Once he reaches the "skanky fellow," he will ready an action to both rage and then initiate a grapple on Dashki should the man attack him. Also, as he reaches him, he will place a hand on Dashki's shoulder and say in a loud commanding whisper,
What are you doing out here, Dashki?
As Ahnekhet and Trevvis begin creeping through the night, Ahnekhet will cast aspect of the falcon upon himself. At the designated distance, Ahnekhet and Trevvis will open fire.
From his hiding place in the shadows, Ahnekhet whispers the incantation necessary for his spell and then lets loose a lone arrow. The projectile streaks toward the lead gnoll, who despite the torches he carries is unaware of the danger he is in. The arrow takes him in the shoulder, just above his breastplate, causing him to drop the torch he grasps in his right hand. The torch sputters in the gravel and the flames dance wildly before dying out.
Haaaaaaargh!!! The flind growls, and he quickly drops the second torch, grabbing his wounded shoulder and glancing in irritation at the shaft protruding from it. Deep red blood is visible in a thin rivulet beginning to trace the contour of his armor.
Immediately Trevvis lets loose an arrow of his own (). Even in the darkness he gets off an accurate shot, taking the flind high in the chest, nearly pinning his left arm to his breastplate. The metal plate on his chest prevents the arrow from piercing one of the gnoll's lungs, possibly even his heart, and limits the damage to a flesh wound.
At the arrival of a second arrow, the gnoll simply glares at it without making a sound, and then peers into the darkness in the direction from which they came. The gnolls behind him glance nervously to the east and west, and one of them peers south, but they do not drop the torches or break formation.
At a distance of 15 feet, Dashki suddenly stirs and Siraaj tenses, ready to unleash full fury on the wiry man, but Dashki appears engrossed in the plains to the north and gives no indication that he hears anything. Instead, he begins to angle the dagger blade and tilt it forward and back to slight degrees. The movement at first seems odd, but Siraaj soon realizes that the man is giving off a signal - reflecting the moonlight off of his blade.
Siraaj closes the remaining distance hurriedly, reaching for Dashki's shoulder, but as he takes the final step, Dashki suddenly leaps to his feet - What? Who shot? Wait -- WAIT! His voice is shrill and agitated. Siraaj's hand pauses merely inches from his shoulder.
"Good, Trevvis. Keep it up. Whatever gnolls don't scatter, lay low." Ahnekhet's voice is a cold, sharp whisper.
** spoiler omitted **
Initiatives:
Flind:
Gnolls:
Dashki:
Siraaj will initiate a grapple with Dashki in an attempt to pin him eventually.
Fool! Your scheme is up, Dashki! You are working with the gnolls! Tell us of their plans! NOW!
Combat Order:
Ahnekhet - 23
Siraaj - 18
Nadia - 17
Dashki - 14
Lotus - 10
Flind - 10
(4)Gnolls - 8
Nadia, mace drawn, maneuvers up behind her brother while sheathing said mace and pulling out her light crossbow. She loads a bolt as she steps up behind her brother just as he startles Dashki with his commanding voice.
Initiative:
Before the gnolls can gather their wits and assemble a sufficient defense, Ahnekhet quickly pulls a second arrow and fires. His arrow takes the flind in the left shoulder this time, perfectly symmetrical to the first arrow he fired. A pink froth begins to form at the gum line of the beast as it snarls angrily into the darkness.
Trevvis follows suit, sending another arrow at the gnoll beginning to resemble a pin-cushion.
His shot falls short of the intended target, burying itself to the fletching in sand two feet in front of the flind.
Siraaj grabs Dashki roughly and hauls him up against the monastery wall. The putrid man grunts in surprise and blinks repeatedly. The surprise quickly fades, however, and the cold, dispassionate glimmer returns to his eyes.
Take your mangy hands off me, you damned ox! Those are gnolls of the Three Jaws tribe -- they are here to help us kill the gnolls of Kelmarane! He squirms a little, uncomfortable in the big man's grasp. Whose brilliant idea was it to start shooting?! Call them off before they start attacking us!
Lotus, unaware of what's going on where, will simply double move to AB44.
The wounded flind glares in disgust at the arrows jutting from his shoulders, drawing a heavy bar from a sheath on his back, and immediately throwing it to the ground at his feet. He makes a crude gesture toward the plains east of the monastery and raises his hands in a posture of nonviolence.
Enough! He bellows, spit and froth launching from his teeth. The gnolls behind him raise their hands in similar fashion. They have all come to a halt.
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Ahnekhet observes the flind drop his weapon, then his eyes narrow menacingly as he puts another arrow to the bowstring. The creaking of the bow being draw is loud in the eerie quiet of the night.
No. They're lying. ::Images of smoke and death and the broken remains of a caravan just beyond the walls of Solku flash through the elf's mind. His eyes narrow even further in response to the memory. ::
They are savage, filthy animals.
They would have if they were there.
Ahnekhet's answer is the sharp twang of the bow.
Ahnekhet's third arrow thuds viciously into the gut of the flind, and it a grunt spouts from it mouth, followed by a trickle of blood. The massive, hideous creature staggers back a step, but keeps his arms raised in surrender.
Trevvis can't hide a smirk and he similarly ignores the gesture of nonviolence offered them. He sends another arrow screaming toward the gnolls.
