After trading Maruusk the pick for the dagger: Gwendalyn holds the dagger to the fire, waiting impatiently for it to heat up. "Yes... Sajeek made nice with it, then we beat it up until it couldn't breathe. Unkind, but fast. Ow!" She dashes off, tossing the knife from one hand to the other.
Quinaweniel awaited the outcome of the hunt sitting by herself in a corner.
She has never been a very sociable girl, and while she understands the need to cooperate in a society,this sudden change in her life got the best of her and now she feels quite depressed.
When the other return with their game she join them around the dead deer.
"Congratulations everyone.I'll understand if you don't want to share with me this food;after all i took no part in the hunt."
The deer is dressed, parted out and transported into the cave using unprecedented teamwork for a motley crew of dissimilar races and vocations that were thrust together by the cruel machinations of fate.
With the snow you have water aplenty, and now with this kill you have meat for a solid week of eating your fill. Add to that the barrel of whiskey, ample firewood, clothing, remnants of the boat/raft, sail, a few odds/ends, and a highly defensible cave and things are looking up. One could start to get to know the others and start making plans for the future if one was so inclined.
Syn reveals a genius aptitude for cooking (tradeskill: baking, critical success) and in short order even the most jaundiced eye recognizes that he is the perfect elf for the job.
Tradeskill: Baking: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
The bard looks a tad sheepish by the praise since truth be told he did not even know he could cook.
As they moved the skinned and dismembered deer into their cave, Sajeek heard what Quinaweniel said. The vah shir stops, red tiger strips cut into his grey fur catching the fire light. Sajeek turns and looks at the elven women, confused. She had saved their lives with her summoned bread and water. Setting down his load with the rest of the deer, Sajeek walks over to the elf.
Sajeek hugs the elf, a deep, rumbling purr comes from the beastlord. The vah shir nuzzles the elves cheek. Giving her shoulders another squeeze, he lets go of the shy elf and takes a step back, still purring.
"Stop being silly," Sajeek teases, a smile splitting his muzzle. "Your magic food and water was the only reason we made it this far." Sajeek grin, his green eyes twinkling. "Besides, I wouldn't really expect you to hunt. I don't think you could run that far or fast," the young hunter says poking fun at the magic user.
As Syn begins to cook, his attention is draw by the smell of the cooking meat. Stomach rumbling, he wipes a bit of leaking drool from his muzzle.
It seems like another eternity while they wait for the meat to cook. Revery almost expects the Vah Shir to eat the meat raw, and is surprised at his relief when they too wait for it to cook.
He observes Syn seeming to guess as he cooks the meat, some fat on the side to make the flavor better, and prodding it to check it is cooked. Revery suggests saving as much of the fat as they can, as it could be used for torches or candles. He even retrieves a few torch-sized pieces of wood and constructs a few new torches, to be dripped on with this fat before it burns in the fire.
"In fact, all parts of the animal could be used by us. Ah, I'm sure Sajeek and Gwendalyn already know this better than I."
The truth is in the tasting, and the meat, though simple and unadorned, unaccompanied by wine or any vegetables, is the best he has ever had. He realizes this is in part because of the starvation he's recently experienced, but it doesn't reduce the pleasure. It is simply the best.
"If I were a jester I might have suggested I would live here for the rest of my days, cleaning out this... home, hunting and gathering and eating snow. As it is, though, my mind turns to practical matters, and I wanted to say that after we eat, we should divide the meat into more meal-sized portions, and preserve some of it in snow inside the cave, and smoke the rest of it. I'm sure Sajeek knows better than I, but I suspect smoked it will be lighter, more practical to transfer, last much longer, and be much easier to eat if one is traveling."
Gwendalyn smiles and nods at Revery's suggestions. "I was going to suggest smoking the meat, but you beat me to it. We should cure the hide too, if we can. The bones can be used to flavor a vegetable soup, and slivers can be used for needles. Sinew can be used for string, whether for sewing clothes or making a bow, or for fishing line. I'm not sure how much I could actually do without my tailoring kit, mind you; that's just what I've heard. But if nothing else, the hide would make a clean blanket, and something that we could trade if we find a settlement somewhere."
