Janna watches the enemyslip back into the mists. not wanting to loose her target.
Silly dog, don't you know, the mist only enhaces the fury of the tempest.
she unleashes a bolt of lightning toward the area of the mist he backed into.
Damien's smiles slightly as he hears the others closing in around the shaman. Dropping his crossbow, he draws his dagger and moves to close with the Gnoll.
"Someone get behind him, close off his retreat. Sergeant, crossbow cocked if he makes a break for it!"
Current HP: -7
Stabilize Check: Con DC 10
The gnoll recovered from Kevezyat's mighty slash much quicker than she had thought possible, dropping its crossbow and cutting the air with it's wicked sickle. Kevezyat felt a burning line travel up her side and then descended into darkness as her body fell to the ground.
Vhillish hustles ahead of the group taking point along the way, heralded by his own quartet of luminous orbs
Upon reaching the billet, the stoic serjeant covers the group's entry afore finally stepping in himself.
He reports to Damian, more out of habitual duty than necessity, but is sharp and officious in his reporting;
"All present and correct sah! Some walking wounded, and the dark elf lass is worse for wear... No malingerers that I can see lieutenant... Should I rustle up some hot scoff and a hot toddy for 'em all sah?"
Jerrid watches the mist dissipate and sees the fallen shaman. He doesn't reach for the strange curved sickle but tries to guess how much it is worth.
Later on when they all approach the stockade, Jerrid shouts out the name of Gerard. He follows Damien and the others in and spots the priest.
"Excuse me. Can you heal my drow? She got hit by a gnoll."
He leaves that problem to look for the Sheriff and his knights. Damien and Vhillish probably need to make a report to them
Damien scowls at Vhillish, "Would you stop bloody well calling me that!"
He looks around at the waystation, his gaze falling on the robed man by the fire, "A little warmth would do us all some good though. I imagine that one will be happy to share the fire. Better get to it ser...Vhillish."
Damien makes his way to the fire as Jerrid makes his request and moves off. He addresses the priest, "Mind a little company? As the short one pointed out, it's been a long night. A man of faith? If there is anything you could do for our companion it would be much appreciated...I sure the sheriff would compensate you for your efforts should you ask?"
Astor watches the gnoll go down and finally stops to catch his breath. Is this what it feels like? A mixture of tension and excitement rise up from inside of him. He looks around, watching everyone, how they react. Some seem to act like nothing has happened here, others wounded or tending to the wounds. In spite of it all, a smile creeps into a corner of his mouth. "Adventure... he whispers to himself. He looks down at the blood on his sword and wipes it on his pants. It's all becoming real.
Once arriving at the camp, Astor assumes that the rest of the group would tend to what needed to be done. He decided he needed to find himself a drink. Seeing the priest awake, he approaches him, seemingly ignoring Damien. "Excuse me, priest. Know somewhere in this place a man can find a drink?"
"The blessings of Freya upon you! Hurry, I think the lady is stable. Look after her please!"
Janna is glad to have finally made it to a place of security, well at least for now.
She stays back from the fire initially. scanning the sky for signs of a certain raven. she also watches the road as the gates close.
after the gates are closed Janna approaches someone manning the gates.
I am sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I believe that we may be pursued. I don't have much coin to offer but I can offer 30 gold coins if you could let me know before opening the gates for anyone else.
attempting to be polite and sincere, however her demeanor seems to indicate that whoever is in pursuit, she is worried about.
"I like the name Jerrid, sir not so keen on "the short one"," as the man takes over like a bull or stag rutting. He keeps looking into the fire to stop the words becoming a confrontation.
Then Jerrid gets up and keeps searching for that sheriff. He wanders about the wagons and carts, horses and people doing his best to look and not be noticed.
Where is the sheriff's special treasure that cost eight men their lives? Very special.
"Excuse me. Can you heal my drow? She got hit by a gnoll."
D..Dro..Dro..Drow? - Reply the young man. - This is very unnusual.
Do not judge by race or color, Leo. If this drow is traveling in the surface she might be diferent from the rest of his kind
Ok, I´ll Do it. Tyr allow the hand of your humble servitor to restore this wounded being
DM:
Vhillish nods at Damien's words stiffly;
"As you wish si-... Master Winters. Old habits and all that... No offence meant to the gentleman of course..."
The gnomes stiff upper lip twitches as his immaculately waxed moustache dances.
