As each of you move into position the footfalls stop. There is a moment of silence before a rich bariton voice utters the hard consonants of Shoanti.
"Son of ma Batch!"
Kithian draws his falchion and points it in the direction of the voice as he shouts in Shoanti.
The barbarian glances at the others as he readies his weapon. "I want to apologize to you all now. This may get ugly.
Not having any clue what to expect, the cleric maintains his readied action.
Vidar clears his throat before shouting back out into the darkness.
Kerrec's eyebrow's raise in alarm at Kithian's apology. Through clenched teeth. "What is going on here?"
Kithian shrugs and frowns as he watches the woods. "Probably my tribesmen. When I left them the tribal shaman was trying to kill me. You know, standard stuff."
Looking relieved, Camillo says, "Oh, I saw that all the time in Riddleport. Disagreements between friends, you know. It, ah, was a disagreement, right?"
Camillo's question hangs for a moment and then is answered by a pair of arrows coming from the East behind the group. The wizard takes an arrow in the calf and screams as she falls off the log that was serving as a bench while another arrow passes between Orik and Cam. The mercenary, currently unbound looks at Cam with wide eyes and dives to cover near the wagon as he yells. A weapon maybe?
From the tree line in the West three tall, powerfully built Shoanti emerge at a eerily quite run. Each feature elaborate black and blue tattoos that cover their relatively uncovered torsos. Each of them throw axes as the run forward then pull menacing two handed swords as they move towards the group. Their tattoos extend to their necks where it appears they have painted their faces a dark black. Each wears a bone helmet that further enhances their menacing look.
One ax passes by Rullis by the narrowest of margins while a second wings Kerrec more denting his armor than anything . The last ax, thrown by the obvious leader sails past Vidar to land squarely in the dirt at Kithian's feet. Just short of its intended target.
As the chaos of battle erupts the low din of a rumbling tune can also be heard from the East as a skald's song fills the air.
Rullis, tensed to cast in response to an obvious threat, cast his forbiding spell as the tribesman approached him. Though he has pulled his sword it is obvious to Rullis that the man's muscles are firmly locked and it does not appear that he has the will to bring the blade down as he approaches the cleric.
Vidar
Rullis
Orik
Kerrec
Cam
Kithian
[Kithian "Retrieval" Gang]
You guys are up. None of the barbs are in melee that ran in from the West (they are about 15 feet short of the group) and there appear to be others hiding to the East of the trail in the opposing trees.
Vidar, almost ecstatic at the various possibilities his spells lend him is almost overwhelmed at the many options.
But then the cold analytical mind kicks in and he decides to start with the most obvious choice.
Rushing past Kithian, he grabs the axe from the dirt and moves over behind the cart with Orik.
"This will have to do for the nonce, our fellow traveling companions may supply you with better weaponary, else you will be forced to retrieve one from the corpses that will soon be littering the battlefield."
"Yes! Disagreements very much like this! Um, I suppose it is too much to hope that your tribesmen are more civilized than a bunch of Riddleport thugs, huh?"
Kithian moves forward as he bellows something in terran, intent on killing the leader of the group.
Power Attack:
Damage:
At this point I have Cam, Lyre, Orik and Vidar around the heart of the camp and Kerrec, Rullis, Kithian on the outer edge of the western side. In effect the cart and the group in the center obscure the three from the archers. Orik and Vidar are "behind" the cart and the wizard is writhing around on the ground next to the center of the camp so really its Cam who is exposed to the eastern assault at the moment.
Rullis flinches as the tribesman rushes him, but when he holds his attack he knows he's under his spell. This allows him to ignore him and look back at where the singing and arrows came from. With another quick chant while one hand holds onto his wooden leaf hanging around his neck, his another hand gestures with his spear in a sweeping motion across the far eastern edge of the woods. A blanket of thick fog forms in front of the woods blocking all sight and covering a 40-foot wide section. "That should keep them from firing from hiding. Come out where we can see you!" he thinks to himself before turning back to the Shoanti before him, ignoring him, and heading over to see if he can give Kithian a flanking partner.
Kerrec looks down in dismay at the dent in his new armor and raises his crossbow at the bank of fog. Shouting at their adversaries. "I pray there is a better way to deal with this than with violence! Stand down so we may sort this out! If not, we will be forced to deliver road-side justice!"
Kerrec hold his action until he sees a tribesman come from the fog in a threatening manner. If that's the case, he will fire.