"Packing meat in snow inside the case would only work if we stopped heating it as much, which is a good idea anyway. The more wood we use, the sooner we have to go further, which is more dangerous. We can huddle together for warmth at night like on the raft, but with more clothing and less water. Or splinters. Or sharks."
The shaman pauses, gathering her thoughts. "But we have time now to think about something more than just immediate survival. What are we going to do now, and how are we going to do it? I'd like to find my brother Tudan again, and let him know that I'm alright. I'd also like to continue exploring the world like before, except with a very personal grudge against slavers. Not to mention, a bath and clean clothes would be nice. Maybe explore a little more every day, while also working on making this place nicer, just in case we're very far away from anywhere else?"
Marcus's is about to respond to Quin, but Sajeek beats him to it. Instead, he smiles (possibly unsettling with his predatory grin) and nods. "We all played our part, and will continue to do so. Even Syn, in his weakened condition is able to throw in and cook what smells to be the best venison I've ever had."
He turns to Sajeek and bows formally at the waist, "Many thanks for hunting this game, though then end was not as clean as you wanted, know it gave its life so we may live, and I will not throw that sacrifice away - may the Ancestors take me."
Hearing Gwen's comments, he says, "I would find my father and his caravan, to let him know how I fare as well. I would need to work my way back to where we arrived..." He shakes his head, chagrin painted on his face. "If I could remember... Perhaps rest and time will bring it back to me."
He sits and par takes of the first real food in what seems forever, his thoughts on family and home...
"I need the trappings of civilization. This making camp business may build my character, but I still would not choose it over a safe house, a proper stove, and a book or ten to peruse. To me, that would be heaven," says Revery quietly.
"But my friend, Marsus, whom I was traveling with, may still be alive, even enslaved, and I should like to find him. I have no close family alive, only a sister who has .... taken a darker path." He looks at the ground when he says this. But the dark arts, and some of the things they are rumored to do, make him think of how he really ought to behave.
Sajeek enjoys his cooked meal, chewing slowly. Normally, he prefered his meat raw, fresh from the hunt. The beastlord doubted that the others shared his taste for meat, so he remained silent. The deer meat the Syn had cooked was delicious.
Listening to the others, Sajeek nods in agreement with the plans of drying the meat, and then exploring a little bit to figure out where they were. As he listens to the others talk, the beastlord wonders why the spirits pulled him away from his search. Unless they were actually guiding him closer to his foster parents.
Sajeek returns Maruusk's bow with a nod, smiling at the vah shir. He looks back at the others, the beastlord's green eyes reflecting the fire light.
"Personally, I was planning to return to the Plains of Karana, to continue my search for my foster parents," Sajeek scratches under his chin. "I am beginning to think the spirits guided my path more then I had thought." Sajeek pauses for a few moments. "I am curious to know were we landed though," the vah shir muses outloud, taking another bite of his venison steak.
"Me too," says Reverie. "But I can't tell, any closer than 'in or near the Timorous Deep'. If we're on an island, it will likely be a while before we can find our way home. Perhaps when we get a starry night we'll be able to better estimate our location."
Gwendalyn nods. "Too true -- and in the meantime, we need better and tactics. And weapons. If we hadn't gotten lucky, that deer could've gotten away; I should've cast Flash of Light on it to begin with, and the same goes if we're the ones that want to escape."
"As for weapons... well." She looks down at her ogrish ensemble. "Call it inspiration, but I'd like to try something bigger, more like a greatclub. Think we could improvise that from what we have here?"
Quina thanks Sajeek,and the others, for the kind words "I shouldn't have,you are right.I never felt so depressed,must be the distance i'm from Felwithe and my family,and the uncertainty of our future."
She manages a smile,then sits down with her new friends.
"My compliments to the cook,it tastes delicious compared to summoned bread.Speaking of weapons,what crafting skills we have? I know nothing of blacksmithing,and i see no forge nearby anyway.We need to shape wood,roks and bones at least."
Winds moan as they tear across the cave entrance, but you are so insulated from their fury that it feels like it is happening to someone else.