Had the flind stood his ground after taking Ahnekhet's arrow, Trevvis' arrow would have nestled neatly in his left eye. Instead, the projectile whistles harmlessly past his head and vanishes into the night.
Siraaj turns his head with a look of disgust on his face as he is far too close to the man's stench for his own comfort. Still, he holds Dashki up against the wall with nearly all his strength.
Pathetic wretch! Do you think we need the likes of those fly-infested dogs to fight at our side?! I'd rather team up with gnomes! Still, I'd trust a Lamia before I believed a word that you say, coward!
With that, Siraaj will take Dashki, in a full headlock, back towards the entrance of the monastery.
Nadia, seeing her brother grab Dashki and begin "escorting" him back towards Lotus and herself continues her hurried pace, jogging alongside the monastery.
What is he doing out here?
Dashki squirms and kicks madly in Siraaj's firmly locked grasp. His words become garbled and shorten into growls and snarls.
His movements become savage and he fights with a strength his wiry form belies.
Escape Artist Check:
Despite the furious motions of the small man, Siraaj keeps his arms locked and will not let him free.
Lotus, seeing Siraaj struggling with someone, will hurry forward to see if she can somehow help.
"What- what's happening? Who is tha- Dashki?! What... but... I don't understand!"
Errr... unnngh... You will answer for this, Dashki, whatever your aims!
Siraaj will continue dragging Dashki towards the monastery entrance.
Nadia will begins chanting some arcane words as she makes a 'come hither' motion with her right hand following through with her wrist.
If successful, she will watch for signs that the spell worked and then ask him, Dashki, what are you doing out here sneaking around? Are you working with the gnolls to coordinate an attack on the monastery?!
The Flind is now breathing in a somewhat labored fashion. His head nods forward slightly and he growls something into his chest.
Then, with a furious howl, he pitches forward onto his knees, placing his hands behind his massive canine head. He glares angrily in the direction the arrows are coming from, searching the darkness beyond his vision in vain. Enough! I am Narg the Sandscourge! We come from the Three Jaws Tribe. We are here to help you slaughter the gnolls of Kelmarane!
The gnolls behind him gawk for a moment at the flind's posture and look confusedly at each other. Then, one by one, they kneel behind him and place their hands behind their heads in similar fashion - all of them, that is, except for the last. With a snarl of disgust, he turns and begins to run northeast into the desert wastes. He is followed by the harsh, angry syllables of a gnoll curse spat from the mouth of the flind.
"Brother?!" Ahnekhet's eyes widen in alarm then narrow into deadly thin slits as vague suspicions and curiosities crash together into grim certainty within the elf's mind. "Pfeh. Gnoll expert indeed." These last words aren't spoken as much as they are spit, Ahnekhet's tone dripping with disgust.
As he takes aim again, Ahnekhet quietly whispers to Trevvis, "As sick as it makes me, I believe that flind to be telling the truth. Gnolls are crafty and they are cowards - humility is utterly foreign to their filthy kind. I will send an arrow after the fleeing dog, you go forth and address the remaining ones. They know approximately from whence they are being shot, but not how many shooters there are. I will cover you should they attempt anything more... in line with their nature."
With that, Ahnekhet will send another arrow out into the night, this time after the fleeing gnoll.
Ahnekhet's arrow streaks into the night after the fleeing gnoll, taking it through the back of the neck and lodging there as soon as the fletching reaches the gnoll's thick hide. The tip and two-thirds of the arrow protrude, bloody and glistening in the moonlight from just beneath the foul creature's lower jaw. The beast's tongue lolls out between it's pronounced canines as it tries to scream, but no sound emanates from the impaled windpipe and voicebox.
The gnoll flops awkwardly to the ground and sucks breath in horrible, raspy gasps. Limbs spasm for a brief moment, one arm reaching for the arrow, grabbing it in disbelief, then flopping back to the dust. The gnoll lies still, the ragged, labored breathing growing shallower.
Trevvis grins as he watches the gnoll squirm and then lie still. He listens intently to the gasping, then snaps back to reality as he processes what Ahnekhet has just told him. He turns his head to make eye contact with him, his already small eyes narrowing to slits. Gettin' awful big for your boots, there, Longears. You want a pow-wow wit' the mongrels, you do it. I prefer my hide attached t'me.
It is the custom of the Three Jaws to bury their trophies of battle in their flesh. The more gruesome and painful the disfigurement, and the more numerous the amount of piercings, the greater respect the individual gnoll is afforded within the tribe. This more sets them apart from the other gnolls of the Pale Mountain region. As this realization sets in, you notice various objects glittering in the hides of the gnolls, reflecting the spastic torchlight. Narg's hide is the most pierced and stretched of the group before you.
IX?! IX?! That's way beyond your level!
Siraaj takes advantage of the more subdued Dashki and lets loose of his grip, but continues to lead him towards the entrance of the monastery.
With an less intense tone Speak, Dashki. Why are you working with the gnolls? Why would you bring these filthy dogs to our doorstep in the middle of the night?
Nadia steps to the side to allow Siraaj to pass. Unsure whether or not her charm spell worked, she simply prepares to follow behind her brother and return back into the monastery, eagerly awaiting Dashki's explanation of why the gnolls have come.
Dashki does not resist as Siraaj steers him toward the monastery entrance. He makes eye-contact with Nadia as they pass, but does not speak. His chest is still heaving.