| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The morning of the Spring Market Festival dawns grey and cool, the last clouds from yesterday’s rains still wandering slowly eastward, but the golden sun creeping over the horizon promises warmth and light in the hours to come. The small village of Phaendar wakes with the brightening morning, its small handful of streets beginning to fill with merchants, travelers, farmers, and all the many tradesfolk who have assembled to sell and buy, swap and bargain. The large oval that is the Market Green in the town’s center – fully half the size of the entire town, close to 75 yards across its longest stretch – quickly accumulates wagons, tents, carts, and stalls of all shapes and sizes, along with food vendors, entertainers, shouting children, strolling sweethearts, bemused grandparents, and more.
This is the raucous setting in which you find yourselves on this Starday, the first day of Gozran. As you too walk the streets and alleys of Phaendar and its market festival, you see old friends, long-standing rivals, and strangers aplenty, all going about their lives in this sudden bloom of prosperity. While commerce aplenty happening in the Market Green, the festival events in the surrounding town are largely focused on four locations: the Phaendar Trading Company, which seems to be acting as a central clearinghouse of information on who and what can be found where in the festival and the Market Green, in addition to doing a brisk business in its own right; the Taproot Inn, which has offered its hospitality to many of the town’s visitors, and which is currently hosting an outdoor stage where a Varisian woman in exotic-looking silks and shawls is singing and dancing before a rapt audience; the Riverwood Shrine, where the faithful can offer their prayers to Desna, Erastil, the Green Faith or any other good- or neutral-aligned deity, and where the well-known Caydenite priestess (and ex-Chesnardo Ranger) called Aubrin the Green is demonstrating her archery skills to an ooh-ing and aah-ing crowd; and Oreld’s Fine Shop, an otherwise unremarkable alchemist’s shop that is home – today and tomorrow only! – to local celebrity Wee Patterson, the Tiniest Aurochs, a miniature aurochs the size of a large dog who acts as the Market Festival’s pint-sized mascot. A sketch artist sit nearby, charging 1 gp for a ten-minute charcoal sketch of you and Wee Patterson together, a memento you will no doubt treasure forever!
"Ah, the simple beauty of a quiet day and the silver to spend at it. After I pay my respects for old Maud of course. Bless her. Now, the only question is which priestess would she have hit on first."
Lissa looks between the dancer and the archer chuckling as her armor shifts and creaks about her. Decision made, she ambles in the direction of the shrine. Ignoring the archery for now, she finds a small space and bows her head in prayer.
"Shelyn, grant me the same easy acceptance of life you granted maud, and keep her close. She's not to be trusted with sweets, but lives, she saves those. Thank you."
She stands, pushes her red hair out of her face and settles the braid at the nape of her neck, then fishes a small twist of glass and wire from her pocket. It's not clear what it is, but she leaves it anyways beneath the songbird, her callused fingers suprisingly gentle. Another long quiet pause then she turns away. Wiping her eyes, Lissa heads toward the dancing woman, clapping as appropriate, a smile on her lips. The peace-bonded glaive on her back seems lighter now, the rose engravings just the slightest bit cleaner.
"Do you know the song they call the Tinker's Rose?" she cries out at a break in the music, but she's one of many happy voices, and has no idea if the dancer can hear her.
"I should have just pushed on last night" thinks Jie as she rides into town. "I didn't realize the festival started today." Smiling she takes in the sights of the colorful festivities, but the job come first. She rides up to shrine, dismounts and feeds her horse some maple candy. "Now stay and I'll get you an apple later." Then she stides up to Aubrin as she finishes her shot. "Courtesy of the Nirmathias Postal Authority, Ma'am." she remarks as she takes a sealed parchment from her bag and hands it the ex-ranger.
Benedict hops off the wagon and begins unloading bales of wool. The wagon belongs to Jebruk, a farmer and a neighbor of his parents out in the foothills of the Mindspin Mountains. Jebruk has a well-built wagon and two good draft horses, and has appreciated both the company and the protection of Benedict's sword arm. The trip has been uneventful.
About a mile outside of Phaendar, Benedict took out some makeup and began applying it.
"You don't need to do that, lad," said the farmer, "People around here know who you are. So you're a bit different. It's because an angel who fought in the Shining Crusade settled down to the shepherd's life with your many-greats-grandmother."
"Well, that was a long time ago, sir, and we don't know for sure about that legend. And I'm no angel!" Benedict replied with a grin. "You are right, the people of Phaendar know me, but all the visitors here for the festival... I'd rather not have too many stares and questions." He arranged his shaggy brown wig, and worked to mask the slight silvery sheen of his skin.
