Using his other senses, Ankih tries to find his way to the door.
Well! THIS is a humbling experience...
He thinks as he runs into a table, and walks the wrong way...
Bugsby wiggles and squirms his way free of the guard and dashes back towards the group.
Kalt looks over his shoulder at Sven, one eyebrow raised, his question clear: Fight or stand down? Kalt's sword is still raised, held across his body, ready to defend himself or strike down the guards who have touched his small friend.
Gilganis bursts out the door, following behind Sven and Kalt. It is everything he can do to stifle his rage at the sight of the soldiers, not wanting to put the group in danger for the benefit of his own revenge. He levels his crossbow in the direction of the men who were holding Bugsy and quietly directs his voice at Kalt, "These men. They are evil to the core. They have taken everything from me. If you are against them, I am with you."
Kalt acknowledges Sven's response with a quick nod, and gives Gil a longer look before bowing his head briefly to the tiefling, a determined look on his face. He turns back to the guards, weapon still in hand, and says, "As my friend says, walk away. We're not looking for trouble here, but we can show you the way to it quickly, if you wish."
A few soldiers file out of the tavern, spreading out as thy go. Then comes the clear leader of the gang, who addresses the group is gruff common, "I am Sergeant Volan Sertane, leader of this squad. Radosek Pavril has demanded your presence at the Pale Tower, where you are to be questioned for your actions against the throne. I strongly recommend you submit to us before anything bad happens to you or this fine town." Then, seeing Gilganis in the back of the group, adds, "You should ask that demon-spawn what happens when you resist. While I can't claim the privilege of teaching him that lesson, it serves that filth right." Around him, his men ready their shields, while a few snicker in agreement.
Kalt now looks to Gilganis, eyebrow raised once again. You know these boys, how serious is this? his expression seems to say.
Gilganis' icy stare at the man doing the speaking only becomes more severe at the mention of a lesson. Fighting something within him he chokes down the anger and shoots Kalt a fierce glance, conveying his anger and pain in a swift moment. His finger flexes on the trigger of his crossbow, but the device does not falter, aiming true for the speaking man.
The man stifles a chuckle at Sven's comments, "We carry out the LAWS of this land, and the LAWS of this area are made by the White Witch Nazhena Vasilliovna and her apprentice, Radosek Pavril. We have all the honor we care for being the keepers of those laws. Now as for threatening innocent woman and children, anything that happens to them will be on YOUR head, not mine. They have lived here for many years before you showed up, and they just might live here for years more. It all depends on you newcomers and your actions. You seem like goodly folk who wouldn't want anything bad to happen, so how about you surrender your weaponry and come quiet before things get ugly."
Windows and doors begin to creak open as the local populace try to quietly back into their own homes, and those that were in their homes, peek out at the stand off.
belts out Gilganis, obviously tired of the lies and the charade. Inside he knows there is only one outcome to this verbal fencing, everything else is just a precursor.
"These men, their kind. They killed my wife...stole my children, to force my compliance to their ways. The same with others in this village, such as the woman Nadya you mentioned. Their lot is without honor, and they will likely slay us once we are disarmed." he says under his breath to the two men at his side.
Volan sighs, "Very well. Kill them all!" he orders.
Hearing the impending violence in the shouting voices Ankih again heads for the door...
" Kalt, Sven, Gil... I cannot see you, but if you need it get near me and call out. I have a couple more waves of positive energy left me today."
Ankih will call out to the others as he clears the doorway..
Bugsby takes a few moments to catch his breath, safely behind the knees of Sven and Kalt, and is pleased by the appearance of Gilganis and Ankih, feeling some of his confidence return. Searching quickly for something to say, "You'll never eat us alive!!" he screams in a loud a voice as he can muster.
Hearing the order to attack, Kalts leaps into action. Knowing that if he charged the leader straight on, he'd likely be surrounded by the guard, he goes for the southern flank, bringing his sword down hard on the mans shield, but no lasting effect.
