
Elric nods politely to the halfling and motions for her to join him.
When Todor walks up, he adds. "She has the right of it, I'm afraid. Neither love or gold would get you any faster to Korvosa. The only thing to do that would be to convince Gozreh herself to calm her fury, and that does not seem likely in these faithless times." With that, he returns his attention too his meal and ale.
When Todor alerts him to the possible disturbance outside, he hefts his hammer and moves to the door to peer outside.
Tristain lets the fishbone drop from his mouth and makes his way to his table where his 'scythe lay, letting go of the door.
"There is an armored man outside, injured with bolts, and crawling to us. I could use help with him..."
Tristain walks back to the door with his 'scythe in hand.
"...and whatever else might be out there."
Elric and Todor, who are at the door, see, when the lightning flashes again, the armored humanoid mentioned by Tristain. However, the area turns dark again when the light dissipates.
You suddenly hear, You! At the door, please help! My leg...arrrgh!
Todor will grab a torch or lantern from the doorway if there is one. People should help one another in a civilized society, but it's nothing to be rushed about. Besides, people frequently bring trouble upon themselves. What do I really know about this man? Todor has his hammer on his belt, but the shield is likely left at the table. He will look around again wishing he would have prayed for a light spell today. Perception
Feeling Elric's hand on his shoulder, Todor will halt. "An attack? Here? But, why? However, you do speak sense, sir." And, I'd be no good to that man with a crossbow bolt sticking out of me. Todor pulls out his large hammer and peers into the darkness.
Elric's voice rings out in the crowded commonroom, filled with the authority of a battlehardened veteran.
"Listen up! There's an injured man out there, with crossbow bolts sticking out of him. This man - and I are going out there with to bring him inside. Clear some room and get something to use for bandages. Anyone with a weapon, stay sharp - there may be an attack coming."
Reaching into his pack, Elric hoist out a waterproof lantern and looks around for an open flame to light it with. His practiced eye also seeks potential allies. His gaze halts at Penance.
"You there, with the scars - if you know how to use that bow, get up here and cover us as we move out. Whomever put that bolt in him could be out there waiting for a fresh target."
"If any of you are spellcasters capable of conjuring magical light, now is the time to speak up."
Once his lantern is lit, Elric will secure his hammer on his back, make sure Tristain is ready to move, and go get the fallen man. If Tristain or anyone else move to rush out alone, he will physically urge them to wait with a firm hand on the arm or shoulder.
Penance wordlessly gets himself up from the chair and moves towards the door pulling his bow out from around him.
Seing Todor about to move, Elric holds him back.
"I'd welcome another man by my side out there, friend, but we'd better move carefully, and together. Best take a moment to pick up that shield of yours, but be quick about it."
If there is a light to grab, Todor will hold that. If not, he will grab his shield.
"Mayhaps I will go out alone? We might learn something of our attackers? I need only half as much light as many do. Shine that lantern halfway and I'll get to the man. If they shoot upon me, we will be facing those who can see in the dark."
Tristain breathes deep as if he can't believe those words came from his mouth.
"Todor, if you agree, may I borrow your shield?"
"Todor, if you agree, may I borrow your shield?"
Todor tilts his head slightly as he looks at Tristain. Hmmm. This is unexpected. "By all means. May Abadar keep you safe."
Tristain will attach the borrowed shield to his arm and drop his 'scythe.
Unless Elric stops him, and trusting the Sable Marine to manage the light, Tristain will try to slink to the injured man, hoping the darkness and rain leave his foes blind.
As Tristain sneaks out he will make slinking beeline for the building on the left...inching up the corner of the building/farm/fence(?).
, peering around the corner waiting for a lightning strike to see what he can see down the road, betwixt the buildings, and around
If it looks clear, he will take a good look at the man's injuries from his position and sense if there is anything off.
If that looks clear, he will sneak to the man and try to drag him back to the corner, down the length of the left building/farm/fence(?) before dragging back to the door of the Inn.
Elric holds his lit lantern ready, and gives Tristain a curt nod.
"Be careful out there. Just call out, and we will rush to your aid. I will wait until you are clear of the doorway before I shine the light."
Once Tristain has slipped out the door, Elric will wait a few seconds, then lean out the door and hold up the lantern. He'll call out to the injured man.
"Hold on, help is on the way. Who shot you? Do you know where they are?"
(wow,the one day I'm off the grid and things get exciting!)
Serry will join the others at the door, taking time to pull out a couple of sling bullets and pick up her staff. "It looks like you've got the light situation taken care of for the moment, but if we need the magical sort, I can provide it."
(wow,the one day I'm off the grid and things get exciting!)
Serry will join the others at the door, taking time to pull out a couple of sling bullets and pick up her staff. "It looks like you've got the light situation taken care of for the moment, but if we need the magical sort, I can provide it."
"It would be most appreciated. Feel free to cast it on my hammer." Todor waits to rush out and provide aid if needed.
As Tristain sneaks out he will make slinking beeline for the building on the left...inching up the corner of the building/farm/fence(?).