Benedict brings his bales of wool to the Market Green, ready to make some deals. He sits on one bale, with his sword wrapped in a cloak at his feet. He is still wearing his armor (the Mindspin Mountains have their dangers, even the foothills), although will likely change out of it when time permits.
"Do you know the song they call the Tinker's Rose?" she cries out at a break in the music, but she's one of many happy voices, and has no idea if the dancer can hear her.
The singer laughs, waving down to Lissa, before breaking into "The Tinker's Rose." The sprightly tune leads her through a flurry of extravagant dance moves, her many-layers skirts flying through the air as she spins and kicks her legs.
"I should have just pushed on last night" thinks Jie as she rides into town. "I didn't realize the festival started today." Smiling she takes in the sights of the colorful festivities, but the job come first. She rides up to shrine, dismounts and feeds her horse some maple candy. "Now stay and I'll get you an apple later." Then she stides up to Aubrin as she finishes her shot. "Courtesy of the Nirmathias Postal Authority, Ma'am." she remarks as she takes a sealed parchment from her bag and hands it the ex-ranger.
Feng looks at Jie mistrustfully, clearly unconvinced by the promise of apples, but takes the candies with a dignified air. With an dismissive flick of an ear, the horse turns its attention to the new spring shoots poking up from the rain-soaked earth. Jie hands off her message to Aubrin (and gets a two-copper tip in the process), and the archer quickly breaks the seal. Aubrin is athletic and dark-skinned, with a peg leg made from darkwood below her left knee. Her brown eyes skim the message quickly, and she frowns for a moment before looking up at Jie. "Are you going to stay through the festival tomorrow? I think I will need to send a reply with you if I can."
Benedict hops off the wagon and begins unloading bales of wool. The wagon belongs to Jebruk, a farmer and a neighbor of his parents out in the foothills of the Mindspin Mountains. Jebruk has a well-built wagon and two good draft horses, and has appreciated both the company and the protection of Benedict's sword arm. The trip has been uneventful.
About a mile outside of Phaendar, Benedict took out some makeup and began applying it.
"You don't need to do that, lad," said the farmer, "People around here know who you are. So you're a bit different. It's because an angel who fought in the Shining Crusade settled down to the shepherd's life with your many-greats-grandmother."
"Well, that was a long time ago, sir, and we don't know for sure about that legend. And I'm no angel!" Benedict replied with a grin. "You are right, the people of Phaendar know me, but all the visitors here for the festival... I'd rather not have too many stares and questions." He arranged his shaggy brown wig, and worked to mask the slight silvery sheen of his skin.
Benedict brings his bales of wool to the Market Green, ready to make some deals. He sits on one bale, with his sword wrapped in a cloak at his feet. He is still wearing his armor (the Mindspin Mountains have their dangers, even the foothills), although will likely change out of it when time permits.
Jebruk studies the result of Benedict's efforts, then shrugs. "Good enough, I suppose, if you feel you must. Good festival to you!"
After Benedict gets settled, he has several people wander past, checking over the quality of his wool before moving on. Finally, though, a Druman dwarf named Netthias, dressed in the thick white robes and long gloves of a Prophet of Kalistrade, approaches and begins dickering in earnest. The Prophet drives a hard bargain, but their commitment to their agreements is legendary, so by the time the negotiations are done, Benedict has a fair price for his family's wool for the entirety of the next season, guaranteeing a steady income over the following months.
Feng looks at Jie mistrustfully, clearly unconvinced by the promise of apples, but takes the candies with a dignified air. With an dismissive flick of an ear, the horse turns its attention to the new spring shoots poking up from the rain-soaked earth. Jie hands off her message to Aubrin (and gets a two-copper tip in the process), and the archer quickly breaks the seal. Aubrin is athletic and dark-skinned, with a peg leg made from darkwood below her left knee. Her brown eyes skim the message...
"Don't look at her leg." Jie thinks as Aubrin reads her missive, but she can't help but break into a smile when she asks her to stay for the celebration. "Oh no Ma'am, that would be no problem at all. I would really love to stay and enjoy the festival." She then frowns and remarks. "I'm going to have to try and stay at the Taproot, but I'm going to have to make some sort of arrangement with the Inn to do so. If I'm not there I should be camped out somewhere close." Her curiosity can no longer be contained and she blurts out. "How did it happen?' looking at the leg.
