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Our adventure begins in the town of Phaendar, nestled along the southern bank of the Marideth River, a stone’s throw from the Southern Fangwood Forest. Trade comes through the town over Phaendar Bridge, the only suitable place to traverse the swif, rapid-coursed river for 50 miles in either direction. The town of 400 residents rarely sees any excitement, making the Market Festival a major source of news, entertainment, and revenue.
The 2-day affair, held once every 3 months, gathers farmers and herders from across the Nesmian Plains, as well as woodcutters from the nearby Fangwood and prospectors from the Hollow Hills, to trade for supplies and raw materials. Even traders from the “big city” of Tamran make their way to the event, swelling the town’s population to half again its normal size.
This is the first day of the spring Market Festival, held on the first Sunday and Moonday in Gozran, in the year of 4634 AR. For your various reasons, each one of you has made your way to Phaendar for the Festival
Elaheil looks about the market with a curious yet slightly offended air.
Looking down on his mud covered boots he takes a moment, closes his eyes for a moment to regain his composure
With a calmer demeanor and a commitment to try and have an open mind, Elaheil continues to look about the market taking special interest in any stalls featuring armor smiths of some talent.
Speaks-With-Dead takes interest in any jewelers in the town, in search of more onyx gems. He also takes interest in clothing or blanket merchants in search of something he could use to potentially disguise any undead he would create so they could travel more freely and without the baser species' prejudice to his craft.
Khurdan turns over his tribes wares to be sold first thing in the morning and feels uneasy at the growing crowds of unfamiliar people. He climbs a building to get a moment's peace and watch the people as they go about the festival. Around lunch, his inspections and his stomach convince him the new people might not be so terrible, and he goes in search of new flavors only here for the festival. Afterwards he will seek out weaponsmiths to gain new knowledge, ideas, or anything else he can understand well enough to bring home.
Satch feels at home weaving through the bustling crowds. Slapping away any unwanted hands trying to find their way into loose pockets, he makes his way to a local jeweler. As he approaches he notices a tengu stalking away, the smell of rotten flesh seems to whisk away with him. "Maybe they really do eat rotting meat" he thinks as he pawns off a stolen broach from 2 cities over.
After selling small various goods attained from unjust rich he settles down with a large roll of fresh bread and a mug of mulled wine on a taverns porch.
Elaheil looks about the market with a curious yet slightly offended air.
Looking down on his mud covered boots he takes a moment, closes his eyes for a moment to regain his composure
With a calmer demeanor and a commitment to try and have an open mind, Elaheil continues to look about the market taking special interest in any stalls featuring armor smiths of some talent.
Elaheil finds only one smith worth mention, the Phaendar Trading Company, owned and operated by a female dwarf named Kinning Blondebeard. The trading post sells a wide assortment of mundane equipment, and Kinning is often found working the smithy. She is a cantankerous and foul-mouthed woman, but the other folks there in town seem to find it endearing in her.
There are a few other vendors from off that are displaying some armor for sale, but nothing of note.
Speaks-With-Dead takes interest in any jewelers in the town, in search of more onyx gems. He also takes interest in clothing or blanket merchants in search of something he could use to potentially disguise any undead he would create so they could travel more freely and without the baser species' prejudice to his craft.
There are several vendors of cloth and clothing articles. If you wish to purchase cloaks there are many styles available, ranging from simple to finely made of rich cloth.
There are a few vendors that might have onyx gems. What values of gems are you seeking?
Khurdan turns over his tribes wares to be sold first thing in the morning and feels uneasy at the growing crowds of unfamiliar people. He climbs a building to get a moment's peace and watch the people as they go about the festival. Around lunch, his inspections and his stomach convince him the new people might not be so terrible, and he goes in search of new flavors only here for the festival. Afterwards he will seek out weaponsmiths to gain new knowledge, ideas, or anything else he can understand well enough to bring home.
