"Very sensible advice I think. Now, does anyone recall anything about these flying creatures?"
Ynyr rolls up his sleeves.
Two large stirges fly out of the trees and attack Healaugh and Ddraig, their long proboscises seeking out tender flesh...
The nimble halfling dodges, but the dragonborn's armour is not enough against the fine snout of his foe, which latches on.
Initiative
Macmoor 18
Ynyr 17
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Ddraig 15 - Grabbed until escape, ongoing 5 damage (until escape)
Ghadmyr 9
Healaugh 8
Dire Stirges 19
- Green dot
- Purple dot (Grabbing Ddraig)
Ynyr shifts adjacent to Ghadmyr and hurls his trusty dagger at the stirge attached to Ddraig.
Macmorr duck out nimbly, axe swinging, before quickly retreating back to his companions.
Wasting no time or words Ynyr and Macmoor start the counter-attack. The stirges swarm, stabbing some of the band and latching on.
Initiative
Ddraig 15 - Grabbed until escape by dire stirge, ongoing 5 damage (until escape), grabbed until escape by stirge, ongoing 1 damage (doesn't stack with dire stirge damage)
Ghadmyr 9 grabbed until escape by stirge, ongoing 1 damage
Healaugh 8 grabbed until escape by stirge, ongoing 1 damage
Dire Stirges 19
- Green dot
- Purple dot (Grabbing Ddraig)
Macmoor 18
Ynyr 17
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Ddraig spews forth draconic indignance:
Dragon Breath v The Three Sturges: (1d20+8=19, 1d6+2=6, 1d20+8=15, 1d6+2=3, 1d20+8=25, 1d6+2=5)
He then swings at the Sturge holding him (Larry):
Valiant Strike on Purple Sturge (Larry): (1d20+13=20, 1d8+5=12)
Then, he tries to save against being grabbed:
"Why I oughtta ..."
Ddraig's breath puts paid to 2 stirges and he manages to tear off the bigger one.
Initiative
Ddraig 15
Ghadmyr 9 grabbed until escape by stirge, ongoing 1 damage
Healaugh 8 grabbed until escape by stirge, ongoing 1 damage
Dire Stirges 19
- Green dot
- Purple dot
Macmoor 18
Ynyr 17
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Ghadmyr conjures an icy wind to buffet the stirges.
Healaugh grabs the stirge by the snout and pulls it off him.
"Get out of it. Can't be doing with bloodsuckers," he bellows.
His shout has a curious effect on the surrounding wildlife and his allies.
Between the icy magic of Ghadmyr and the mystic bellowing of the halfing bard, the battlefield has changed dramatically. Allies have been shoved by the thunderous shout of Healaugh and stirges lie dead from ice and noise.
The wounded dire stirge flaps and flees, whilst its fellow tries to suck up Healaugh's vital fluids, failing as the halfing dodges aside.
Initiative
Macmoor 18
Ynyr 17
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Ddraig 15
Ghadmyr 9
Healaugh 8
Dire Stirges 19
- Green dot
Ynyr shuffles to Macmorr's right and throws a half-hearted dagger at the menacing stirge.
"Of you go now and don't be bothering us, do you see. Work we are doing, so do not interfere."
Macmorr insinuates himself back in the fray.
Initiative
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Ddraig 15
Ghadmyr 9
Healaugh 8
Dire Stirges 19
- Green dot Bloodied
Macmoor 18
Ynyr 17
The battle descends into flapping chaos.
Initiative
Ddraig 15
Ghadmyr 9
Healaugh 8
Dire Stirges 19
- Green dot Bloodied
Macmoor 18
Ynyr 17
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Healaugh swats randomly at the stirges and misses spectacularly.
"Bloodsucking things. Can't be doing with that. Off tha goes."
Ghadmyr shifts to the side and calls lightning upon the stirge that attacked him.
Another stirge bites the dust.
Ddraig lashes out at the nearest Stirge (v AC):
Radient Smite v Stirge: (1d20+10=18, 2d8+6=13)
"Begone, foul fiend!"