Amkarang wanders around the festival, taking in the sights and sounds. He stops by a food stand to grab a bite to eat, and contentedly eats under a tree. After a bit, he gets up and roams the festival a while longer before running into Chang Jie. Upon seeing her, he grins and walks over, saying loudly, "Is that Chang Jie I see or my eyes decieve me? What a pleasant surprise it is to see a friend here. By Hei Feng's laughter, how are you?
"Don't look at her leg." Jie thinks as Aubrin reads her missive, but she can't help but break into a smile when she asks her to stay for the celebration. "Oh no Ma'am, that would be no problem at all. I would really love to stay and enjoy the festival." She then frowns and remarks. "I'm going to have to try and stay at the Taproot, but I'm going to have to make some sort of arrangement with the Inn to do so. If I'm not there I should be camped out somewhere close." Her curiosity can no longer be contained and she blurts out. "How did it happen?' looking at the leg.
"...What?" Aubrin says, clearly already distracted by her message. After a second, however, she catches up with Jie's question. "Oh, the leg. Nothing happened. Born with it. Had the pegleg as long as I can remember. Learned to walk, run, dance, all with the wood. Just part of the deal."
A litle embarrassed by her question, Jie happily turns to Amkarang, " Why Hai Dao. Should have known you'd be up and around. Looks like I'll be here for an extra day or so, if you'd like to show me about the festival." She turns back to Aubrin. "Ma'am, I am at your disposal. Find me when you're ready and I will deliver your message."
"Thank you Mistress Jet. That was a favorite. I'll have to see if your cooking lives up to your singing as usual!"
Lissa heads for the archer next, intending to ask her where she should look to find a bowyer, she's lost her bow and would need to get a new one drawn for her eventually, assuming she can find employment, what with maud gone. She grimaces again, then forces a smile onto her face.
When the two from Tian begin to reconnect, she smiles and waits her turn.
Get set up early, Benedict, get the deal done, and then you can enjoy the festival. If you tarry too long, the buyers will have found everything they need. He feels he's done his parents proud.
With the business done, Benedict relaxes. He moves a bit outside the village green to take off his armor, not having wanted to spare the time earlier. He brings the armor, along with his larger weapons, to the village smith for safekeeping (giving the smith a silver for his trouble) while he walks around the festival. He keeps his backpack, which has the disguise kit and the Pathfinder's kit (the dagger from that kit in his boot).
Home. This is nothing like Absalom. So the people here haven't seen as much or haven't read as many books. So what? They're also not as... not as full of themselves. Greatest city in the world, Starstone, Aroden, prophecies, blah blah blah. Although... there's nobody here who deserves to be brought down a peg, is there? No corrupt councilman who deserves to have a harlot's garter conveniently found in his bedroom. Ah well. If I want that sort of fun, I can head back to the city for a spell.
He heads to the Taproot Inn to talk to some of the locals and catch up on the latest news.
He doesn't know whatever this refers to.
Get set up early, Benedict, get the deal done, and then you can enjoy the festival. If you tarry too long, the buyers will have found everything they need. He feels he's done his parents proud.
With the business done, Benedict relaxes. He moves a bit outside the village green to take off his armor, not having wanted to spare the time earlier. He brings the armor, along with his larger weapons, to the village smith for safekeeping (giving the smith a silver for his trouble) while he walks around the festival. He keeps his backpack, which has the disguise kit and the Pathfinder's kit (the dagger from that kit in his boot).
The town smith is actually the same person who runs the Phaendar Trading Post, an irritable, harsh-faced dwarven woman named Kining Blondebeard. (Despite the name, Kining has no beard of any color.) Kining eyes the silver coin Benedict offers her with a dissatisfied scowl, but accepts it and agrees to store the weapons and armor safely until the morrow. "If they're still here at noon, though, I'm sure I can make a pretty penny on them, you understand me?"
Home. This is nothing like Absalom. So the people here haven't seen as much or haven't read as many books. So what? They're also not as... not as full of themselves. Greatest city in the world, Starstone, Aroden, prophecies, blah blah blah. Although... there's nobody here who deserves to be brought down a peg, is there? No corrupt councilman who deserves to have a harlot's garter conveniently found in his bedroom. Ah well. If I want that sort of fun, I can head back to the city for a spell.
He heads to the Taproot Inn to talk to some of the locals and catch up on the latest news.
The Root is full almost to bursting with people staying the night or just enjoying the inn's renowned cooking. Most of the rumors Benedict hears involve trade deals done or not done, but a few other pieces trickle down here and there. One of interest is that the Chesnardo Rangers have been oddly absent from the roads of Nirmathas in the last few days, although no one's got any idea why.
|
Having come out of a long night of drinking with a pair of dwarves Grum walks into The Root. He is a large half-orc (though that is usually a redundant thing to say) with a large curved blade strapped to his back and splint mail armor hanging off of his shoulders. He tries to make his way through the bursting tavern, but ends up walking straight into Benedict. Holding his hands up he says "Sorry, sorry. Didn't see you there."
