The next morning, you are all promptly awaken by a squire from the Swordlords, and informed that it was time to depart. Each of you are assigned an aide to help you gather your things and get on the road quickly. As you make your way outside, you are greeted by Jamandi Aldori and a dwarf clad in full plate. The dwarf is busy moving wagon to wagon barking orders at workers.
Jamandi makes his way over and says, "This is Dolgrin Girndmar, a priest of Torag. He has been hired to oversea the construction of the fort once you select a proper location. However, I think it would be wise to take his advice on defensible locations and design, he is quite skilled at what he does. But ultimately, the decision is yours. Follow this road to it's end at Oleg's Trading Post, but do not linger there...you have a long way to travel yet from that point. Once you cross the East Sellen, you've arrived at the Slough. Dolgrin knows the way to the crossing, should navigation prove too difficult."
As you make final preparations and depart town, you can see behind you the other group exiting the Inn and preparing to travel as well. They, however, do not have the luxury of wagons to travel by.
It is about noon the first day of travel that you arrive at Nivatka's Crossing, a town of tradesmen, hunters, fishermen, and trappers. The village itself is surrounded by a wooden palisade and is set on the northeastern bank of the Shrike River. A low bridge allows access over the river here to the south - the southwestern side of the bridge being fortified by well-manned guard towers.
By the end of the second day, you arrive at Oleg's Trading Post, it appears to be a run down fort. It is surrounded by a ten foot palisade, at each corner are 20-foot-square watchtowers, each armed with run-down catapults. There appears to be only one entrance through the palisade - a thirty foot wide wooden gate. Oleg at first seems warm and friendly, but once he learns of your intent to travel on, and that you are not some "reinforcements" he is expecting, he grows bitter and surly. His wife Svetlana, however, maintains a welcoming charm and makes sure you all have adequate sleeping arrangements for the night and full bellies.
The next morning hails the beginning of cross country travel, slightly slower than what you were accustomed to with the roads, but fortunately the ground is relatively level so the slower pace is only marginally noticeable. After two more days of travel and a night of camp, you arrive at the crossing of the East Sellen River as the sun prepares to set in the distance.
"Well, lads an' lasses, what say ye? Camp on 'is side fer tha night, or cross o'er and make camp thar?" Dolgrin asks as the caravan comes to a halt.
"It's just some water, let's go." Sasha says, pushing forward, leading his horse, Wanderer, across the river. By sheer dumb luck he manages to choose the right spot to ford the river, and winds up on the opposite side a little more wet, but none the worse for the wear. "See, easily done," he shouts back across the water.
Dolgrin signals for the wagons to follow in Aleksandr's path across the river. At one point one of the wagons appears to slip and begin to float downstream, but it's handlers manage to right it quickly and get it back on track.
In about thirty minutes time, the entire caravan has crossed the river.
"Good eye, lad, good eye," Dolgrin says. "So wha' now? It's a gettin' late. Make camp 'ere fer the night?"
Serafina smiles widely as the handsome half-elf expertly weaves his way across the shallow portion of the river. She spurs her mount forward, taking care to use the same path, lest her mount lose its footing and get dragged downstream.
On the other side, after the wagons have all made it across, she listens to Dolgrin, then raises her hand in a halting gesture. "Let us halt for the night. Our destination goes nowhere, and we should remain well-rested and alert." She flashes a quick smile at the dwarven priest, then dismounts, getting her things ready to get settled in for the night.
"Stay, go, whatever." Sasha says, shrugging. "Here's as fine a spot as any."
Dolgrin nods and puts his fingers to his lips, letting out a sharp whistle.
"ARRIGHT BOYS! YE 'EARD THA LAD AN' LASS! WE BE CAMPIN' 'ERE FER THE NIGHT! BREAK OUT THA TENTS!"
The workers in the rest of the wagons begin dismounting and blocking the wheels of the wagons, as well as unpacking the tents the group has been using throughout the journey. Before long, a proper little camp is established, and everyone is able to relax after a long journey.
