I drop my shield beside the barrel as I try to get up on the roof for a better vantage point.
Okay, I'm never using that dice roller again...kicks the barrel
Brenin stands on a barrel and tries to jump to a handhold along the eaves. Of course they crumble in his hands, sending the ranger to a wrenching fall into rubbish. Suppressed giggles come from a pair of street scamps hiding in the trash on the other side of the road.
Badeye is clearly tempted to swing at Lia's darting form, but his discipline overrules and he focuses on the likelier melee threat, Trystan. His first real swing underestimates smaller man's quickness and misses cleanly. Still, you get a clear impression of the harm that weapon's likely to do if it hits someone.
Gars does not apparently track Isegrim rounding the corner. He reloads his crossbow and takes aim for Lia, despite the cover she receives. His bolt thwacks loudly into a ramshackle box that spills refuse into Badeye's fighting space. The half orc growls.
"Mind your aim boy or I'll gut you when I'm done with these!"
The thug at (15,12) takes advantage of the half-orc's battlefield presence to land a painful jab at Trystan's hip. Trystan can feel warm blood flowing freely down his side.
The second thug is not so lucky with his half-hearted swipe at the witch.
Two things actually. First, among the trash you've so gracefully scattered into the street you see a slashed green cloak with ominous and relatively fresh bloodstains on it. Second, you hear someone fiddling with locks and chains at the backdoor of the moneylender's house - on the inside.
"Sonofab!tch!" Do I recognize the cloak as Larur's?
While Brenin fiddles with his sword in the back....
Lia tries to flank Badeye to give the good half brother a fighting chance.
Brenin, it certainly could be. It looks like one he wore alot.
Badeye must have been keeping his good eye out, because he spots Lia darting along the wall and connects with a back-handed swipe of his ugly weapon.
I move behind Trystan to give myself some room.(12,17) Hey Badeye, don't you think you could use that muscle for something better... i start waving my hands around both casting my spell and trying to draw his attention to me.
Lia buries her blade into Badeye's shoulder, causing him to twist away in pain. Rees's malignant red ray strikes him in the chest, draining away his strength.
Having heard his friends call out, and seeing the man in (7,14) with crossbow in-hand, a primal protective instinct takes over Isegrim and he charges directly at the attacker.
Attack
Damage
Gars spots the charging fighter and times a duck that saves his life.
Trystan reaches back to feel his wound and realizes he is protecting Rees. He hastily casts bless on himself and the girls.
"If we can just get the orc-kin down, the tide will turn" he thinks to himself.
He chooses to ignore his attacker and instead seizes the opportunity to strike Badeye from a flank.
As I move into place, I give the vagabonds across the way a look to let them know they should move on.
As I move into place, I give the vagabonds across the way a look to let them know they should move on.
Trystan finds a crease in the reinforced leather breastplate, wetting the first two-inches of his blade. The half-orc is battle-mad at this point and is evidently going to fight to the death.
Around back, Brenin doesn't have long to wait. The last chain is released and the back door swings open. A heavy set man in a greasy brown coat and hat backs out the door and fumbles with a key ring.
Irate at the fact that Larur has probably been murdered and his companions are being attacked out front, Brenin doesn't hesitate to run the man through...innocent or guilty, death is coming.
"Thanks for opening the door friend."
Brenin's stab is partly turned by leather armor concealed under the cloak. The man curses in pain as the ranger's weapon bites into his ribs. He drops his keys and some books he was carrying and backs away (into the street). He draws a scimitar of his own.
Gars shies away from the menacing fighter, discarding his crossbow in the process. He draws a short sword. "Badeye!" he calls in partial panic.
The half-orc doesn't seem to be in the mood to take orders, though. He slides away from the thief at his back and aims another killer blow at our good bartender. Trystan is able to dodge the blow from the half-orc, but is hit again by a thug at his back. Trystan loses consciousness.
The second thug tries to cover Badeye's 'blind-side' by attacking Lia. His clumsy attack misses.
Lia panics. "Isegrim," she yells to the big fighter, "help!" She is afraid for Trystan and ignores the human to pummel the half-orc.
Feeling helpless and pissed, I look down at Trystan and whisper hang on Tryst, we will get you out of this.
With all the rightousness I can gather I whip my head around to the orc and stare him down with my glowing eyes, "your going to pay for this".
Isegrim turns and sees the thug sliding his sword from Trystan's limp form. His vision seems to take on a red tint.. everything blurring except for his chosen target of revenge. His pack-brother has been harmed.. blood must flow. With a swiftness belied by his bulk, Isegrim charges to (15,11) and takes the mightiest of swings..whether to save or to avenge, the purpose is the same.. to remove head from shoulder, limb from torso, heart from chest.
For all the fury, the great blade whistles past the thug's ear.
I move into the room and kick the door shut behind me. If there's a bar or something that prevents it from being opened from the outside I engage it.
The man in the coat passes up a chance to attack Brenin, turns tail and hauls up the street. The back door to the room slams shut and the bar falls by itself. Brenin has dashed into a dilapidated sitting room. There's a table against one wall with coins stacked in neat little piles.
A rickety wood stair with a closet underneath goes up to a second floor. The door in front of Brenin is open with a small office beyond.
Badeye wheels to face the new danger from Isegrim. The morning star comes crashing down with such force that Isegrim's only able to partially turn the blow. A long gash is opened on the fighter's arm and blood drips freely from his elbow as he fights.
Gars trails Isegrim into the melee reluctantly.
Lia's opponent also fails to land a blow on the elusive rogue.
Lia flanks Badeye. She is seriously pissed off now. "Run home, Gars. Daddy-dearest will be angry at you for drawing this much attention to yourself!" She aims for the half-orc's large back.
After her rapier pulls out of the orc, Lia continues to berate Gars. She truly hates him, but is hoping he's cowardly enough to run away.
Lia stabs the meaty beast in the back again, and still he spins and dodges through the frenzy of attacks.
Still seeething, I aim my yellow eyes at his nether regions thinking of minimizing his attack and his manhood. I scream "leave now Badeye or your manhood will never stand true again."
Stablize
Stabilize
With a frustrated snarl Isegrim turns the Raven Blade for another wicked slash at the ugly bastard who has just stepped to him (Badeye)
Isegrim's deadly cut lifts Badeye's ugly head from his shoulders. The burly body collapses in a shower of blood.
Covered in blood, Isegrim continues his slash towards the chest of the thug who felled his friend..