There are myriad interesting smells and flavors to enjoy. You find the same Phaendar Trading Company as the best of the options for weapons. Kinning, however, does not seem interested in smithing as a spectator event. She is rough and fairly tactless, and tells you, "If you are not interested in purchasing, kindly do not linger and try to steal the secrets of my people."
Satch feels at home weaving through the bustling crowds. Slapping away any unwanted hands trying to find their way into loose pockets, he makes his way to a local jeweler. As he approaches he notices a tengu stalking away, the smell of rotten flesh seems to whisk away with him. "Maybe they really do eat rotting meat" he thinks as he pawns off a stolen broach from 2 cities over.
After selling small various goods attained from unjust rich he settles down with a large roll of fresh bread and a mug of mulled wine on a taverns porch.
You pass a comfortable afternoon listening to skilled bards and harpers playing inside.
After enjoying songs of various bards Satch tries to find the most interesting of the group and strike up a conversation in hopes of prodding for information on the local nobility.
There are several vendors of cloth and clothing articles. If you wish to purchase cloaks there are many styles available, ranging from simple to finely made of rich cloth.
There are a few vendors that might have onyx gems. What values of gems are you seeking?
In terms of clothing, Speaks-With-Dead is interested in only items worth nothing more than a few copper or silver, something akin to what a sickly old beggar would wear.
And for the gems, he is interested in mostly Onyx,worth around 50gp or so. However, he would also take interest in any topaz or turquoise gems, but these are little more than fractions of an idea for a later date as his current financial status does not permit such extravagance quite yet.
There are several vendors of cloth and clothing articles. If you wish to purchase cloaks there are many styles available, ranging from simple to finely made of rich cloth.
There are a few vendors that might have onyx gems. What values of gems are you seeking?
In terms of clothing, Speaks-With-Dead is interested in only items worth nothing more than a few copper or silver, something akin to what a sickly old beggar would wear.
And for the gems, he is interested in mostly Onyx,worth around 50gp or so. However, he would also take interest in any topaz or turquoise gems, but these are little more than fractions of an idea for a later date as his current financial status does not permit such extravagance quite yet.
So as the day wears on, you all find yourselves in search of a place to take an evening meal and hear a bit of entertainment. Several people have recommended the Taproot Inn for both, as well as for a safe and comfortable place to pass the evening. "Plus, if you are lucky," they say, "you might get a chance to hear Aubrin the Green tell a tale or two."
Phaendar’s Market Festival draws a crowd from all over Nirmathas, many solely to hear Aubrin the Green—the retired Chernasardo Ranger-turned-Caydenite cleric—recount bawdy tales of adventure from her youth. Outside, the celebration continues, as raucous shouts carry on the night air.
Warmed by the firelight after a long day, any levity comes as a welcome reward to the rough, earthy souls of this riverside trade town. Aubrin the Green has found an eager audience at The Taproot, and is going strong. “So there I am, thinking, when will I ever be able to talk to a bear again? So before the grizzly can stand back up, I turn to it and say, ‘All I need is the honey. You can keep the bees!’”
The room erupts into laughter as Aubrin finishes her winding story and takes another draught from her tankard. “But it’s fine now. All’s good. She named a cub after me. Someday I’m going to have to check in on little Ow Oh Gods That’s Too Many Bees.”
Crowd members share their own boasts and jokes, but eventually someone tops off Aubrin’s tankard and pushes her back into the center of the room. “All right, all right! Don’t shove,” she slurs a bit with the effects of the drinks that have been given to her, “Okay, Cayden strike me down if this isn’t true—“
Whatever she was about to say is lost as the front door explodes into flinders. A cry of agony pierces the chaos. Aubrin lies on the floor, gasping and clutching at the blood gushing from a wound in her chest. A ballista bolt still quivers in the wall behind her. Two hobgoblins in military dress stand beyond the shattered door, blades drawn.
Behind them, lit by the glow of burning homes, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of hobgoblin soldiers march the street. Phaendar burns, shouts of celebration now replaced by the panicked screams of the frightened and dying.
Behind them, above the flames and humble rooftops, rises a tower of black stone.