Throughout the night, those on watch cannot help but feel like there is something lurking just beyond the light of the campfires, but never manage to catch a peak at anything but the night's darkness.
In the morning, most of the workers appear anxious, but Dolgrin is already stomping about trying to get some of them to help him back into his heavy armor. Once he manages to do so, he moves over to the gathered group in charge and asks, "Well, what'll it be? Ye wan' me ta start workin' on tha fort 'ere? I think it's as goo' a place as any? From 'ere it could watch o'er the traffic on tha river as well as a bridge if'n ye build one. Though it'd need ta be a pre'y big archin' bridge, some o' tha ships that travel this 'ere river can get pre'y big!"
He then eyes you all and then adds, "Or, ye wanna wait an' look fer somethin' else? I guess the decision is yers ta make..."
"Let us continue on. We have noted this place, and if nothing better offers itself over the next few days, we can always return. I'd hate to build here, only to find the Perfect Site just ten miles further west." She turns to her companions, offering an arched ebony eyebrow and a smile. An invitation to agree, or a challenge to disagree?
"Perheps we cen build a ferry station here some day, no? I think it will be important to hev a lifeline beck to Restov. But this place does not look defendable, Mester Dwarf." Erimriel scans along the river and the along the plans that sprawl out beyond the river, noting in particular the tall, swaying grass that would provide adequate cover for any making an approach. "A covered approach, a shellow river crossing, end no appreciable rise for a stronghold. I agree with Serafina: let's press our luck further in."
Rahaal has the sacred key of Abadar hanging prominently around her neck. Her gold-trimmed white kaftan, black hair, and walnut brown skin mark her as a Kelishite, as does the fine gold jewelry that adorns her face, arms, ears, and fingers. What stands out most though are her eyes, which swirl like a constantly moving kaleidoscope of amber, sapphire, emerald, and gold...which make her celestial heritage obvious.
The morning of their departure, Rahaal emerged from her room wearing somewhat-dented scale mail and carrying a large, heavily notched wooden shield on her back...armor that she obviously was unused to walking in.
She has kept it on so far during daylight hours and when it’s her turn to keep watch...but it’s clear she’s miserable in it-- struggling even to climb onto the wagon while its on. At camp, she brightens a bit, bringing out a deck of cards and looking for folks to play with...though, again, it doesn’t take a psychic to see that she’s missing the comforts of civilization already.
As they approach the river crossing she comports herself bravely but is clearly white-knuckled at the thought of falling into that rushing river while weighed down by so much metal.
Rahaal listens in turn to Dolgrin, Serafina, and Erimriel.
”Erimriel, you are wise to consider defensibility. I’m know my strengths and weaknesses well enough to know I’m not the right judge of it.
“That said, Jamandi though mentioned that the Reverend Dolgrin was a good advisor on such matters. What say you, Reverend? You proposed this position. What are your thoughts on its defensibility? Do you know what we can expect in that regard, should we continue on?”
"A source of well water, an aquifer perhaps, and high ground that gives a wonderful view of the surrounding region. This is not that. Let's carry on, my friend. This area is a good place for a settlement, but not a defensible fort from which to sally forth and cleanse the area. This place will still be here, should we decide after a week or so that it is the best this region has to offer."
She offers a thin smile to the cleric, gathering her things and starting to pack them as though the matter is settled.
Dolgrin scowls at the others requesting to keep looking for a better spot, but does not object at this time, only saying, "Very well, but remembar, me an' me lads 'ere aren't 'ired ta go trampsin' about the wilds like you lot! We been 'ired ta build a fort an' return ta Brevoy. An' we ain't gonna dally around on tha' job fore'er ta go wanderin' tha wilds filled wit' bandits and Tiger Lords an' tha like just on yer say so!"
He stomps back towards the wagon and calls out "Arright lads, pack up tha tents! We're movin' out!"