The weapons that can be made are the ones that are generally free, such as sling, club or quarterstaff. Other weapons require that the crafter have training in the proper tradeskills and the proper materials/tools at one's disposal.
Syn nods at the suggestion to prepare pieces of meat in a different way, though his attention has been diverted as he tries to bash down bits of the goblin's remains, so it stops leering at him. Using a few pieces of decking to hang the meat in between the prised open jaws of the bear trap, and some fresh wet leaves tossed onto the fire, he starts to smoke the venison. The bard has a quizzical look on his face as he work, as he watches his hands work independent of his brain, but looks happy to contribute something. A wad of meat has been jammed into his cheek and the wood elf/chipmunk avows, "I appear to be one hell of a cook!" Syn is as surprised as anyone else, though he is fully enjoying the repast.
Smoke fills the high chamber and finds its way out of the soot-stained hole in the ceiling. The smell of burned goblin flesh/hair still lingers in the chamber, though it is nothing compared to the stench of offal and urine that is only getting worse the longer the fire rages.
A decision will need to be made on how much to eat and burn. Will the group live high on the hog, or will they just barely get by. Can everyone be trusted to follow those expectations?
The deerskin has ragged slashes, where a vah shir's claws tore into its side, but it is a fine skin. It will fetch a price and will make a good mat to lie and sit upon.
9 torches are formed consisting of sail dipped in the drippings of fat caught by Revery's attentions. The bard looks confused on how he would catch the drippings without burning them.
If meat is to be stored in the snow then snow will need to be imported and placed as far from the fire as is possible.
Gwendalyn tries to hide a smile at Syn's surprised declaration. "You're an amazing cook! But we don't just mean smoking for flavor. We mean not cooking at all, really, or so slowly that it hardly counts."
The outdoorsy Halasite stands up and walks around the fire, gesturing. "See, if we build a kind of frame around the fire to keep the meat further away, and use greener wood that doesn't burn as well -- smokier, and not as hot -- then it won't so much cook as just kind of dry out over the course of a few days, maybe a week. And the smoke will soak in, which somehow keeps it from spoiling."
The young woman bounces happily. "This has been a wonderful meal! The best ever!" She sobers. "But we don't know when the next meat will come along. We need to save as much as possible for later, for traveling, once we figure out where we are. Bread and water will keep us alive, but we need at least a little meat to stay healthy." She says this with all of the confidence of a Northerner whose plants really weren't up to the job.
Revery goes outside and looks at the hill or mountain their cave is in. He tries to see if there is an easy path to climb up to the top, or at least to where the smoke leaves from. He wants to get a high vantage point so that he can see as far as possible, but he does not plan on climbing up there just yet unless it's only a short and easy climb.
Feeling fuller then he had in recent memory, Sajeek leans against the wall, belching contently. The young Beastlord's green eyes lazily move about the room.
Syn seemed to have the smoking of the meat under control, and Sajeek didn't think he needed to stick his nose in. The elf obviously knew his way around foor. Which was probably for the best. Sajeek knew how to dry out meat, but it wasn't something that he had much call for in the past. He just hunted for himself when he needed food.
Watching as Revery leaves, Sajeek's ears flicker, almost curious enough to follow him out in to the freezing cold. Almost.
Revery braves the storm and the longer he stands the more he sees. The rocks above the cave clamber up the mountain until they find a tight crevice. It is from this rending of the stone that the smoke drifts from. It looks as if the ceiling carving had either revealed, or widened a natural hole in the ceiling.
The climb would be treacherous in the ice and snow (DC 15 climb check), and suicide in the storm (DC 25 climb check) that batters the erudite about.
It is a mountain, so vantage points are everywhere for those brave or foolish enough to clamber up high enough.
Maruusk watches Revery as e walks outside. "By the Spirits... Is he trying to kill himself or bring things here? We know something was watching us last night..." Growling, he moves to the entrance. "Revery, you should get back in here before you freeze or bring a predator to us..."
He fingers the dagger, watching the tree line. "We can scout when there's a break n this storm! Right now, it's suicide to try to climb anything..."