Benedict tries to avoid drawing any attention. He pulls up closer to the bar so the half-orc can pass by.
"No worries, friend."
He keeps an eye on the warrior. Why is he carrying a sword like that in a tavern? And wearing such heavy armor?
|
|
Grum makes his way to the bar and goes straight to Kining. Smiling a toothy grin at the dwarf (in an attempt to put her at ease) he says "Well met there, dwarf. Name's Grum. New to town, and looking for work. Know of any caravan masters around here in need of some extra muscle? Mercenary company disbanded not too long ago and I'm in need of a new job."
The human woman behind the bar seems a bit nonplussed by Grum's smile, but she frowns consideringly at the half-orc before responding. "Afraid not, ah, Grum, is it? Everyone I know's already well-prepared and then some." She nods to one corner as an example, where a well-dressed dwarf in all-white finery picks carefully at his meal, overseen by a tall human man who is clearly his bodyguard. The bodyguard's eyes continually search the room, and he exchanges a brief nod with Jet before giving a narrow glance at Grum. "You're welcome to spend the night and check around in the morning, if you'd like. Rooms're all full, of course, but I'm not charging for the floor if you want to stretch out once the drinkers are abed."
"Mistress Ranger, I was wondering if you knew of a talented bowyer in the area? I'm afraid my bow met a hob axe and came out the loser. Although I'll say better the bow than my braid."
Lissa smiles at Aubrin hopefully.
"I'd not be able to afford a new one before my next outing, sadly. Still, I'd value your advice. The last one I let our sergeant gave me felt flimsy, although the half-elven said it was well enough made for a human."
Jie notices Lissa waiting to talk to Aubrin and politely moves aside. Turning to Amkarang she asks in Tien "I'd like to pray before I leave, it you will give me a moment." She collects Feng and heads over to the Green Faith shrine. Kneeling she pays her respect and comes back. "I promised Feng an apple." she tells Amkarang. "Which merchant here has the best ones?" she asks as she leads Feng towards the marketplace.
After buying a bag of apples. She offers one to Amkarang, one to Feng and starts munching on one herself. "The Taproot seems pretty busy. I'd better go ahead and get a room now before they let them all go." She starts to head towards the Inn, hitching Feng up before entering. As she enters she takes a moment to look around for who's in charge.
Amkarang happily takes a bite out of the apple, and nods. "Sounds like a good plan, one can never be too early when getting a room at an inn. It is as they say among the river pirates, the second boat to plunder is the first boat to fail. Anyway, mind if I follow along, I've been wanting something to drink."
"Mistress Ranger, I was wondering if you knew of a talented bowyer in the area? I'm afraid my bow met a hob axe and came out the loser. Although I'll say better the bow than my braid."
Lissa smiles at Aubrin hopefully.
"I'd not be able to afford a new one before my next outing, sadly. Still, I'd value your advice. The last one I let our sergeant gave me felt flimsy, although the half-elven said it was well enough made for a human."
Aubrin snorts. "Bah," she says dismissively. "There's not a soul here who knows wood better than to hack out an uneven dinner table. Kining's good enough with stone and metal, but for a bow? Never. Truth is, and may Cayden strike me down if it isn't so, I learned the bowyer's craft from a celestial treant, who served as an emissary from Old Deadeye himself! Bet him I could outdrink him, and pulled one over but good - because every pint I put back, why I pissed it right out on the old stump's roots! He was drinking two for one and thought I was just being polite. Anyway, I'd be happy to make a bow for you if you'd like." The ranger reaches out and grips Lissa's upper arm, feeling the muscle. "Strong pull, and no mistake," Aubrin murmurs. "I can make you one strong enough to use all that oxblooded brawn, but it'll be 40 platinum. If you don't need something so fancy, though, I can trim that back an acre or two."
After buying a bag of apples. She offers one to Amkarang, one to Feng and starts munching on one herself. "The Taproot seems pretty busy. I'd better go ahead and get a room now before they let them all go." She starts to head towards the Inn, hitching Feng up before entering. As she enters she takes a moment to look around for who's in charge.
Jie is quickly pointed in the direction of Jet, and learns, just as Grum did, that the rooms are already all gone, but Jet's willing to cram as many people into the common room floor as she can fit without needing to throw a bucket on anyone.