Sleeping half of the time on their way to their destination, Andrezi lets Dolgrin show them the way for now. When they had reached the small ford, Andrezi had been asleep, else would have shown them the safest spot to cross in a heartbeat; As it was, however, his goat, unable to wake Andrezi, had to attempt to communicate with the dwarf himself. Dolgrin, for his part, simply patted Onions upside the head, not realizing that its constant bleating was it trying to tell him the way to cross. Luckily for the entire group, Aleksandr’s choice proved be sound, if purely out of sheer dumb luck.
Andrezi wakes with a start as Onions bites him on the foot to get his attention as Dolgrin and co. begin to pack up. Eyes groggy, Andrezi shakes his his head to better wake up and assesses the situation. Noting that Dolgrin and co. have apparently opted to pack up, he assumes they’ve then decided to move on and find a better spot for the fort. He yawns loudly, then walks over to the others.
”My apologies for sleeping in late, again. I see that we’ve opted to go locate a better fort-site? That might be a good idea, though Dolgrin and his group don’t appear to be particularly eager to go much further. Perhaps we should stay at this location for a few days and fully explore the nearby vicinity of say, twelve-miles or so?”
Serafina chuckles at Andrezi's suggestion. If we set camp here, by the time we return Dolgrin and his fellows will be half-finished with the fort, with how eager they seem to want to be done. But whatever! If you all will put your trust in the dwarf to stay his hammer until we return, I am accepting of this compromise." She looks to the others, waiting for responses.
"True, we shouldn't risk the lives of our builders on an edventurer's tesk! Where shell we range to, then, groggy fellow? Follow the river? Into the wilds? Are there even forests around here? I think we'll need wood to build things. I hev never heard of buildings made from gress end water!" Erimriel claps Andrezi on the back and waits eagerly for the splinter expedition to begin.
"What say you, Reverend. Can you stay your hammer while we explore nearby, to make sure there isn't some plainly better location? Either way, you get to begin building in two days -- here or at some more advantageous place we find."
Even as she says it, Rahaal is looking about, thinking ...And this is where I get to trudge around, weighed down by heavy mail, looking for somewhere to settle. By Abadar's Scales I hope it's not too far from here. How do those dwarves do it?
"Two days, plus however long it takes to get to where we decide a fort would be best." Serafina can't help but add this correction to Rahaal's comment, crossing her arms.
"If we are to find good, high ground, let us go against the current of this river upstream. Rivers always flow down, right?" Obviously impressed with her own logic, the woman smiles at her fellows.
"If we're searching, let's start. We've got a lot to do," Sasha says with all the bravado that only youth can provide.
Twenty minutes after the caravan has passed out of sight, Sasha slows his horse and says, "I've got a thing that needs doing, now that we're away from those people. You all will see this eventually anyhow." The young man dismounts, drawing a few pieces of blue chalk from one of the pouches at his belt. He finds a flattish piece of rock on the ground and draws a large symbol on it, approximately as long as a man is tall. He surrounds the symbol with lines and a number of smaller symbols. He finishes after a minute of drawing, and shouts, "Arctalan!" at which point the chalk flashes, burns, and billows smoke.
After a few moments, the smoke clears leaving a strange creature standing where the symbol was drawn. It is taller than most men, a hulking form clothed head to toe in black robes. The robes glisten as if covered in oil or water. It almost appears to be armless and legless, but limb-like movements can occasionally be seen within the folds of cloth. The only feature the relieves the solid black of cloth is a white, possibly porcelain, mask with two vertical eye slits. The symbol that Sasha drew on the rock glows blue on the mask, and a twin of the symbol now adorns the teenager's forehead.
"This is Arctalan," Sasha says, gesturing to the hulking creature. "He's bound to my soul in some fashion that hasn't been explained by any of my research. I have found that he is what is called an 'Eidolon,' a creature from the outer planes. It is not a demon or devil or angel, but rather something else entirely."
The group dedicates this whole day to search their immediate surroundings for a better location to establish the fort. They quickly realize just how fortunate they were to arrive at a suitable crossing point, as most of the length of the East Sellen is either too deep to fjord or the waters are too fast to do so safely. They may have found the only feasible crossing for miles. However, as dusk begins to loom on the western horizon, the group makes their way back to their camp.