Looking into the storm, he wonders if he'll ever see us parents again. "By the Ancestors, I hate the caravan, but I'd be happy there right now..."
The cold is two things to a Halasite. On the one hand, it's an ever-present danger, if you should end up out in it long enough unprotected. On the other hand, it's an ever-present discomfort; if you know that you're going to be warm again soon enough, then hunching serves no purpose but to make you look silly and weak. From the time that she was old enough to care what other kids thought, Gwendalyn practiced setting aside the discomfort, until it was second nature.
The tall shaman takes a break from trying to fashion bits from the deer into a sling like what her brother used when he was younger, and goes outside for a drink. Forcing herself to relax despite the storm, Gwendalyn releases a little bit of whisky into one hand and laps it up like a cat, licking the last of it off of her hand, then sighs. "That hits the spot."
Days drift past, providing ample opportunities for rest and recovery. Wood is recovered from the trees and you survive a simple existence without undue strife or conflict.
(please post any activities you have been busying yourself with during the days)
Syn's leg gets better, and eventually he is gingerly limping about with the aid of an impromptu oar/crutch that Khae built for him.
The mischievous bard takes his share of the watches, as does the mute cleric, though one cannot really fight and the other cannot yell.
Around the highest point of the sun you feel the first break in the weather. A tiny shaft of diffused light tentatively explores the ground outside of your cave. Once it is confident that all is safe it whistles and invites so many of its friends to join in the fun. The first to poke their head out of the cave needs to squint for several seconds until their eyes adjust.
Those with wilderness skills (1 rank in wilderness lore) understand that Spring is not that far away.
The young Beastlord spends as much time as the weather permits him outside of the cave. Several times, Sajeek comes back to the cave half-frozen after being gone for long hours. The vah shir is cautious in his exploration, not knowing what type of predators roam these lands. Of course, Sajeek had a slight advantage being able to communicate with the neighboring wildlife.
When it came to hunting for food, Sajeek stuck to his skills as a hunter, rather then rely on his beastlord gifts to get prey. Sajeek also enjoys the hunt more then just about anything. It let him strip away the mental dressing he had grown used to adopting when around others. On his own, Sajeek returns to the feral hunter that the vah shir had grown up as.
Making his way outside for his daily exploration (which sometimes ended up with some small game), Sajeek stops in mid-crawl. A bright beam of sunlight cut through the drab winter clouds. Scrambling out of the crawlway, Sajeek stands up, shading his eyes and looks around. Blinking his raidly tearing eyes rapidly, the young vah shir's smiles threatens to split his furred face.
Sajeek stands in the (relativly) warm sunlight, just enjoying the break from the storms and blowing snow.
Revery spends time doing two main things... First, he tries to figure out, based on the stars and sun and moon, where they are. He really wishes he had paper and a quill, so that the calculations would be easier, but it is a good mental exercise to do them in his head. Still, his head is starved for things to read and learn.
Second, he spends some time cleaning out the cave. To do this he first digs a hole in the snow, or the ground if he can, and then he carefully moves the non-useful and smelliest things from the cave to the hole. The feces would burn, but they seemed to have a sufficient supply of wood, so there is no need to keep the smelly crap. If someone protests, he will ask them why... After this he'll try to wash some of the rags and use them to clean up the space somewhat.
Also during this time, Revery will suggest the men all go together to take a "bath" in the sea. They can wash their horrible clothes, and themselves, and then quickly re-dress and rush to warm themselves and their clothing by the fire. Then the women can do that too, though they can go first if they like.
After using the rusty dagger to shape one board into a scoop and another into a sweep, Gwendalyn is delighted to discover that Revery is even more motivated to move the goblin poo from the cave than she is.
The canny shaman approves of Revery's suggestion that the men bathe in the sea, and then makes a plan of attack. She re-assembles the frame that they used for smoking the venison, gathers a couple of birch boughs of vihta (or the closest thing she can find) and a few smooth pieces of driftwood, then stokes the fire, declaring that it will be plenty hot to warm up the men when they get back.