The guard lashes out into Kalt, catching him in the exposed forearm. Two more charge forward and clash with Sven, who finds himself bleeding from a gash across his leg. The other guards spread out and begin to circle the party, ready to pounce next turn. Surprisingly, two more armed with crossbows appear from behind the Tavern and fire upon Bugsby, scoring two hits on the surprised Gnome.
The guard sucks in wind, surprised at the speed and ferocity of the blow. He stands there for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts.
Gilganis calls out to the gnome in front of him, "Behind me little one, lest those bolts find home once more" as his snakelike tail flicks to a flask from his bandolier. The dark skinned man grabs it and quaffs the sparkling liquid inside, the action almost immediately accompanied by the shimmering of air in front of the tiefling.
Over his shoulder Gilganis speaks to the man standing at the door, "Your services will likely be soon required Ankih, if you follow the wall of my shop to the corner you will find us."
The tiefling then strides forward, placing himself between the soldier and Bugsy, guarding Sven's flank at the same time. "Time to pay your debt," he says to the man facing him, his eyes promising only death.
Following the wall, Ankih reaches the corner.
" Bugsby's been shot? Come to me my little friend, and I will cure you."
I cant tell who is hurt or where they are...If I throw out a wave of healing energies, it will heal ALL in range.....
" Come be my eyes Bugsby. Please?"
The injured gnome, small body spun first one way and then the other by the two bolts, grits his teeth against the pain and nods to the unseeing Ankih "...Coming!" Moving towards Ankih he pats the mans arm as he hurries behind him -letting the cleric feel his presence- and starts speaking rapid-fire, "I'mjustbehindyou. Svenstands15feettoyourwestandfightsafoeNWofhim. GilganisstandsjustsouthofSven, afoetohiswest. Kaltstandsabout50feetaway -westandalittlesouth, facingabrutetohisNW. Sixmoreyetunengaged, twoofthemwieldingcrossbowsfromthesouthwest."
While talking he sweeps a hand across the ground, rising up with glowing energy in his hand, which his swipes down the front of his body from head to toe, a briefly shimmering shield around his body blinking into existence.
Kalt's face contorts in a grimace of pain as the guard's blade takes him in the arm. He shifts his grip slightly and tries to return the favor, but this strike is even more unsteady than the last, and the man easily sidesteps the blow.
The party engaged, the remaining bandits join the fight. One circles around Kalt while another charges in. In a flurry of thrusts and parries, the lithe ulfen manages to avoid many of the blows, only coming out of it with a minor scrape across his back. The one near the statue sees easy prey in the blind Ankih, and charges his down, stabbing the blind cleric in the gut.
The unstunned bandit tries to revenge his woozy friend and misses horribly. Perhaps it was only designed to create a distraction, because Sergeant Volan moves in and unleashes a vicious attack on the alchemist. "I know what you can do bomber." he comments as he orders his men to begin to surround the two combatants. Two bolts whiz past Gilganis from the crossbowmen who seem distracted. Perhaps it is from a pair of arrows the land near them, one striking the foot of a crossbowman.
Oh Dear the gnome thinks to himself, trying to figure how to tackle this situation. First he decides to relocate, sending his small body into a tumble to the north of the baddun attacking Ankih. Twisting under and around, the nimble gnome comes up behind the bandit, laughing aloud, his normally fast voice slow and deliberate, "Haha! We're flanking him now Ankih!"
Satisfied with his position, and keeping well clear of the bandits weapon , he spits noisily into his hands, rubbing them together and tossing the messy confection at the ground to the west of Sven. From the magic-imbued spittle rises a puddle of grease under the feet of the enemy leader and the previously stunned foe northwest of Sven. Fall you blustering bovines! the gnome wishes earnestly to himself as he watches his spell take shape.
Lastly, he calls out the updated positions to Ankih, and the overall status of the group. "Gilganis, myself, andyouarehurtingAnkih. Kaltsholdinghisownfornow, buthasthreebrutesbashingathim. Imovedtoflanktheonewhostabbedyou, nobodyelsehasmovedyet. Moveyourselftenfeeteasttohidefromthecrossbows... andsomehealypopswouldbewelcome!"