The other patrons of The Taproot are stunned and stare in shock. At best they scramble away from the bugbears. It looks like if there is something to be done, it is up to you!
Round 1
Initiative:
Khurdan: 15+
Bugbears: 15-
Elaheil: 12
Satch: 10
Speaks-with-Crows: 9
Satch
Khurdan
Speaks-With-Crows
BB
Being able to lose himself in the outlandish tales from afar during visits to the Taproot Inn is the main reason Khurdan subjects himself to the hustle and bustle of Phaendar during Market Festival. To have such a... a disturbance during the highlight of the Festival? Khurdan regrets ever volunteering to come to market for his tribe.
Concerned that dispatching these two would complicate his escape to the Fangwood by drawing the attention of the many more marching passed, Khurdan desperately seeks answers.
Seeking answers in the smallest details of their words, equipment, facial expressions... anything he can lay his eyes on, Khurdan slowly moves towards an exit, hoping to surreptitiously gain both elevation and more information about this threat. That is a LOT of soldiers!
Sneak: .
Sense Motive: . (if appropriate)
Round 1 - First Half:
The unusual anthropomorphic frog person glances around nervously. Realizing that he would have to pass very close to the hobgoblins to get to either the stairs or the door, he dismisses those as viable options. Though he is not familiar with the layout of the non-public areas of the tavern, he makes the assumption that it must have another entrance in the back and sidles toward the door behind the bar, unseen by the hobgoblins.
The two hobgoblins snarl in thickly accented common, brandishing their weapons menacingly, "All surrrrender! Do not Move! No fight, no die! You all prizonnners now!" They seem to be poised to act, but are not yet doing anything else.
Initiative:
Khurdan: 15+
Bugbears: 15-
Elaheil: 12
Satch: 10
Speaks-with-Crows: 9
Speaks-With-Dead glares as he draws his bow and speaks in goblin.
"I would rather die free than be enslaved to you, filth."
For a moment Elaheil seems taken aback at the words from the walking crow who smells like death. He tries to determine if he was reffering to the fellow tavern goers or to the hobgoblins that just came through the door Unable to be sure he says "We are filth?!?" with a note of disbelief. He then says to everyone, "Regardless, we must band together if we are to survive and remain free, do not run...Fight with ME!!"
While moving across the room with uncanny grace tumbling around and over tables that are in the way drawing his large curved sword as he goes, he quickly moves into a position so as to protect Aubrin and hopefully set up for some flanking attacks later on. .
Once in position, he sets into a defensive position and attacks
Satch surveys the room sliding off the back of his stool. He looks to the elf screaming into the room and watches him slam into the beast.
Satch slinks to the beast for a sneak attack
{dice=Stealth Check]1d20+12[/dice}
Once behind
Satch makes a 2 weapon attack on the beast
Satch surveys the room sliding off the back of his stool. He looks to the elf screaming into the room and watches him slam into the beast.
Satch slinks to the beast for a sneak attack
{dice=Stealth Check]1d20+12[/dice}
Once behind
Satch makes a 2 weapon attack on the beast
[dice=Short Sword Attack]1d20-2
[dice= Dagger Attack ]1d20-2
[dice=Short Sword Damage]1d4
[dice=Dagger Damage]1d3
Round 1 - Final
Elaheil calls for everyone to join in the fight against the hobgoblins, "..we must band together if we are to survive and remain free, do not run...Fight with ME!!" Moving with the legendary grace of the elves, he swiftly closes with the hobgoblins and cuts into the one by the stairs with ease.
The hobgoblins both roar with outrage, The one the elf sliced steps forward to isolate the upstart elf. A quick ringing exchange leaves the elf unscathed and the hobgoblins nearly apoplectic with rage.
With the wounded hobgoblin presenting a perfect target, Satch swiftly closes in and cuts the creature from behind.
Speaking a few words in a gutteral language, the strange bird-like creature nocks an arrow and fires at the hobgoblins, only to have his shot go wide.
Initiative:
Khurdan: 15
Elaheil: 12+
Bugbears: 12-
Satch: 10
Speaks-with-Crows: 9
2
Round 2 - Go!
