She raises her eyebrow at the armiger. I made the mistake once of growing too close to a human, it is not one that I will deign to make again.
Antonio pouts. "I'm not a human. I'm a legend." He goes over and rummages through Kezoredos's drinks selection looking for something that might help him take the edge off and prepare himself for the dangerous passage ahead.
IF only in your own mind she replies.
Kezoredos listens to the banter and raises his head when the words teleport and Ratik are mentioned.
"I did receive a raven a while back saying someone needed a port to Ratik as a favor."
"Yes you dolt that would be them. I told you this when they approached." the rude voice says.
"Well then porting is one of my specialties... along with my flower garden... the envy of all around... if i ever let anyone see it."
"They dont care to see the flower garden. I am sure they have no time." the rude voice says again
"I did not ask them to see it but now that you mention it if they did have the time when they come back then maybe they can see it."
the older man tilts his head left and then right for a bit as if having an internal conversation.
"Well then let us get you going. Bring all that requires transport out back down the path." the friendlier voice says.
I would be interested in your garden when we return replies the elf.
"I would love to see your garden actually... but after our business concludes of course. It is something of a pressing matter you see."
He offered the touched man with a simple smile for a moment.
"I, too, would be honored to visit your garden... when our business in Ratik is completed... unless we are leaving from the garden in which case, I'll see it now, though with no time to savor it." She is wearing or carrying all her gear already. "I'm ready...Would you lead the way, Master Kezoredos?"
Antonio takes a sip from the bottle that he is holding and decides that its contents do not require transport. He would rather drink from his own rum supplies. He sets the bottle back where he found it and follows everyone down the path to the transport site. "Old timer, bring us safely to Ratik and I'll look at your garden on my return."
Before they depart to the trail the grey elf will begin to chant in the spidery language of magic Ast derjse ofear ofret as she casts mage armor on her self.
The brute, who at a stretch could run carrying nine hundred pounds, struts toward the point of departure carrying a load that would crush lesser men, but what for him is easily a light load. If only his armor weren't so restrictive he might move that much faster. Once he reaches his destination, as the terrifying seconds pass, his armored knees begin to clank rhythmically together, betraying the fear that grips him. He closes his eyes, folds his hands together, takes a deep, long breath, and prays.
mogwag raise an eyebrow at the bulking armored fight but just shrugs his should and follows cerian
the weird old man leads you down the path and you discover a rune etched in a large smooth rock floor. The old man begins arguing with himself again but then starts chanting a magical incantation that is levels above what magic casters in the group can perform. A blue hue dome appears covering the rune with you all inside it. The blue dome gets darker and then obscures your vision... as you feel yourself lifting up off the ground and then you swear you hear a sneeze...
When the blue hued dome fades you find yourself not near a town but out in the wild with sounds of chaos in the air...
You see the sight of battle as a dozen orcs have a human patrol surrounded ready to finish them off... dead humans and orcs lay about the field... there is a bitter cold in the air as well...
Antonio had been expecting the worst. He nearly jumps out of his armor when he hears the sneeze. Realizing that they missed their destination, he is inclined to ruminate over everything that could possibly have gone wrong, but the close proximity of combat snaps him out of his musings.
"Orcs?! What the snot? I knew that old man would steer us wrong."
He lifts the earth breaker above his head and charges recklessly at the nearest orc, then raises a hand to his ear to listen to the applause.
Let us carry righteous fury to our enemies. Anchard says matter of factly just before the teleportation spell shuntd him to somewhere .... else? As the magical energy of the spell flashes away only to be replaced by orcs and possibly defeated humans, Anchard almost reflexively holds out his scorched arm, fingers wrapped around the iron holy symbol of Jeromy. Forge our will and our aim with the fires of cleansing! Anchard calls, opening the gates of his soul to spill the divine energy of his deity in the form of a blessing.
The grey elf draws components from a pouch and begins to chant as 2 eldritch bolts emerge from her hand, in the shapes of unicorns as she casts magic missile at the grey orc. If that one is dead she will cast it at the darker red orc
Ast fesre areas teqw
Iniiative
He drew his bow quickly drawing an arrow and taking aim... only to scowl slightly and shift his aim to his left as the armored man quickly entered the frey. As soon as he loosed he drew another, the arrows streaking a cold blue as they left his enchanted bow.
Kithariel takes a step forward, raises her bow and fires a flurry of arrows at the bright red orc.
In a brief moment three orcs fall from behind as the group joins the fight on the side of the humans... this causes a bit of confusion amongst both war parties... but the humans come to their senses quickly and use the opportunity to press the advantage and attack as well... two humans manage to cut down the orange orc as the others engage in melee with other orcs...
The orcs surround and kill the orange human fighter while the pink orc moves to attack the armored fighter that appeared out of the sky...
...
...
and leaves a nasty wound...and the orc smiles and licks it lips...
Party is up!
Antonio (19 damage)
"Ugh, you pig-faced bastard! Right, I'll do you for that!"
Antonio attempts to plow through the nearest line of orcs . His sheer bulk is likely to break bones and snap necks along the way.
The wizard will cast magic missile at the black orc.