Add one to the totals if adversary is within 30 feets.
Or not...
To the wizard, Camillo says, "Stay down behind the log. Their aim might improve - and they think you are on our side."
He begins singing a drinking song about driving the rats off a ship from his days in Riddleport.
As he sings, he stays low as he moves to collect his shield from near his bedroll, drawing his longsword as he moves.
Rullis casts the fog and picks his spear up to move into position. Running at the tribesmen who approached Kithian, free to ignore the obviously magic'd foe that once threaten him, the cleric easily find position to harry the attacker and assist his friend.
Orik grunts as the fog rolls in the turns to look at the tribesmen still feet away from the group. Seeing an opening he throws and ax past Kerrec as the paladin turns to the center, to watch the far side of the road for trouble.
The axe flies true and cuts the tribesmen along his exposed thigh. The tribesmen grunts in pain and turns quite clearly to give his attention to Orik.
Cam begins his song, seeing an opportunity with the incoming fog to move about the camp and regain his longsword. The wizard whimpers in response to the bard's admonition to keep down but flips on her belly and takes cover against the log she was sitting on.
Kithian grumbles his prayer in the harsh baritone of Terran and meets the leader of the tribesmen head on. Raising his blade and relying on power the half-orc finds an opening and punishes the attacking Shoanti with a brutal blow that rolls off the attackers shoulder. A bright splash of blood offers confirmation that the blow was strong.
Despite the strong blow the leader responds with a strong blow of his own, hammering at Kithain with the two handed sword with skill and strength finding a spot where a solid stike slams into the oracle.
The second tribesman swear loudly as he lifts his sword and approaches Rullis but strains to find the will to bring the blade down. Despite the black paint on his neck it is plain from the rest of his skin that the tribesman is flush with fury and frustration from the alck of ability to bring the blow home.
The third attacker charges Orik and attempts to punish the mercenary for his attack but the dark haired man in well trained and avoids the blows of his assailant with ease as he casts about looking for another weapon.
Meanwhile the fog remains still but the booming voice of the skald grows louder and closer still and it is safe to say that he, at the very least has entered the fog bank and approaches.
Helping Kithian, Rullis thrusts his magically enhanced long spear at the tribesman in an attempt to pierce him like a fish.
"Ignore me at your peril fool..."
Vidar smirks as he feels arcane energy building up inside his mind and body, then he simply points at the enemy engaged in battle with Orik and mutters a simple arcane phrase.
Seeing that it seems the singing Shoanti is the only one going to emerge from the fog, Kerrec turns toward the tribesman attacking Kithian. Shaking his head in frustration at this needless violence, Kerrec wordlessly fires at the Shoanti engaged with Kithian.
Power Attack:
Damage:
Reggie Attack:
Camillo drops his inspirational speech , snatches up his shield, and runs toward the fog and the other singer, hoping to enter the fog and hide within until they reveal themselves.
Kithian can I get an intimidate check please?
Intimidate:
HP: 25/41
CAmillo gathers his gear and heads to the fog while Vidar shoots his magic back at the warrior that harasses Orik. Rullis presses the advantage on the leader and his spear bites deep. Kerrec also lands a solid blow, his bolt crackling with energy and wounding the tribesman.
Obviously in his own sort of rage the leader persists but Kithian responds and despite the wildness of the blow, the oracle's falchion finds its mark against the tribesman leader. Bloody and wounded already from the force of their first exchange the cumulative assault is too much. Kithian drives the blade across and the leader's entrails spill to the earth as the man crumples dead.
The listless attacker who had been unable to bring his blade to bear in the first few seconds of the fight inhales sharply and brings his blade to rest, yelling out to the fog and his other companion with earnest concern.
There is a waver in the song amongst the fog and then silence. The foe attacking Orik puts his blade aside and shows an open hand in obvious surrender.
Camillo continues into the fog, the apparent surrender just causing him to move more quietly.
With one down, Rullis turns his spear tip towards the one who has been unable to attack knowing that the effect won't last much longer. With his apparent surrender, he does not press an attack but instead keeps his guard up as he backs towards Kithian. With Gorzeh's blessing, he draws on His power to heal some of the Barbarian's wounds. He'll need it if this apparent surrender appears to be a farce.
Since he doesn't understand their language, he waits keeping his spear tip trained on the tribesman until one of his comrades states otherwise.