When you finally make your way back into the camp, Dolgrin makes his way over and asks, "Well? Ye find anythin' worthwhile?"
"I hev never heard of buildings made from gress end water!"
The sorceress scowls at the dwarf, shaking her head. "This seems to be the only ford across the river for quite some distance. It seems that if we are to build a fort nearby, this location is best suited for it. I apologize for dismissing your advice earlier, good sir." She doesn't sound very apologetic, but she mouths her courtesies all the same.
She gathers her camping gear and settles down, massaging her sore legs.
Dolgrin turns and looks over the area with the remaining light from the setting sun, running his braided beard through his hand as he thinks.
"Ah reckon ah could set up tha privvies thar near tha river, tha boys could have tha holes and drainage ditch dug in a day, as well as the shanties themselves. Ye may not realize it, but one o' tha most importan' things abou' buildin' up somethin' like this is takin' care o' yer waste. Tha smell can get unbearable, an' it'll 'elp cut back on sickness."
He points out towards a section downstream, "Tha' looks like a good spot, 'as a slight down'ill grade ta it naturally towards tha river," he says before pointing further upstream and adding, "An' we can dig us another trench up yonder way to let fresh wa'er inta tha fort's well. I ain't e'er 'eard o' the Sellen goin' dry, so wa'er shouldn't e'er be an issue."
He then looks to Erimriel directly and says, "Ah know ye suggested a ferry station fer a crossin', lass. Nay a bad idea, but tha' might just prove a bit troublesome in the need fer a hasty retreat, ye follow? A bridge would allow many more ta cross faster, e'en if it is more of an undertakin'. But fer now, ah think yer right. A ferry would be well enough."
The sorceress shrugs. "You know your work, good dwarf. You do what you feel is best. You have a job to do, just as we have one as well. Speaking of which."
She turns to her companions. "Shall we strike east and work across in a back and forth pattern, or go out in spirals from this central point? Quite honestly, I've never planned anything of this scale before."
Rahaal's backside is sore at the end of the long day -- as are her shins from banging into a rock while she was walking in armor. That patch of wildflowers Andrezi found was something though. I'll give him that...
Dismounting with effort, she turns to Serafina. "Once again, I thank you for letting me ride. I shall surely have to buy a horse of my own, when I have the opportunity. In the mean time, I appreciate your aid. May the Master of the First Vault bless you with abundance!"
When the sorceress asks about the plan of action, Rahaal asks, "Reverend Dolgrin, do you have experience in this matter? Or you Andrezi? I saw today that you've some affinity for tracking and have clearly spent more time in such places than I have.
"For myself I'd prefer a methodical approach, but I confess I don't know an advantage of one over the other."
Around the fire, Rahaal brews some hot tea to warm her as she eats her cold, tough rations. Time to break out the chocolate? Or the cheese? She shakes her head. Not yet. They'll be gone and then what will I be left with?
She sighs to herself and then digs in her bag, pulling out some dice carved from dark olive wood, from back home in Absolom. Looking about she asks, "Anyone up for a little game to make the tail end of our day less dreary? Perhaps a bit of Toads-and-Lepers? Or Three False Queens?"
Sasha dismisses Arctalan before the group returns to the camp, unwilling to spook the priest and the workers.
"I concur with the idea for a bridge, master Dolgrin. I think it would be wise to build it with defense in mind. Perhaps with either a drawbridge or with a gatehouse at one or both ends?" Sasha says. He turns to the priestess, once he's addressed Dolgrin and continues, "As to the dice, I've no coin, but I'd be up for a game to pass the time."
In her former life, such games of chance were common. A way for young fools to blow off steam and keep from fighting until the next bit of activity came along. Serafina steps toward the priestess, a friendly smile etched in place. If she was going to traipse in the wilderness with these folk for weeks or longer, she might as well get to know them. Hell, the young summoned was easy on the eyes, anyway. "I'd like to join, as well."