Ast dfres gret pres
Antonio charges through the orcs knocking them prone but not taking them completely out of the fight... Tanariel sends another set of missiles at the ork barking out orders...
Round 1
Mogwag will cast a Divine Favor and move 30 ft forward as he draws his weapon
Kit fires at the supposed leader of the orcs, the black fellow.
Rushing forward he drew one of his whistling arrows just for the effect of the shriek and took aim at the leader aiming high for his head... then then rapidly he shifted his bow ever so slight and fired and arrow at the orc on his left. (the uh greyish blue one)
Striking forward along side Mogwag, Anchard raises his crossbow and fires at the closest orc. Move in! The purity of our fire burns hot, even in the face of powerful foes.
The group focuses fire on the black ork and brings him down with arrows and magic while Anchard shoots his crossbow at the pink ork who was knocked down by Antonio. The yellow and purple orks are also cut down by the humans and as the remaining orks try to flee from the battle they are cut down from behind or peppered with arrows from the group...
"Many thanks for the help. We were hard pressed before your arrival... Kord smiles upon you. Who are you all?" one of the Suel humans asks. He is dressed and equipped better than the others.
Check the corpses for supplies and valuables states the grey elf before she answers the human.
We have been sent by the City of Greyhawk to see what we can do to turn back the orcish hordes. I am Tanariel Lantherion, Anchard is a devotee of the goddess of Flame, Cerian is out expert scout and archer, the female elf is also an archer and Mogwag and Antonio complete our group.
"You come from where?" the man asks and looks around "And by how? I see no horses."
One of his warriors whispers loudly "Tis witchcraft Jarl Borg." in a superstitious tone.
"Einar... calm down and tend to the others." an older and well dressed man says coming to the side of the one called Borg. This newcomer wears an eight-pointed star medallion over his cloak. This identifies him as an adherent to Kord- the Suel god of Athletics, Sports, Storms, Brawling, Strength, and Courage.
We traveled the highways of magic in order to get here sooner rather than later. she admits.
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As the leaders are talking some of the surviving human warriors join in on the pilfering of the dead. They allow the party to pilfer half of the fallen orcs as they pilfer the others.
6 sets of Hide Armor, 3 Falchions, 3 glaives, 33 gp, 1 crude map of mountain passes and settlements not labeled in Ork.
One of the younger warriors brings the fallen lead orks falchion to Borg who accepts it, looks it over as Tanariel is talking and then hands it to the Kord follower who then hands it back to the younger warrior nodding his head.
The elf will cast detect magic on the items when she gets the chance.
"Hooo-eeee!" exclaims Antonio, oblivious to the conversation and the looting. "There's nothing like a little blood sport! It's good to be alive!" He unceremoniously yanks a cloak off of one of the dead orcs, sniffs the cloak, shrugs, then uses it as a towel to wipe the blood and gore off his armor and weapon. Once he considers himself clean enough, he takes out his hip flask to quench his thirst. He offers some to the other warriors.
Kithariel lofts a brow at the slight, intended or not. "I have a name, you know." she says softly to Tanariel after the introductions are done.
mogwag just shrugs his shoulder
They lost, you win to fight an other day he says to the human
As the group preps to leave they notice some of the human warriors mumbling amongst themselves and pointing to the two elves in the group.
The Kord follower steps up to Mogwag and tells him quietly...
"I have no problem with your heritage and I see that you are not like the ones on the ground. But I will warn you that the humans on these hinterlands may not be so as accepting as I am with your blood. My advice- don't back down to those that try you, but don't kill anyone either. Just some friendly advice."
"We walk to Camp Highfrost. You are welcome to join." Jarl Borg says to the group and yells out "Iron-Boars! Time to march!" and the human noble begins walking down the path.
Antonio packs his pipe and lights it. After a few puffs, he falls in again with the Iron-Boar warriors, sings their songs, and tells a bawdy joke or two. His bleeding has stopped by now. He'll be needing a bath and some rest, but he's had worse.
Kithariel joins the group, marching with the Iron-Boars, though she does flash a smile at the ones pointing and looking at the elves, wondering what they are thinking and why they are staring.
The Jarl tells Kithariel "We have tough gods, even for Ratik-folk. We Frutzi revere our gods and my warriors were wondering if you or the witch-elf are Lendore in the flesh. He sometimes takes the guise of a white dragon or an elf when he walks the Oerth. Bori, my warpriest, told them not to fear as you two are real elves. Not many see snow-elves nowadays... not in some 100 years actually."
Bori (the one that spoke to Mogwag privately, speaks to Anchard along the walk and asks "I see that you are touched by the divine. Do you serve Kord?"
"I cannot speak for us all, but please assure your wariors that I am indeed a 'real' elf. I believe them to be as well. We mean your folk no harm nor are we the living embodiments of any god." as far as I know she thinks with a quirk of a smile at the corners of her mouth.
He was quiet merely scanning the area for problems and frowning at his bow. Since he had it magically enchanted his aim had been off, he wondered if it was a mental thing or just some imperfection in the process... He would keep an eye on it, and well the surrounding areas as they moved.