Elaheil sees Satch join the fight and trusts that he will be able to finish off the hobgoblin that he hit switching targets to the unhurt hobgoblin. Emboldened by the assistance and trying to keep the focus on him he cries out
Elaheil sees Satch join the fight and trusts that he will be able to finish off the hobgoblin that he hit switching targets to the unhurt hobgoblin. Emboldened by the assistance and trying to keep the focus on him he cries out
** spoiler omitted **
Emboldened by the swiftness with which the other tavern goers are laying into the hobgoblins, Khurdan changes his mind about being stealthy and moves to help dispatch the hobgoblins. Keeping a wary eye out the door at the army moving passed, khurdan quickly moves through the throng towards the most wounded one, hoping the surviving one will be too busy not dying to raise an alarm.
Round 2 - First Half
Seeing that he would not stand alone, Khurdan turns on the hobgoblins. Making his way swiftly back through the common room to attack the injured hobgoblin, he finds the hobgoblin well-prepared for his attack and is unable to land a strike.
Elaheil leaves the injured hobgoblin to the tender mercies of Satch, and attacks the uninjured foe. As if the hobgoblin and the elf were both seeking the same goal, the hobgoblin leaves an opening, and Eleheil makes a perfect, slashing strike and the hobgoblins head rolls free of its shoulders. The body stands for several seconds before crumpling to the floor.
With a snarl, the last hobgoblin tries to cut Eleheil down, but in its rage it misses its wild swing, not even coming close to the elf.
Initiative:
Khurdan: 15
Elaheil: 12+
Bugbears: 12-
Satch: 10
Speaks-with-Crows: 9
Satch ducks out of the way of the wide attack to the elf and stabs under the hobgoblins armpit.
Round 2 - Final:
Satch stabs his dagger up under the hobgoblins arm pit, and his shortsword skewers through the beast's kidney. It stiffens in agony before dropping limply to the floor.
Combat is over!
For the moment it seems that the hobgoblins are ignoring the events in the Taproon Inn.
The other patrons of the Taproot cheer and exclaim in relief, but there is still fear and not a little despair in their voice as what can only be described as a hobgoblin army tramps past the inn. Calls of, "What do we do now," "Who are they," and "What do they want," are, perhaps, the loudest of all. But others ask after Aubrin, fearful that she was slain; she is, after all, laying very still and in a spreading pool of blood...
Looking back at the Ballista bolt pinning Aubrin to the wall then to those remaining. "My name is Elaheil Ambara, I am trained in the art of medicine, quickly someone watch the door and the rest of you, I need clean rags, water and any clear liquor. If anyone in the room has healing magic that will help as well."
Elaheil quickly but carefully removes the bolt and rapidly begins binding the wound.
Speaks-With-Dead answers "I have access to some limited healing magic. It's not much, but it will help."
After he sees Aubrin being attended further by Elaheil, the cloaked Tengu will move towards the two dead Hobgoblins. He glances at the decapitated one and mutters through a frown.
"No, no, no. This one won't do at all."
He moves to the more intact corpse and smirks. "Well. Certainly not the best specimen, but he'll have to do."
He pulls a small black gem out of his spell component pouch and presses it firmly into the Hobgoblin's eye socket before standing upright and chants in a low, whispery language for a few seconds, rhythmically moving his hands as he does so. The corpse of the Hobgoblin begins to rise, and as it does its flesh sloughs off, leaving nothing but clean ivory and a singular, glowing onyx gem in the right eye socket. It picks it's weapon up off the ground and stands eerily still, it's head pointed at Speaks-With-Dead.
Speaks-With-Dead answers "I have access to some limited healing magic. It's not much, but it will help."
After he sees Aubrin being attended further by Elaheil, the cloaked Tengu will move towards the two dead Hobgoblins. He glances at the decapitated one and mutters through a frown.
"No, no, no. This one won't do at all."
He moves to the more intact corpse and smirks. "Well. Certainly not the best specimen, but he'll have to do."