Been a long night. Lieutenant's always needed the steady hand... Being a civilian is like a full pack slog through the goblin badlands... Bloody murder but we'll get there. I for one won't let standards slip along the way...
Chin high the serjeant salutes almost defiantly before falling out.
Noting the priest the gnome smiles absently to himself
Prayers and a spot o' divine healing works wonders for morale. Always has, always will.
When Jerrid takes umbridge at his officer's description, Vhillish approaches his fellow gnome;
"Begging your pardon Master Jerrid. Believe the lieutenant was referring to me as the "short one". No offence meant I'm sure as it were a term of endearment in the 33rd... Like "longshanks" for lanky buggers like him. Ahem."
Janna smiles at the guard nodding that his suggestion will do.
she leans in a gives him a friendly kiss on the cheek thank so much
finished her conversation Janna returns to where the others are.
The gates will be secure till morning. how does everyone fare?
She looks to see if any have offered assistance to her group.
Jerrid stares up at the sergeant when Damien has left them. "You ain't short, Vhillish. You are big, like you have a bit of dwarf in your blood. Like all that crossbow shooting. No offence taken. Then. But your man treats words like clubs, throwing them around."
The deep gnome falls asleep by the fire when Leoven has tended to the fallen Kevezyat. He tries to find a spot near Astor. Again the sleep is fitful and he jerks about a little every hour or so, moaning to himself quietly.
Damien looks at Vhillish impassively as the gnome makes apologies for him, his gaze sharpening momentarily as the word lieutenant surfaces again. At Jerrid's reply, he merely shrugs and after a moment moves alongside the priest as he tends to Kevezyat.
Damien looks at Janna as she returns, nodding at her mention of the gates. He puts a hand on Leovan's shoulder, "Thanks to this man I believe she should be back on her feet in no time. Our thanks. Name's we...Damien."
He gestures to Janna, "This would be our employer..."
Vhillish stretches his collar and twitches slightly at Jerrid's words;
"Much appreciated Master Jerrid but no longbeard in the Quarrelwick family tree... less its deep in the roots! Don't mind the Lieutenant... just a tad rougher than most gentlemen of his status. Good man and a bleeding good officer..."
Conversation completed the serjeant lets his fellow gnome find peace in slumber, before he makes his final rounds and settles down himself.
Leoven seems to be uncomfortable with the half-elf proximity.
I am leoven, priest of thy high lord Tyr. And yes, I think the lady here will recover without problem. Anymore injured?
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Hadn't actually meant to jump in Jerrid, your post said you had already moved on to search for the Sheriff.
.....
Damien takes his hand away, "That's the extent of it. Despite the best efforts of some we were damn lucky tonight."
He looks at Kevezyat's wounds, "Damn fine work. Glad you're back among the living. We'd better settle in for the night."
Taking his leave of the others, Damien joins Vhillish at the fire as the sergeant returns from his rounds. The half-elf unpacks his bedroll, strips off his chain shirt begins the process of checking it for tears and oiling it. His movements have the feel of a long practiced routine.
He stops for a moment and regards Vhillish, gesturing to the scroll case from which the gnome had produced his and Damien's military records, "I distinctly remember telling you to burn those, Sergeant. At least he didn't look long enough to see my discharge papers..."
Vhillish readies his bedroll and gear in equally efficient manner.
Eying the scrollcase bearing the 33rd's coat of arms, the officious gnome allows himself a tell-tale wrinkle of his moustache before replying;
"Call me sentimental... Sir."
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Kevezyat awareness rises from the blackness, hearing first, the soft noises of a campsite, the calm even prayers beside her head. Her vision turns to grey then slowly she see the features of the priest kneeling by her,his hands passing the blessed healing into her wounded body.
Her eyes mere slits, the torchlight an unwelcome brightness after her sojourn near death she looked up and spoke, her voice hoarse "Tyr's blessings are most welcome, friend. May Freya protect you."
Levering herself up onto an elbow, she grimaced as the healed wounds in her sides complained of the sudden movement. "I take it the shaman met a well deserved fate? and we are currently in the way station?"
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Sam introduces himself to Leoven.
"I am Samduc, disciple of Freya. Many discount me for my youth, but some of us are called at a very early age. I also have studied many of the pantheon in great detail. I admire Tyr and those that worship him. The more practical say it is a lost cause, but I am quite the crusader."
He nods at the exchange of papers. "Yes, the military have a need to cling to their procedures, titles and image. In the eyes of Freya, they mean little. The fact that one of her holy warriors died was my number one concern."