Gilganis winces at the strike from the leader of the soldiers, feeling the blood already flowing from the wound. His first thought is to repay the man in kind, until he notices the swarm of men surrounding the elf and realizing that the situation there could become dire rather quickly. Unconcerned with his own safety he steps forward towards the ranger and pulls a vial from his bandolier, pulling the stopper with his teeth and mixing the contents with a pinch of powder from a pouch at his belt. As the mixture begins to throw sparks and smoke he hurls it at the man in front of Kalt.
"Burn..."
Perhaps it is the surge of adrenaline as he comes under assault, or perhaps it is Sarenrae looking out for one of her chosen, but as Ankih’s blood begins pumping furiously, he finds his vision clearing slightly. While clearly not back to normal, he begins to make out shapes and colors.
Kalt feels himself surrounded, and this notion is reinforced by the blade across his back. He knows fighting with foes on all sides is a quick path to the grave, but is unsure what he can do about it, so far from Sven, his usual battlefield companion. Kalt swings his blade to the side as if to strike one of the men before him, but the startling flash of fire on his target inspires him. He spins, catching the man behind him completely by surprise, and the black iron blade of his sword cuts deeply into the man’s neck, painting the snow around him a vivid red. Kalt continues his spin, ending up facing his first foe, now slightly charred around the edges.
" Sarenrae!" Ankih shouts as he holds up his holy symbol.
" Sorry Bugsby. I couldn't move back just yet..."
He then staggers five feet south.
The grunt slips over Bugsby's spell, only to be bludgeoned into unconsciousness from Sven. Volan however, seems unaffected by the spell. The guard lashes out in the free attack at Gilganis, striking only air.
From the east, two more arrows strike the nearby guard, this time, far more grievously. Perhaps the bluff worked, perhaps not, but the guard who lashes out at Bugsby does not put very much effort into it, and it bounces off the magical armor he recently cast.
The boss grunts at Sven, "Fine, if ye want it that way." He feigns high with his shield, and then brings his sword low, slashing the massive ulfen across the thigh. It seems to Sven that he is quite skilled at fighting humans, knowing exactly where to aim to cause massive damage.
The target of the blast waivers from the damage, and tucks tail and runs away as fast as his legs can carry him. This leaves only one to face the grim blade of the nimble ranger, who seems more focused on defense than causing damage, his blow easily deflected.
Continuing their bosses orders, the two crossbowmen continue to fire upon the alchemist, causing him to duck into a nasty slash across the gut from the guard right on his tail.
Kalt's grin changes from a grim one to an exultant one as he feels the tide of battle turning. He lands a startlingly fast - and telling- blow on the injured man before him, then moves to help Sven take down the cocky leader of the troop.
As the area around the lead guard becomes crowded, Bugsby quickly dismisses his grease spell from the ground. After making some quick mental calculations which include numbers in Gnome, Sylvan and Common, ticking a few numbers on three fingers, and thinking very hard about the speed of a caterpillar creating a cocoon, wrenching his thoughts away from butterflies to consider the situation at hand, then losing his train of thought when he starts to consider his own dirty hand (some of his spit still clinging to it), he finally comes to a decision on how to proceed.
Spitting once more into his hands and rubbing a grease spell back into existence, he steps 5' northwest, and lobs the spell onto the guard leaders sword, the martial item immediately coating over with the slick substance.
He then calls out updated positions to Ankih, speaking in his same rapid-fire method to impart as much information as possible.
Blearily Ankih looks around him at the chaos. Listening to Bugsby he takes aim at the guard to his north, between the little one and himself.
"Hope this isn't a villager...Dawnflower starburst."
Unfortunately, his aim is off and he melts a small hole in the snow near his target.
The Sergent grunts as Sven's blow strikes home, and then his sword becomes greasy in his hands. "If yer so honorable, and a "proper warrior" why do you need help to fight me?" he says to Sven.