He pulls a small black gem out of his spell component pouch and presses it firmly into the Hobgoblin's eye socket before standing upright and chants in a low, whispery language for a few seconds, rhythmically moving his hands as he does so. The corpse of the Hobgoblin begins to rise, and as it does its flesh sloughs off, leaving nothing but clean ivory and a singular, glowing onyx gem in the right eye socket. It picks it's weapon up off the ground and stands eerily still, it's head pointed at Speaks-With-Dead.
Elaheil nods his thanks for the assistance and begins to try and organize. "Given how overrun the town seems to be it is unlikely that we will remain unnoticed for long. I think our best bet is to gather together and make our way out of town to regroup. Gather what you can quickly. Does anyone know of somewhere we can go that is out of the way and somewhat hidden nearby?"
While Elahiel is gathering some rations together he overhears the chant of magic the likes of which makes his hair stand on end. Instinctivly he draws his sword once again expecting to face a new foe only to find the strange bird like man who just healed Aubrin working magic that is generally forbidden. Appalled but conflicted Elaheil hesitates, "This is unholy magic, the like of which leads to and venerates death itself and stands in conflict to those that choose life. Were this my home and if we were not beset by such foes I would be required to report you to the authorities. However, this is neither the time nor the place. Out of respect for your warrior spirit, your divine aid, and the fact that this is not my home, I will not interfere with what you are doing but let it be known that I do not approve nor will I ever support you working such magic on me or any of my allies. For the time being, let us move on."
Elaheil then makes a point to make a quick search for anything magical that might aid them (like potions etc.) or anything mundane that might be especially helpful (detect magic).
Speaks-With-Dead smirks amusedly. "Hmmph. 'Unholy'. Therein lies the problem with your way of thinking. But i'd hardly expect an Elf to understand. But this is a matter for another time. For now, just be grateful for the additional assistance."
He takes a brief pause before lowering his head slightly and glaring at Elaheil.
"The only ones at risk of being subject to my magics are my enemies. See to it we remain allies and no necromantic essences will harm your perfect Elven features or corrupt your all-encompassing superior way of life. Let us proceed with saving this town."
Khurdan is visibly aghast at the skeleton. This is so much worse than hobgoblins!!
How can we few," he gestures weakly in the general direction of the others who helped defend the tavern, "hope to defend the entire town against such numbers? I... I know a place, a safe place. My tribe, we, um..." Khurdan stammers, losing his train of thought in the inky blackness of the skeleton' s soulless eye.
He tries to refocus on the conversation at hand. What will the elder think?? "Welineintheforestaboutthreedaysouutoftown" Khurdan quickly croaks out.
While tearing his eyes away from the undead just STANDING there, he takes a deep breath to collect his thoughts and continue, wildly seeking support for a plan of fleeing far away in the eyes of any who are looking at him. Any except the skeleton and the birdman who brought him to... Khurdan's face betrays his thoughts. And the birdman who brought him.
Gulping and making a visible effort to move on, Khurdan continues, "I am certain this number of people will not be welcomed for long, nor is it very close. But it is safe, and it is not HERE, here with these..." He gestures and almost looks towards the door, before remembering what else is there. "I, I don't know if EVERYone will be welcomed, though..." Khurdan trails off, finishing with a pained expression verging on panic as he turns, his eyes pleading with the birdman as he focuses on the birdman and only the birdman.
If conscious, Speaks-With-Dead will turn to Aubrin and ask "Aubrin, you've traveled these woods extensively, yes? Is there anywhere safe we could take these people, or anyone nearby we could ask for assistance in drying this green tide?"
Speaks-With-Dead will then address everyone in the tavern.
"Alright everyone listen up. It is clear this town is not as safe as anyone thought. And while we four" He gestures towards Satch, Khurdan, and Elaheil."Can easily dispatch of a few hobgoblins, we cannot hope to stand against the sheer number outside. I believe our best bet would be to make ourselves scarce and lose ourselves in the wild. Once we establish a camp somewhere hidden, we can determine our next step."