The group relaxes by the fire with games and planning before retiring to their tents for the night, Andrezi being the first to depart by a large margin.
You depart south, getting a late start thanks to Andrezi oversleeping, along the western bank of the river. After a few hours, you notice that the river begins to gradually widen and slow, and the earth grows soft and marshy. Before long, you are thoroughly in swamplands.
It isn't until about noon that you happen to hear in the distance the sound of men talking, and can make out through the brush and swamp trees the shapes of a pair of run down houses and some abandoned huts along the shore.
Sitting around a fur near a fire are four men playing some sort of dice game, talking. It is difficult to make out the features of one of the men, as his back is turned to you and his head is covered in a chainmail coif. To his right is a man brandishing two blades, wearing a green cloak pulled up over his head. Next around the fur is a dimwitted looking fellow in leather armor. And finally a sour looking man with a quiver full of arrows on his back and a bow at his side.
"I dunno what the hold up is. We done know the runt ain't worth the copper in his belt pouch. We should just kill him an' be done with it," says the man in the chainmail.
"Maybe," says the man to his right. "But you never know. The old boar may come around and decide to pay up. Hell, maybe he will want the pleasure of doin' him in himself!"
The bowman mutters something quietly, to which the hooded man asks, "What'd you say?"
The bowman repeats himself harshly, "I said Gunter is right! Kill the little prick and be rid of him! He done took Rualf's eye. He's more harm than good! I don't get why Trev is lettin' him live this long, anyway."
"Probably 'cause he's behind on his dues to the Stag Lord, and he knows better than to piss him off..." says the man in chainmail, shaking as if a chill just ran through him.
Serafina holds a hand up to halt her companions, listening to the conversation going on. Such idiots...it's a wonder they aren't dangling from trees already. She looks to her companions, trying to get a feel for what they plan to do. She holds her tongue, at this point, not wanting to give away the element of surprise.
Shrugging dumbly to Dolgrin, Erimriel replies, "I em no builder. I only know crossing thet river will be important for everyone, whether to flee from harm or hev a peth beck to Brevoy."
At the offer of a game to pass the night, Erimriel eagerly obliges the Abadaran's request. The burly aasimar sits in stark contrast beside Rahaal as the dice come out. Their trip into the wilds, if anything, has invigorated Erimriel. She has worn an absentminded smile since the expedition began, taking in all of the surroundings with an almost child-like, wide-eyed wonder. While she still hasn't managed to break out of her shell in her interactions with the band of fellow settlers, she does seem to genuinely enjoy the company thus far.
As the night looms darker and everyone begins turning in for the night, Erimriel follows suit. She is the first awake, excitement robbing her of some time that would be better spent sleeping. She makes use of the time to steal off further upriver and go for a dip and a bath in the river. By the time she returns, she's eager to continue their journey.
Erimriel nods wordlessly to Serafina, then quietly presses a fist into an open palm. The woman appears eager for a scrap—not surprising given that the only thing she's seemed keen on talking about up to this point in the expedition has been thrashing the resident banditry. Faced with the prospect of finally having an opportunity to do just that, she becomes almost comically giddy. It's a strange expression to behold on the face of a woman who looks like she could fold iron with her bare hands. She gives a quick glance around the abandoned buildings away from the fire to make sure the bandits haven't posted any lookouts at an opportune vantage point.
These are bandits! Real, lawless, murderous killers...and they are barely a stones throw away!
She clutches her shield, white knuckled, and take a deep breath to stay focused. Our charter is clear, and it's the closest this lawless land has to any law: unrepentant bandits must hang or fall to the sword. It's easy to hear that these haven't repented and so they must yield to justice's blade.
She talks herself through the correct thing to do...and then blanches at the thought. Looking at her companions she wonders, have any of them killed before?