Gilganis grunts as another strike hits home, the wounds starting to take their toll. As refreshed as he feels from the positive energy flowing through him it is obvious that he won't stand against their foes much longer. Undaunted, he grits his teeth and sneers at the man, determined to buy his new acquaintances the time needed to prevail.
He steps away from the man with the sword, moving to Kalt's side, and once again begins working with the components on his bandolier. His nimble hands come away from the container with a fuming vial of fire, which he quickly throws into the face of the man who slashed at him.
"You are no better than the witches you serve, and you will burn just as they shall..."
The man shrieks as the fire consumes him, a few seconds later he collapses and the smell of roasted flesh fills the area.
Two more arrows rain down into the crossbowmen, however this time they do not find their targets. Volan adjusts his grip slightly due to the grease, and works his sword past Sven’s guard, gouging a furrow of blood on the northman’s shoulder. The guard harassing Bugsby continues his assault, and yet again, the Gnomes magical armor is sufficient to deflect the blow. Finally, two more bolts zip past Gilganis, trying to revenge their fallen comrades, but bury themselves into distant houses.
Bugsby starts laughing uproariously at the leaders comment to Sven, doubling over and holding his sides. He stands up straight, wiping his eyes and gets his breath as if to respond, but when his eyes alight on the leader again he just points at the man and doubles over again in mirth. The poor gnome clearly thinks the man's comment extremely hilarious.
Still chucking, the gnome sorcerer looks up at the man trying to hack through his magical shield, "Still at it are you? Clearly you're weapon has no effect on me." he claims slowly and deliberately -trying to look supremely unconcerned. Then he takes a step away (5' step nw) while gathering entropic magical energy from the air, then lobs a ball of entropic protoplasm energy right at the mans torso. The glob sizzles with acid as it flies at the persistent guard.
Tanglefoot Bag: When you throw a tanglefoot bag at a creature (as a ranged touch attack with a range increment of 10 feet), the bag comes apart and goo bursts out, entangling the target and then becoming tough and resilient upon exposure to air. An entangled creature takes a –2 penalty on attack rolls and a –4 penalty to Dexterity and must make a DC 15 Reflex save or be glued to the floor, unable to move. Even on a successful save, it can move only at half speed. Huge or larger creatures are unaffected by a tanglefoot bag. A flying creature is not stuck to the floor, but it must make a DC 15 Reflex save or be unable to fly (assuming it uses its wings to fly) and fall to the ground. A tanglefoot bag does not function underwater.
A creature that is glued to the floor (or unable to fly) can break free by making a DC 17 Strength check or by dealing 15 points of damage to the goo with a slashing weapon. A creature trying to scrape goo off itself, or another creature assisting, does not need to make an attack roll; hitting the goo is automatic, after which the creature that hit makes a damage roll to see how much of the goo was scraped off. Once free, the creature can move (including flying) at half speed. If the entangled creature attempts to cast a spell, it must make a concentration check with a DC of 15 + the spell's level or be unable to cast the spell.
So excited and busy is the gnome, he forgets to update Ankih on the goings on of the battlefield.
Kalt takes a quick side-step, addressing the guard commander's back as he does so, "Bit awkward standing up for your honor and nobility when you start a fight by picking on one gnome with a half-dozen of your men, eh? Though I'll grant you, he's a fierce little fellow." Kalt then feints high, but drops his blade and drives its tip deep into Volan's thigh, just missing a vital artery. Perhaps if I'd resisted the urge to taunt him, I'd have taken him by surprise and made that strike hurt a bit more. Still, it was fun and he had it coming.
Gilganis smiles inwardly as he hears Bugsy taunting his opponent, the brief levity driving away some of the pain from his numerous wounds.
More than meets the eye with that one to be sure. And made of stern stuff indeed.
Realizing his supplies are dwindling, the alchemist switches tactics, pulling his crossbow and loading the device, preparing to match the bowmen and hold them off from targeting any other members of the party.
As he fits the bolt into the channel of the crossbow he levels the weapon at the bowman to the south, his eyes fixed on the target, an empty stare promising only death.