Sweating some from the unaccustomed heat, Gwen springs into action once the men are gone. "Swiftly! Clothes off, scrub clothes in the snow with the driftwood, and put them on the rack. Scrub yourself with the vihta and roll in snow to rinse off, maybe repeat, then warm up again while your clothes dry. Should be cleaner faster and no salt!"
Quinawenial isn't really in her environment,so she mostly limited herself to follow the others and not speaking very much.
She welcomes the idea of having a bath,more than ever if she can have a bit of privacy in doing so.
"I bet Gwendalyn is right too,salt water isn't really good to wash oneself.But i'm afraid i'll freeze to death with the halasite's solution."
Plumes of air can be seen leaving your mouth. For those not from northern climes this is something that is difficult to get used to. Spring remains weeks away, but winter will not give up without a fight.
The beastlord had successfully drawn in some wild game and some edible plants. While foraging, Sajeek catches a glimpse of a human-sized form picking its way high atop the mountain range hundreds of feet above the cave. It might be passed off as a visual anomaly, or perhaps wishful thinking, but then he sees it again on a different day. Something perfectly suited to this environment lives far above the cave.
Revery determines that the group occupies a large island southwest of the lost continent of Kunark. Their cave is near the southern tip of the island.
The cave becomes more habitable thanks to the erudite's efforts, as the others become cleaner due to the barbarian's.
You each feel much more human as you find yourself relatively clean and not occupying a cave caked in filth. Perhaps that is why the attack was so unexpected.
Sajeek, on watch at the time, easily catches the sound of approaching footsteps (critical success) from within the tree line, long before the risk can be realized.
Listen: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
The vah shir glances back and realizes that everyone else is within the cave. Only he stands outside, though he is not far from the entrance (can get back within as a full round movement action).
Revery says to the others. "Well, according to my calculations we're quite far away from where I originally thought. You've probably noticed how the stars are different here? It's because we're southwest of Kunark, on an island in all likelihood. Perhaps near Vellious. Since we're on the southern tip of the island, we may well be in the island's coldest place. If we end up being stuck here for a year or more -- I know that sounds awful, but I don't see how we will get off the island -- if we're stuck here, we might think about relocating to the north during the summer months."
He relaxes in his less-dirty-than-before-but-still-filthy clothes, and hopes Sajeek will bring in some more of those root vegetables he brought earlier.
<opens wide her eyes in surprise>
"What was that ship doing so far from Freeport? Apart from insignificant questions, going north will only do us good as long as we have ground under our feet.How large is this island? And if i'm not wrong Kunark and Vellious are very dangerous lands."
Quinaweniel snorts discouraged
"From bad to worst!"
Spotting the man sized being breaking from the treeline, Sajeek turns and moves to teh caves entrance, crouching down. Hissing to get everyones attention, he leans his head in.
"Something approaches," Sajeek calls into the cave. "Get ready."
Turning, Sajeek looks back at the treeline, keeping an eye on the approaching figure.
Gwendalyn startles at Sajeek's warning and calls back. "Well if you think it might attack, then get in here! Make it attack you wriggling on its belly, and with all of us to back you up! Who wants the ambush shelf?" The tall shaman grabs her club and casts Inner Fire on Maruusk.
Maruusk spends the days scouting around and helping Reverry or Sajeek with their efforts. He seems quiet, even reserved. He seems to be thinking pensively as he work on the firewood, foraging and scouting.
When Sajeek says that something approaches, he says, "Did you get a look at it? What are we up against? Should be confront it outside where we can surround it?"
He moves to the entrance, dropping into the shadows to hide and peer outside.
Hide 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
Sneak 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Sajeek had not seen the owner of the foot falls, but he remains outside, which affords the opportunity to be first.
Two goblins, one tall as a man, and another matching the size of the one that the party killed previously depart the tree line. They are in conversation, having focused their efforts on dragging their kill back to the cave, and as such have not notice the party yet.
The duo are but 40' away.
(post one round's actions before the goblins notice the group)
As Revery casts Strengthen on her, Gwendalyn feels a blessing from the Tribunal settle on her and enhance it -- but unlike the spell, the blessing settles into her bones. Flush with a sense of vigor that she never felt before, the healthy young Halasite exults in her body's newfound strength.