Kithian watches his enemy fall and turns to the other foes, intent on sending them to be their leader's shield bearers in the after life when he hears the tribesman speak. The half orc shakes his head like a dog slinging off water, then raises his falchion above his head.
Now gather your dead and pay him honors, for he died in battle, no matter how misguided it was."
The oracle lowers his blade to his side but does not put it away before turning his head sideways and wistpering to the others. "Well that went better than expected. I was sure Gorum would protect me, but I figured you guys were screwed."
Rullis smirks at Kithian's remark. "But it looks like you were the one who took the beating, I'm surprised you are still standing. What's going on here?"
Vidar merely shrugs a little at Kithian.
"Fear not master Darlock, the moment things had gone against us we would cheerfully have handed you over to them, in fact, the sole reason we did not just do that from the start is that they failed to ask POLITELY."
Glancing over at the wizardess, Vidar frowns.
"At my table no one starves, and I do not enjoy seeing anyone in needless pain either, master Stillman, if you please?"
From the fog the skald emerges, while the other two tribesmen emerge from the south, obviously having attempted to flank around the bank. Each of them moves deliberately to ensure they are not perceived as threats.
Moving to the leader they strip off his piecemeal armor, his helmet, his sword and his belt and pouches and pile them off to the side. Wordlessly the Shoanti take their leader, now stripped of his possessions, and make their way into the woods.
The skald, an older man with streaks of white and grey, stops for a moment before Kithian and places his hand on the barbarian's shoulder. He speaks with a deep baritone that only amplifies the deep tone of the Shoanti tongue.
With that the skald follows the other, leaving behind the spoils of the defeated leader.
Kithian nods his head at the skald, watching as the man disappears into the woods before turning back to his friends. "Well I guess I should explain. Before I came to Sandpoint I was a tribesman of the Tamiir-Quah, the same tribe as the men we just fought. During my vision quest, as you would call it, I received a vision from Gorum the god of battle. When I told the shaman about it he tried to have me killed. I was forced to flee that night and have been waiting on something such as this to happen. That sheep buggering shaman has turned the tribe against me and will probably continue to send more of my tribesmen to remove me as a threat."
The barbarian shrugs and grins at his friends before continuing. "So I have that going for me."
Vidar holds up one hand.
"I have just one question, "pig buggerer"? I always assumed it was goats..."
Camillo will watch the fogbound Shoanti emerge from his position in the fogbank, sheathing his sword when they make their departure. He will walk to where the lady wizard is lying and help her up. "Your strength is impressive. I know a lot of men that would have been screaming much louder and longer from such an injury."
Gesturing to the dirt on her clothes after she dove for cover, he says, "If I may?" With her assent - or at least not active opposition - he will cast prestidigitation repeatedly in an effort to get her cleaned up. "It's not much, but it is the least I can do. I will have to defer to the healer regarding your leg, I'm afraid. I've never had much skill with healing wounds." He shrugs.
To Vidar's request, Rullis says in a monotone voice, "If I must."
Rullis will watch patiently while Camillo cleans up the wizard, having no eagerness to deal with her or her leg. But once Camillo is done, Rullis will quickly remove the arrow, cast stabilize, then minimally bandage the wound. "Your injury will heal in time. Try to stay off that leg until then." he says with disinterest before rising and going about his business.
Vidar holds up one hand.
"I have just one question, "pig buggerer"? I always assumed it was goats..."
Kithian shrugs at the mage. "Pigs are dirtier."
Vidar winks at Kithian. "You would know..."
Camillo looks at the cleric's retreating back with some surprise. To the woman, he says, "Ah, well. I will help you get around until you heal up or we find something for you to lean on."
He moves over to Rullis. Whispering, he asks, "Is everything OK? You don't seem yourself."
Kithian winks back at Vidar. "Aye, I am always covered in mud when I leave your mother's hut."
She's conscious. Stabilize doesn't apply, does it?
Kithian chuckles at his own joke then bends over the fallen tribesman's gear, giving it a quick inspection.
Camillo, surprised at the brushoff from the normally kind cleric, goes over to see what Kithian's kinsman brought him.
"So - if the leader falls, the rest of the group stops fighting and leaves his stuff? Would they expect us to stop fighting if you had fallen? I expected them to fight to avenge him..."
Vidars smile curdles and he gets a hard look in his eye.
"I am an orphan remember?"
No longer in a friendly mood, Vidar returns to the fire to finish the meal.