Samduc rushes to the dark elf as she awakes and grabs one of her larger hands in both of his. "You are back in action holy warrior. We do not leave our own behind. This priest of Tyr has brought you back to take the field again. It is important to let it be known that if you are anyone's drow, it is Freya's!"
Sam introduces himself to Leoven.
"I am Samduc, disciple of Freya. Many discount me for my youth, but some of us are called at a very early age. I also have studied many of the pantheon in great detail. I admire Tyr and those that worship him. The more practical say it is a lost cause, but I am quite the crusader."
I think I can Identify me with that - Leoven Is very young too -
Janna gives the sky one last glance for any signs of Talon. before moving to a quiet place to rest seeking cover from aerial surveillance.
after a nights rest Janna approaches the young healer.
I owe you my thanks for helping me or maybe I should say us. she pulls out her pouch and counts out 30 gold coin.
A contribution to you church and thanks for your services. We need to make haste toward our destination. before...well lets just say I have important business that needs to be attended to. So Thank you again.
Janna then starts to take a stroll about the way station looking toward the top of the palisades and the branches of trees that may overlook the walls. another scan of the skies as she packs her belongings.
Kevezyat sits up as Loeven finishes his ministrations, her long arms were extended above her head in a lengthy stretch when she was interupted by Samduc's enthusiastic encouragement.
Using Samduc's grasp to pull herself to her knees , she meets the "little Boy's" gaze. "Your concern is appreciated, Samduc." she says smiling , then indicating Leoven "As you can see, Freya provides."
Gaining her feet, she pauses to allow Janna to thank the priest, then bows to Leoven ,saying formally "Kevezyat Faen. Paladin of Freya, at your service."
I owe you my thanks for helping me or maybe I should say us. she pulls out her pouch and counts out 30 gold coin.A contribution to you church and thanks for your services. We need to make haste toward our destination. before...well lets just say I have important business that needs to be attended to. So Thank you again.
Don't needed my lady. I am just a traveler and for now have not formal link with the chruch of Tyr
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Jerrid wakes Astor, the snoring was getting to him. He rarely sleeps long and never rises refreshed. The deep gnome checks his pillow, backpack, o make sure no one has stolen from him and then starts to make some tea.
While it boils, he irons the kinks out of his muscles with a few stretches and checks his weapons, carefully arranging the bullets into small piles into the best are near the top.
Finally he gets out his spellbook and tries to understand the sigils and symbols which he struggles to decipher. The gnome hands over mugs of tea to the others as they surface. In fact when the sergeant rises the tea is still not finished and so the pair can share a mug.
Once done, the wandering gnome is ready to travel on.
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Vhillish rises early and preps his equipment and gear before shaving and waxing his moustache. He gratefully accepts Jerrid's offer of tea;
"Coffee man myself, but a good cup of char is just the ticket on a morn such as this. Much appreciated Master Kinslarn."
The gnome checks the perimeter of the camp and at Leoven, the gnome formally introduces himself;
"Good Morning Reverend Father Leovan. Serjeant Arbalester Vhillish Quarrelwick at your service sir! Good to have you join our company. I have letters of commendation should you require to ascertain the character of myself and my... former lieutenant... Master Winters, whom I believe you have met already?"
The officious serjeant momentarily eyes Damien, as he stands poker straight with a scrollcase of documentation tucked under his other arm like a parade ground pace stick.
Clearing his throat the gnome continues:
"(Ahem). Forgetting my manners sir! Would you care for a hot tea? Freshly brewed this morning by Master Kinslarn and just the thing to warm the bones..."
Once introductions and the inevitable chastisement from Damien has passed, Vhillish efficiently preps his weapons and falls in with group as they push for the waystation.
:
Focussing on the bridge through his crossbow sights, Vhillish fails to notice anything untoward or unusual about the situation.
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Don't needed my lady. I am just a traveler and for now have not formal link with the church of Tyr
I owe you my thanks for helping me or maybe I should say us. she pulls out her pouch and counts out 30 gold coin.A contribution to you church and thanks for your services. We need to make haste toward our destination. before...well lets just say I have important business that needs to be attended to. So Thank you again.
as you wish. but again thank you for your services.
Janna turns to leave. but stops after a few paces. turning back. she approaches Leoven again.
the last fight with some gnolls has apparently proven that we will be in need of your services in the future. We are heading toward fairhill, would you care to join us? at least for a bit. maybe further depending on what the others say.