The riptide brethren approach, oblivious to the danger ahead, as the group busies itself preparing for the potential combat. It is the little one that spots the danger first. 30' from the cave entrance he digs in his heels and stares wide-mouthed at the beastlord so casually leaning down in front of their cave. The larger of the two, and the only one that is armed, raises her blueish-green head and starts charging in with a line of spittle dragging away from her feral snarl.
The wickedly-barbed longspear, which had been used to so efficiently kill the giant seal the duo was dragging back to their lair, looks even larger as the goblin seeks to toss it through the vah shir.
Mouth still hanging agape the diminutive goblin stands next to the fresh kill and watches the scene unfold with wide eyes.
Crouching near the whiskey keg, which stands in plain sight next to the cave, Sajeek's eyes widen as the big goblin charges him. At the sight of her feral snarl, the beastlords own muzzle twists into a feral smile. 'And now, a bit of fun,' he things savagly, flexing his claws.
Rising up from his crouch, Sajeek stands ready to face the charging goblin, while the others climb out of the cave. Standing loosely, green eyes on the charging goblin, Sajeek prepares to move out of the way of the spear and let the charging gob get in close. The savage smile upon the feral beastlord's face was anything but pleasant.
going on full defensive
Revery stands near the exit of the cave, but leaves plenty of room for Maruusk or Gwendalyn or Syn to go past first. He tries to position himself so that he can see Sajeek and potentially cast a spell on any who attack him.
Khae grabs a torch, jams it in the fire, and brings more light into the cave. Keeping the fire low had worked for ensuring that the group did not rapidly expend their dwindling supply of wood, but it did little for illumination and warmth.
Syn hobbles, reliant on his oar/crutch to get around, on the best of days. In combat he will likely be less than useless.
The drift of days have found Revery to be the only member of the ragged party that is saved from the burden of carrying their shackles around with them, though most have wrapped the chain with clothing from the goblin’s nest, a piece of sail, or a length of rope. Once the cold steel is held away from your flesh it can be securely tied to your leg. Even the erudite’s skin is worn raw, leaving permanent scarring, though the others bear fresher wounds. You will all have a reminder of this ordeal etched into your flesh for the rest of your days.
Gwendalyn waits for Maruusk to move so she can embark on her own exodus from the cave, but he stands with jaw agape, a little line of drool fighting free of the corner of his mouth (missed action). The barbarian has the choice to wait for the vah shir to wake from his reverie, or to slide forward ahead of him (add decision/action into your next post as well as your next round actions).
Mid-run the goblin lets out an anguished scream as its blood boils. Quinaweniel's blood runs cold as well when she notices that four goblin eyes fix upon her, if only for a fleeting second. She has identified herself as a threat, and even the protection of a mountain shield does not feel like enough.
Fort Save vs. Burst of Flame: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Those within the cave crouch to look through the claustrophobically tight 3' wide, and as much as 1' high, soot-stained entrance (only one can fit through at a time, takes 1 move action to navigate the entrance). Your legs butt up against the sharp 3' drop off that needs to be hopped up upon if one wants to leave the cave. This provides a measure of protection for those within (20% concealment). The ambush ledge, that Gwendalyn mentioned, remains unused (Cave Map).
Sajeek prepares his every move to avoid the oncoming attack (total defence +4 to AC).
The first attack is a surprising one, since it comes from the unarmed smaller goblin. His hands wave and the words of magic slip forth from his tiny lungs.
Attack recipient (By alpha): 1d7 ⇒ 7
A column of flame crosses the expanse from the goblin's outstretched hand and hits Syn dead centre in the chest. He tries to move aside, but his lack of mobility comes back to rear its ugly head. The bard falls to the ground and is still. Khae tosses the torch and moves off to tend to the hopefully unconscious wood elf.
Reflex save: 1d20 ⇒ 13
Tears stain the dwarf's bear and you realize that Syn is no more.
A wicked smile plays across the smaller goblin's face, and suddenly you have a good idea what the source of the soot in the cave entrance is.