Tristain goes out into the pouring rain, making sure not to slip in the mud and puddles formed out on the road by the thunderstorm. He stealthily follows the building's fence, though he is covered in pitch black darkness and cannot see anything. Thankfully, then Elric's lantern suddenly lights up the road behind him and Tristain's elven eyes pick up shadows, including the form of the human, a soldier presumably by his garb.
, peering around the corner waiting for a lightning strike to see what he can see down the road, betwixt the buildings, and around. If it looks clear, he will take a good look at the man's injuries from his position and sense if there is anything off.
Though he can't make out details in the shadows, the soldier is slowly crawling, now with more fervor, apparently toward the light source. He remains unaware of Tristain, who is cloaked in the shadows. The figure continues to grip at his knee with his right hand while army crawling with his left. His posture and demeanor seem to indicate his pain is genuine, as Tristain catches some of the soldier's curses and grunts through the pain from his position.
Even through the rain and thunder, Tristain hears from behind him Elric's voice shouting something about "Help" and "Who shot you?", but the soldier seems to not react to the sound.
If that looks clear, he will sneak to the man and try to drag him back to the corner, down the length of the left building/farm/fence(?) before dragging back to the door of the Inn.
Tristain hears, Quickly, stranger, there are mercenaries on my trai... The guard's sentence is cut short, as a bolt suddenly whizzes past Tristain's head, shot from the north. As the druid looks up, another bolt slams into his shoulder, penetrating the folds of his leather armor, and puncturing his flesh, quite painfully, and embedding itself quite deeply.
Tristain:
Elric:
Todor:
Serry:
Penance:
(It's unclear to me whether throwing something (not as an attack) counts as a move action, though it feels like it should. If I'm wrong, I'll redo.)
Serry will cast Light on one of her sling bullets, and then throw it as far as she can toward the north, hoping to reveal where the attacker might be.
Serry intones her magic and then throws her 1/2 pound bullet and it travels 45' with the wind and rain, lighting up the area, so much so that you can now see the shadowy form of the soldier.
Updated Map for all except Tristain
Round 1 - Assuming things don't change much.
Todor wishes he had kept his shield, but resigns himself to his fate. We try to fight the inevitable, but it never works. Todor will go to G,15 and channel.
Round 1
Elric gives Serry a brief look of approval. At least one of these civilians have some sense of tactics.
Cover me! He shouts, and rushes out the door towards Tristain and the fallen soldier. Halfway there, he drops his lantern, knowing that the light source makes him an inviting target.
Once he reaches the injured duo, he immediately drops prone. Get down! he hollers to Tristain and scans the darkness for signs of the attackers.
As Serry's bullet lights up the area behind him, Tristain uses his elven sight to peer into the shadows.
Low-light vision Map
The rain continues to pour heavily.
Tristain looks at his attackers, while feeling the bite of the bolt.
Knowledge (local) to identify them
I can't make them out in the darkness.
"Marine, there are 3 "men" with crossbows 40' that way." Tristain will tug on Elrics shirt to give him direction.
Tristain will drag the man to G17, trying to get some cover from the fence.
HP: 7/9 (after the healing from Todor)
AC: 17 (thanks for the shield)
Spells: all uncast
Effects: nil
Through the rain, Elric sees three humanoid figures emerge from the darkness, visible only among the shadows. The first two draw longswords as they approach him, their crossbows dangling by their straps around their neck, and bucklers strapped to their forearms. A third figure also appears, clutching a crossbow in his hands. The three humanoids consciously stay out of the range of the bullet emanating light. Elric hears the figues talk to each other in some unknown guttural language, as they look down on him, ready to strike. The rest of the party sees the silhouetted figures as well, except Tristain, who has no line of sight to them.
Penance moves forward heedless of the wind and rain firing a passing shot without much hope of it hitting. These were far from ideal conditions for a firefight. But perhaps if more light could be brought to bear...
Fire on the one closest, should be in Point blank shot range subtract one from attack and damage if this is not the case.
Attack
Damage
As usual, the roar of the waves begins to fill Serry's ears as the fight begins. She calls out toward Tristain, without quite realizing how it's going to come out:
Then she'll step forward , load a bullet into her sling staff, and aim at the one with the crossbow in F8 .
Attack
Damage
By the gods! screams the soldier, as he stares up Todor. You still have the gift..you are one of the Chosen! Bolstered by the cleric’s healing and despite the excruciating pain, the soldier pulls out the bolt from his knee.
On his turn, Tristain will continue to drag the man to the inn.
Double drag to the inn.
"Almost there man, we'll get you inside and then worry about your assailants. Do you have a name, friend? Why are those 'men' after you?"
Round 2
Todor waits to see if Elric is fighting or withdrawing. If he fights, Todor will move up to assist. He'll move to G9-avoiding the AoO- and swing with his hammer.
Damage
Otherwise he'll withdraw to the inn with Elric.
Cursing himself for underestimating how quickly the attackers could move in, Elric pauses for just a few moments in the mud, trying to figure out how to avoid getting cut to pieces.
The Todor comes rushing out of the rain, hammer flashing at one of the humanoids. Elric seizes the moment, and twists his right forearm. A dagger appears in his hand . From his low position in the mud he slashes up at the other attacker with all his might.