"You two, the amphibian and the wanderling, keep watch of our wounded friend and the door. I and the Elf will look for a back entrance and see if it is free of green so that we can move these people to saftey. Alert us if any more enemies arrive."
He will then turn and, in the same whispery tongue, instruct the skeleton to defend the tavern from any hobgoblins that may enter.
Many of the patrons look towards the door when the elf kneels beside the dying woman where she lay on the floor. Elaheil can immediately tell that she had very little time left to live. Between his deft hands and the swift use of magic by the cloaked tengu, the bleeding stops and the wound at least partially closes. It is easy to tell that she will be in no condition to move fast or fight any time soon.
As Speaks-With-Dead raises the hobgoblin's skeleton, there are cries of dismay, fear, terror, and in a few cases, outrage.
"Abomination!"
"This is so much worse..."
"Doomed..."
"Get out!"
The Elaheil and Rip't are both clearly uncomfortable with the undead thing and its summoner and the patrons of the inn are suddenly set against the tengu. His flat bird-eyes flick around the room calmly until a thready voice from the floor seals the situation. Aubrin's voice is thin and weak, but full of conviction, "Take your violation of every natural law and go from this place. We will have nothing to do with such as that."
Speaks-With-Dead glances down at her for a moment before speaking, "Very well. I leave you to your fate." He turns and departs with the skeleton close on his heels.
There is a dead silence for a few moments, then everyone beings speaking at once. The chaos persists for a few moments until a few shout the others down as Aubrin is clearly trying to speak. Once a relative quiet falls again she continues, speaking to Rip't and Eliheim, "Thank you both; you surely save my life and those of all here. It... it sounds like there’s an army outside the door. How did they fall on us without being seen? These damn plains are so flat you can see an elk from two days off, let alone an army!" She winces and presses her hands against the bloody hole in her chest before continuing, "They sound large. Too large to fight on the ground like honest fools. We need to gather what we can, cross the bridge, and hide out in the Fangwood. I—I know a few secrets that may keep us safe. Should probably figure out how to take down the bridge while we’re at it, else they’ll just march themselves across before we have the chance to hide."
The hobgoblins already carry the spoils of some looting: a masterwork backpack stuffed with a heavy crossbow (with 20 bolts and 10 masterwork bolts); eight clearly labeled potions of guidance; a short, round length of wood ; a rolled piece of parchment in a small leather tube ; and dried goat meat, sheep’s cheese, and a jug of sheep’s milk.
While examining the bodies, or what is left of them, you find that they are clearly dressed in a military uniform and wear an insignia on the shoulder.
As Speaks with Dead turns to exit, Eliheil stops him for a moment. With sincerity he says "Your actions and your bravery prove you to be an honorable and good person. I have studied many forms of magic and time and again, history has proven that people who practice this form of magic eventually fall to the corrupting influence of the negative energy that fuels such magic. I wish you well and that you will find those who can accept you as you are but I hope that you will find another way than continuing the use of such dark rituals. Be well and may your find you harmony." With an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder Elaheil releases him and watches him depart.
Turning back to the matter at hand, Elaheil quickly gathers the various items. Handing some of them to still able bodied tavern goers, he stuffs the arrows into his quiver, then quickly transfers his items into the master worked backpack along with the potions, the stick that looks like a wand, the parchment, the leather tube and as much of the provisions he can carry. The remainder he puts into his original backpack and hands it to someone in the bar that looks strong. Last, He cuts one of the insignia from the uniform for later identification and directs the remaining by-standards to help Aubrin make her way.
"quickly, someone grab as much oil or liquor as you can carry, we can burn the bridge down with it. I know not of any other way at my disposal."
Turning to Khurdan, I agree, we must depart. Let us stick together and we may yet survive. Will you stay with us for now and follow Aubrin's guidance until we have reached safety at least? If so, and if you can fight then I would ask that you lead the group across the bridge. I will defend the rear.