In her barest whisper she decides to take charge, giving her tone a commanding confidence that she doesn't feel. "The bandits must pay for their lawless crimes. You, that way. You, over there" motioning to the witch and the sorceress. "Cast whatever is likely to subdue the most. You two" she nods to the brawler and the eidolon "and I will come in immediately after, to clean up and protect our companions."
As she says it she looks at the dagger she's never drawn blood with and bites her lip.
Offering a quick nod to Rahaal, Erimriel reaches for the leather sling tucked in her thick belt. Digging through a lumpy pouch, she retrieves a smooth stone and rests it in the sling before stepping cautiously around to the corner of the dilapidated building. She waits for Serafina and Andrezi to stalk off towards their positions before giving the bandits an eye full of something else to distract them. Counting on her fingers in the interim, after she reaches ten, she stops and steels herself for the bloodshed to come. Here we go, Erimriel! They'll never know what hit them!
Exhaling softly with a grin, almost quivering with excitement as the knock of blood in her veins quickens, she steps quietly around the corner of the building and sends a stone sailing across the distance at the bowman's face.
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Erimriel moves ahead and into position a bit early, eager to put her specific set of skills to use. She lets loose a sling bullet just as one of the bandits spots her and calls out, "What in the hells?"
The bullet hits the bowman square in the side of his head, and the man reflexively reaches up to the wound as he falls sideways off the chair, where he lies eerily still.
The others, however, stand and draw their weapons as the man in chainmail looks about confused from his seat.
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Serafina advances forward cautiously, their hiding place now given away. She sees one of the bandits laying on his side and judges it to be Erimriel's handiwork, considering how giddy she is. Her dark eyes take stock of the situation, trying to gauge what the bandits will do next. F%&%! She hopes they were as stupid as they seemed to be.
Hoping these were the weak-willed men that usually plagued the lesser ranks of the bandit community, she readies a spell to put them out of commission.
Rahaal hurries forward -- a bit taken aback to see how chaotically things are playing out versus how she'd imagined them -- but still her disciplined training kicks into gear.
In a voice who's resolute confidence surprises even herself, she bellows,
By the end of her speech, Rahaal reflects: Well, at least I feel a bit less scared.
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Sasha and Arctalan work their way around the side of the building, and as the bandits cry out, Sasha nods and says "Go at them, Arc." and the shrouded eidolon responds by rushing toward the bandits. For his part, Sasha begins to cast a spell that will make Arctalan much larger and deadlier.
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Erimriel moves ahead and into position a bit early, eager to put her specific set of skills to use. She lets loose a sling bullet just as one of the bandits spots her and calls out, "What in the hells?"
The bullet hits the bowman square in the side of his head, and the man reflexively reaches up to the wound as he falls sideways off the chair, where he lies eerily still.
The others, however, stand and draw their weapons as the man in chainmail looks about confused from his seat.
Serafina advances forward cautiously, their hiding place now given away. She sees one of the bandits laying on his side and judges it to be Erimriel's handiwork, considering how giddy she is. Her dark eyes take stock of the situation, trying to gauge what the bandits will do next. F#&@! She hopes they were as stupid as they seemed to be.
Hoping these were the weak-willed men that usually plagued the lesser ranks of the bandit community, she readies a spell to put them out of commission.
Rahaal hurries forward -- a bit taken aback to see how chaotically things are playing out versus how she'd imagined them -- but still her disciplined training kicks into gear.
In a voice who's resolute confidence surprises even herself, she bellows, ”Bandits, the Judge of Gods rebukes your lawlessness! Comrades, let the might of justice guide your arms and bolster your hearts. We will prevail!”
By the end of her speech, Rahaal reflects: Well, at least I feel a bit less scared.
Sasha and Arctalan work their way around the side of the building, and as the bandits cry out, Sasha nods and says "Go at them, Arc," and the shrouded eidolon responds by rushing toward the bandits. For his part, Sasha begins to cast a spell that will make Arctalan much larger and deadlier.
The rest of the heroes are unaware, however, that Andrezi has fallen asleep against the wall of the ruined building. The goat that remains at his side at all time anxiously nudges him with his head.