Those that wonder about the spell glean much:
The attack on Sajeek (charge +2 to attack, -2 to AC) is vicious, but just barely misses the defensive vah shir. Unknown words spill forth from her acidic tongue, and even though the beastlord cannot understand what she is saying, the intent is obvious: it would not make her sad if a kraken ate his face.
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
(end of round, start of new round)
(tag PC actions)
Revery is at first surprised at the big fire coming from the little goblin, but realizes he must act quickly. "Get the small one!" he yells, in hopes someone will agree and rush at the wizard goblin.
He recites his incantation and directs it at the closer, larger opponent. He would prefer to have done it to the spellcaster, but he is too far away.
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2 Plus loss of 2 STR, 2 DEX.
Save: Fort DC 19 for half damage and no ability loss.
When Gwendalyn reaches the entrance of the cave, she finds Maruusk standing stunned. Staying behind the agile Vah Shir that she buffed, the young shaman encourages him sympathetically. "Think later, act now."
A column of flame explodes from the smaller goblin into the cave, Syn falls, and Khae cries. Gwen has no idea what spell the little monster cast, but it doesn't really matter. She trusts Revery's judgment on matters magical, and casts the spell that she should've cast on that first deer, attempting to blind the flame-throwing fiend.
That done, Gwendalyn turns her attention to the bigger goblin right there, and moves toward the little one as far as she can without making herself too vulnerable to that long, wicked spear -- even if that means not moving at all.
Flash of Light on the small goblin spellcaster, DC 15 Fortitude save negates
Move out as much as possible without incurring an AoO
The elf fires another fire projectile to her previous target.
Fort DC17 half
Recognizing the spell that killed Syn,Quina shouts,both in sorrow and desperation:
"That was a high level wizard spell.We have no chances with this foe!!!!!!!"
Everyone's blood runs cold as soon as Quinaweniel identifies your foe as a powerful wizard. Not only are wizards the masters of evocation, with the ability to efficiently engage targets hundreds of feet away, but they are also the masters of area of effect magic. Against this goblin huddling together under cover is about as effective as attacking a hurricane with a kite.
The large female goblin clutches at her throat, but her constitution is equal to the task and throws off the majority of the enchanter's spell.
Fort Save vs. Shallow Breath: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Perhaps it is the distraction of fighting off the spell, or the accuracy of the beast lord's claws, but Sajeek finds purchase in goblin flesh, leaving clean lines across her naked torso.
Fort Save vs. Flash of Light: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
The tiny goblin wizard screams and clutches at its eyes as the shaman's spell crosses the expanse to the edge of its range and stabs into the wizard's face.
Gwendalyn is able to move out of the cave (move action) without being impaled.
Quinaweniel focuses on the female goblin. Her attack is incredibly effective, and the large female spear-bearer eyes the tree line wondering if a retreat is in order. She is obviously heavily damaged by the myriad of attacks that have been launched at her.
Fort Save vs. Burst of Flame: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
A wicked spear snaps forward with impossible accuracy and finds the vah shir's flesh.
Spear Attack vs. Maruusk: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Spear Damage vs. Maruusk: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
The attack is nearly perfectly placed, but the vah shir is able to twist his body enough to only receive a glancing blow. The exchange is enough to speak of the goblin's incredible strength and reassure Sajeek that he does not wish to be at the end of that spear once again.
Even blinded the little goblin is not out of the fight, though it picks one of the most agile members of the party to direct its attack against. The rogue scampers aside easily (missed vs. touch AC), not that it would have hit him anyway (concealment). Glancing at the tree, which is fully aflame everyone recognizes the truth of both Revery and Quinaweniel's words. This foe is beyond all of you, and no one would have survived that attack. To further ignore the wizard is to do so at your peril.
Attack recipient (by alpha) 1d6 ⇒ 3 (Maruusk)
Fire Bolt vs. Maruusk: (Ranged Touch Attack) 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
Fire Bolt vs. Maruusk: 4d8 ⇒ (8, 3, 4, 7) = 22
Reflex Save vs. Fire Bolt: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
50% Concealment: 1d100 ⇒ 83
(end of round, start of new round)
(tag PC actions)