The stirge is well and truly smote.
Healaugh flaps his arms and waves his javelin at the stirges.
"Go on, get away," he mutters.
Initiative
Macmoor 18
Ynyr 17
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Ddraig 15
Ghadmyr 9
Healaugh 8
Dire Stirges 19
- Green dot Bloodied
"I am not liking these things at all. Pesky nuisances, do you know."
With a deft flick of the wrist, Ynyr brings the stirge to the ground.
Initiative
Macmoor 18
Stirges 15 (all red dots)
Ddraig 15
Ghadmyr 9
Healaugh 8
Ynyr 17
Macmor reduces one of the stirges to pulp and then howls in triumph at his (minor) victory.
The stirge is now so much goo. The other one flees.
Ddraig lunges at the fleeing stirge:
Opportunity Attack: (1d20+10=20, 1d8+5=10)
"And where do you think you're going?"
Nowhere it seems, as the last stirge is cut down.
"Tha can coom out now, Yara. Moving on, like."
The group rests, Yara kicking a stirge or two. Followign the trail north, the group comes to the crossroads. To the west lies the way out of the Dark Forest, to the north lies the trail where the bear prints were found. The group hears a peculiar screeching roar along the northern trail.
The group makes its way out of the environs of the woods and comes to a post manned by elves. They ululate with joy at the sight of the boar, and are eager for the story of its defeat (as they assume).
The night passes uneventfully in the safety of their camp, and you awake refreshed.
Yara is agape at the elves but soon comes to appreciate their handsome, if alien, qualities. They advise you to make best speed to bring the boar to the king.
And so, word of your deeds spreads (or rather rumours of them) as common folk see you with the boar's head. You are welcomed without any ado into the court of the Ri Conn. He is as good as his word, and thanks you for bringing him Muirish's killer. He is amazed by the story of what happened in Shivnar's fortress, and declares a feast in your honour.
The feast lasts for three days and three nights; the boar's head is burnt outside the Ri's fortress and the ashes are widely scattered. The story of the white boar is repeated each night in your honour.
At dawn on the fourth day, the Ri brings you all to a granite stone at the centre of the kingdom. Sitting in the thronelike seat, he mutters an incantation, and each of you feels something outside yourselves join with you. To outside observers the whole scene is bathed in light, and to each other, you all seem to be swathed in a glowing nimbus.
Healaugh
"Master Healaugh, we must stop meeting like this." the goddess says mock-seriously, "It seems, little fisherman, that despite your best efforts, adventure had a habit of finding you. Perhaps this will help..."
Ynyr thinks hard and asks for a useful belt.
Potion Bandolier (level 8)
This wide brown leather baldric keeps potions in easy reach.
Power (At-Will):
Price: 3,400 gp
Item Slot: Waist
Property: This belt can hold up to six potions. You can retrieve a potion from the belt as a free action.
Brigid-lass
The halfling bows deeply and beams at his own personal deity. "Happen tha's in reet of it, our Brigid. Taking bit of chance seems to be way of life now. Reet glad to know tha's got eye on mesen. Not much of a lad for words, but skald in me'll find way to thank tha proper-like."
DM
Ddraig
"Great Dragon, well you are named. Your desire to fight for the right, without question or pause has not gone un-noticed. Long may you continue to shield the weak from the strong."
Macmoor
He merely nods in an appreciative manner, and you feel great strength course through your limbs,
Ghadmyr
"Soar as the eagles, lover, son, and friend."
Ynyr
"Bit of a blowhard, old Shivnar, couldn't have him breeding firey warmachines, could we? Still, I suppose it would have been easier if we'd chosen a form with hands for our messenger. He wasn't best pleased when he got back..."
"Ah yes, a gift. Here, catch!" He throws a goblet which has miraculously appeared again at Ynyr.
Lugh
Ynyr's polite lecture trails off as he realises that explaining things to a god may not be the most sensible thing he has ever done. He takes the goblet gratefully.
"So I should be choosing very carefully now so that I do not make any foolish mistakes with this mighty gift."