Swiftly dressing once more and donning your armor, you snatch up your weapons and alchemy supplies and make your way to the top of the stairs. Below, you see an elf inspecting the bodies of at least one hobgoblin; that pile of churned flesh might be only one other. He gathers several useful items from the corpses and begins issuing orders and organizing the patrons of the Taproot to leave the town.
Vindu enters the room quickly, speaking softly, but not without concern.
"Aubrin, my friend, what has happen to you?"
He kneels beside her and helps her to her feet, her arm draped across his shoulder. He then turns to address the elf, who seems to be the one trying to take charge from what Vindu overheard.
"My name is Vindu the Chainbreaker. Aubrin and these people can vouch that I am a friend, and I will help in any way I am able to keep these people safe. I was in another part of town when the army attacked and I am sorry I was not here sooner to prevent this. I was able to sneak my way hear, but I cannot promise the route is still clear of enemies, but we should be able to sneak these people across or under the bridge, then destroy it. I know these forests well and would be glad to lead everyone through to safety once we reach the Fangwood."
Elaheil nods to Vindu in thanks, "Your aid is welcome, will you take the lead along side our amphibian friend here? I did not cross the bridge you speak of when I came into town as I entered from the other direction. Aubrin says we need to destroy it after crossing, is it made of wood and if not, do you know how we might destroy it?"
Aubrin coughs a little as she is helped to her feet and her voice is quiet, if pain-tightened, but she does offer a weak smile, "Well, Vindu, my old friend, someone shot a balista bolt through my chest. All things considered, I am doing rather well."
She glances toward the door, [b]"Yes, you have the right of it, Elaheil, the town is lost. But we must try to save as many as we can. Also, the bridge is made of stone, so something more .. destructive .. than mere fire will be needed. Oreld's shop or the Trading Company may have something useful to that end as well as being a likely place to find those we may free from their captors."
Aubrin pauses for a moment, as though so much talking is painful for her, then continues, "The Riverwood Shrine may also be worth a visit if we can. If either Nolean or Rhyna remain there, they would both be very helpful in the Fangwood."
After another pause, she shakes her head sadly, "I doubt that we will have time to visit more than those few places, but we must take down the bridge or be caught or killed, and it would be good to save as many from Phaendar as we can. Perhaps in the confusion we will be overlooked."
Elaheil listens intently "Very well, we shall do as you say. I know not the layout of the town nor of where these locations are. Vindu was it? You seem to be familiar with this town, please choose the closest location that Aubrin indicated and lead us on. I will defend the rear as we progress.
Aubrin nods in agreement, "Before we leave, we should grab what we can that may be useful. Jet, can you organize these others to bring what stores you can?"
A beautiful, buxom human woman of obvious mixed Shoanti and Varisian heritage nods agreement and, with the help of a few others gathers some essentials from the kitchen. She also stops behind the bar and taks a small locked box off the shelf. From it she extracts two thin wands and offers them to the group. They are a wand of grease (5 charges) and a wand of prestidigitation (31 charges). She tucks two vials and a set of juggling balls into her sash and looks around at the others, "Wait, there are two traders in their rooms upstairs, I think. I do not remember seeing them go out. They seemed a bit overwhelmed by the festival if you ask me. We probably should not stay much longer, but do we want to take them with us?"
As if to punctuate her question, the sounds of a very brief scuffle close by draw your eyes to the doorway. A human-looking individual retreats into the doorway of the Taproot from around the corner pursued by a hobgoblin. Just before stepping inside, he makes a swift and complicated series of strikes with his bare hands and the hobgoblin falls to the ground, unmoving. When the survivor turns to look at the rest of you, you take note of his small horns and the tail flicking back and forth. A deeply-lined scowl marks his face.
Vindu greets the new arrival very quickly. "Hello, we were just leaving, interested in coming with?"
He then walks towards the stairs, talking over his shoulder. "I intend to save as many people as possible so I will wake the traders upstairs along with anybody else I find. I will do my best to get them up to speed quickly. If you could do the same for the newcomer that would be excellent"
Vindu will then bound up the stairs, 2 at a time.