"Whadda we do, Mac!?!?" shouts one of the men by the furs as the man in chainmail grabs his large sword and rises to his feet.
"What do you think, you moron!? Get that b!+*#!" the other says as he runs forward with his twin blades, the other on his heels. Just as they get near Erimriel, Serafina unleashes her spell, sending a wave of colors washing over the men. Their eyes immediately roll back into their heads, and they collapse unconscious in front of the women.
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Serafina smirks smugly as both of the bandits drop like a rock in front of her and Erimriel. No one ever suspected the weaponless, unarmored woman to be a threat. And they usually never woke to rue their error. Drawing her dagger, she moves forward, stepping next to the bandit slightly closer to her. Her eyes harden, her lips compressing as she makes ready to slit the man's throat.
She would normally consider taking them captive...but her spell did not last indefinitely, and the thug that Erimriel had brained could answer questions just as well as these two. Besides...why prolong the inevitable? Their charter stated to give the bandits the sword or the noose.
Rahaal's eyes go wide as the two approaching bandits are knocked senseless by Serafina's blast of colors. Things seem to actually be going according to plan...except, where's Andrezi?!?
She moves a bit closer to the last conscious bandit and hollers, "See how the bandits fall before us? Justice will prevail over lawlessness, even in these retched lands.
"Erimriel, let the Golden Fist of Abadar guide your strikes."
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Sasha finishes his spell just as Arctalan really takes off, and the eidolon doubles in height, now almost 13 feet tall. With crashing steps the shrouded figure rushes toward the remaining bandit he hears shouting and movement within the building. The eidolon's massive arms suddenly burst out from the folds of his form as he runs, and he clasps his hands together as he brings them down on the bandit, who manages to avoid the huge arms.
After his unsuccessful attack, Arctalan gestures toward the building and speaks, his voice fading in and out, though somehow clearly audible. "Boy, more flesh in the stone."
"Thanks," Sasha calls to the eidolon, skirting around the shattered building. As he rounds the corners he shouts to the others, "Hey, there's more in that building."
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"I'll leave these two pups to you, miss Serafina!" Erimriel blurts out as she walks over the prone form of a bandit and towards the one who was barking out orders. Her sling twirls rapidly in her right hand, another stone ready to be unleashed.
"Oh a b~!$*, is it!?" Her sling's bullet whizzes harmlessly over the bandit by a good foot or so. She grunts at her poor aim before allowing the sling to drop to the ground. Erimriel's fists raise up before her and she adopts a formidable fighting stance. She appears to be very light on her feet, but stays in perpetual motion as she continues approaching the bandit.
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Having fallen asleep just before the ambush was sprung, Andrezi loses valuable time as the others go and easily butcher their foes. Onions, getting fed up with his master, bites his master hard enough to wake the fool, causing Andrezi to startle awake.
”Huh?” He groggily yawns and then quickly realizes he fell asleep in the middle of combat and shuffles towards the only member of his group he can see to get a better look at whats going on.
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Rahaal's eyes go wide as the two approaching bandits are knocked senseless by Serafina's blast of colors. Things seem to actually be going according to plan...except, where's Andrezi?!?
She moves a bit closer to the last conscious bandit and hollers, "See how the bandits fall before us? Justice will prevail over lawlessness, even in these retched lands."
"Erimriel, let the Golden Fist of Abadar guide your strikes."
Serafina smirks smugly as both of the bandits drop like a rock in front of her and Erimriel. No one ever suspected the weaponless, unarmored woman to be a threat. And they usually never woke to rue their error. Drawing her dagger, she moves forward, stepping next to the bandit slightly closer to her. Her eyes harden, her lips compressing as she makes ready to slit the man's throat.
She would normally consider taking them captive...but her spell did not last indefinitely, and the thug that Erimriel had brained could answer questions just as well as these two. Besides...why prolong the inevitable? Their charter stated to give the bandits the sword or the noose.
"I'll leave these two pups to you, miss Serafina!" Erimriel blurts out as she walks over the prone form of a bandit and towards the one who was barking out orders. Her sling twirls rapidly in her right hand, another stone ready to be unleashed.
"Oh a b$%@$, is it!?" Her sling's bullet whizzes harmlessly over the bandit by a good foot or so. She grunts at her poor aim before allowing the sling to drop to the ground. Erimriel's fists raise up before her and she adopts a formidable fighting stance. She appears to be very light on her feet, but stays in perpetual motion as she continues approaching the bandit.
Sasha finishes his spell just as Arctalan really takes off, and the eidolon doubles in height, now almost 13 feet tall. With crashing steps the shrouded figure rushes toward the remaining bandit he hears shouting and movement within the building. The eidolon's massive arms suddenly burst out from the folds of his form as he runs, and he clasps his hands together as he brings them down on the bandit, who manages to avoid the huge arms.
After his unsuccessful attack, Arctalan gestures toward the building and speaks, his voice fading in and out, though somehow clearly audible. "Boy, more flesh in the stone."
"Thanks," Sasha calls to the eidolon, skirting around the shattered building. As he rounds the corners he shouts to the others, "Hey, there's more in that building."
Having fallen asleep just before the ambush was sprung, Andrezi loses valuable time as the others go and easily butcher their foes. Onions, getting fed up with his master, bites his master hard enough to wake the fool, causing Andrezi to startle awake.
”Huh?” He groggily yawns and then quickly realizes he fell asleep in the middle of combat and shuffles towards the only member of his group he can see to get a better look at whats going on.
"WHAT IN THE...BOSS! BOSSS! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" the man in chain shouts as he tries desperately to avoid the monstrous Arctalan's attacks. He steps in to try to cut down the monster, his blade slicing straight through the thing. Its shadowy form reels from the attack, and it is clearly staggered from the attack.
Another bandit emerges from the larger building, bow in hand. "What the f$@&!? Trevor, what the f@$& is this thing!?!?" he says as he haphazardly lets an arrow fly in the eidolon's direction, but misses entirely.
A large, muscle bound man steps out of the house behind him, and glares at the creature and the people beyond. He scowls as he stalks towards Arctalan, a large axe in hand, as he mutters, "Brevish scum, likely sent for the boy. Let none survive."
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Seeing Arctalan's plight, Erimriel dashes forward with a surprising burst of speed. She plants her left heel as she skids behind the bandit in chain mail. She carries the momentum of her speed into a spin, pivoting on her left to deliver a gruesome kick into the man's turning head. Her right foot catches the man square in the temple as he makes to bring his blade to bear against her.
"I'd tell you to mind your tongue in the future, but I cen't say I expect you to hev one!" Erimriel taunts with satisfaction as the right side of the man's face buckles under the force of her kick.
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Finally seeing Andrezi emerge with sleep in his eyes, Rahaal purses her lips in disapproval...but continues to call her allies onward in the name of justice.
Feeling a bit bolder, she pronounces "The lawless will fall before Abadar's just gaze. We will prevail!
"Erimriel, your fists and feet are the Judge of the Gods' vehicle now."
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Serafina looks up in dismay as more bandits come out of the building, including the cocky, axe-wielding fellow. She'd like to go help...but prudence demands she makes sure these don't rise to fight again. She steels herself, then plunges her dagger down, aiming for the man's heart. Her aim is true, and her hands get a splatter of blood on them as a few arterial spurts burst from the wound onto her her dagger, hands, and the bandit's clothing and armor. She withdraws her weapon from his chest, a bit unnerved by the man's spasming, but determined to give his fellow the same treatment as she turns her attention to the other unconscious bandit.
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"ARC!" Sasha yells as the eidolon reels and staggers a step toward his master. The young summoner hurries forward, drawing a vial full of red-black liquid from his pouch as he goes. He mutters and short incantation, taking a drop of the fluid and smearing it on the eidolon in a simple star pattern. The creature's wound immediately begins to knit back together, the greenish ichor seeping from the wound, slowing to a bare trickle.
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