"I'd have to be quite lucky in an outing to afford that, but I might take you up on it in the future if Shelyn favors me. For now, can I give you these to hold?"
She hands over the cold iron arrows from her time in the first world.
"They're mementos, as it were, but I think you'd do them justice while I earn my fortune. Who knows, you might be able to return them with that bow in the future. Until then, consider them yours and use them with my blessing."
She smiles shyly, then pulls away from the ranger. Tucking her braid back, she heads toward the inn, with a last look over the fair as she walks inside.
"Jet, have you any rooms left?"
After talking to Jet, Jie is pleased to find out that the floor is free. She then asks Jet. "Is there any place to stable my horse in town?" while ordering the cheapest drink the Taproot has to offer.
Lissa and Jie learn that Jet has no more rooms left, and Jie is also disappointed to discover that there is no livery stable in town either - Phaendar is just not large enough to support one outside of the merchant fairs. "There's a temporary pen we set up over behind the Trading Company," Jet offers, "but it's really just someplace with fences to keep anyone from wandering too far. There's no roof or grooms."
The Inn's serving staff hands around drinks as the common room fills up. Once darkness falls, most of the stalls and shops close up for the night, and a number of parties spring up around town - the largest, though, without question, is at the Inn. This is largely due to the arrival of Aubrin the Green, who has taken up a position in the center of the common room to recount a somewhat unbelievable adventure tale from her youth. Outside, the celebration continues, as raucous shouts carry on the night air. Warmed by the firelight after a long day, any levity comes as a welcome reward to the rough, earthy souls of the riverside trade town.
"So there I am, thinking, when will I ever be able to talk to a bear again? So before the grizzly can stand back up, I turn to it and say, 'All I need is the honey. You can keep the bees!'" The room erupts into laughter as Aubrin finishes her winding story and takes another draught from her tankard. "But it’s fine now. All’s good. She named a cub after me. Someday I’m going to have to check in on little Ow Oh Gods That’s Too Many Bees."
Crowd members share their own boasts and jokes, but eventually someone tops off Aubrin’s tankard and pushes her back into the center of the room.
"All right, all right! Don’t shove," she slurs a bit. "Okay, Cayden strike me down if this isn’t true—"
The front door explodes into flinders. A cry of agony pierces the chaos. Aubrin lies on the floor, gasping and clutching at the blood gushing from a wound in her chest. A ballista bolt still quivers in the wall behind her.
Two hobgoblins in military dress stand beyond the shattered door, blades drawn. Behind them, lit by the glow of burning homes, dozens — perhaps hundreds — of hobgoblin soldiers march the street. Phaendar burns, shouts of celebration now replaced by the panicked screams of the frightened and dying.
Behind them, above the flames and humble rooftops, rises a tower of black stone.
Amkarang's face drops, beholding the horror before him. Anger washes over him and he shouts, "By Yamatsumi's fury! Come on, repel the hobgoblins! Fight with valour!" Amkarang reaches to his belt and picks up his meteor hammer, swirling the iron weights to build up momentum.
The hobgoblin soldiers in the doorway snarl in harsh, guttural Common. "You there! Don't move if your lives are worth anything to you!"
Lissa is moving before the hobgoblins finish talking, shoving her way against the frightened tide of onlookers to reach the side of the wounded ranger. She knocks over a bottle of wine as her hands pull a cloth from the table nearby, then with curt gestures she pulls aside the ranger's vest and upends her water on the wound. Quickly she slaps her makeshift bandage against the gory hole.
"Shelyn help us, heal this woman, and someone else close that damn door and bring in the dogs."
Her hands move over the wound, and below Aubrin's thrashing body probing, and with a squelching noise she shoves the blanket flush on both sides. The ranger suddenly stills, her breathing slow and steady.
Standard to Stabilize her via Heavenly touch.
The common room of the Root is not all that large, no more than thirty feet in any dimension. Four round tables and a long bar support food and drinks, and the western corner holds a large stone fireplace, which is blazing quite merrily. The shattered door out to the street is to the south, and a set of stairs leads up to the second floor along the southeastern wall. In the northern corner, behind the bar, another door leads back into the kitchen.
Amkarang jogs toward the hobgoblin nearest to him, shifting his grip into fortress mode to strike the hobgoblin at a reach.
Jie sits in shocked silence, but the attack of the others spurs her to action. She moves to hopefully flank one of the hobgoblins preferably with Amkarang, drawing her dagger as she does. She darts in a slashes at the vile soldier.
Benedict will move, drawing his dagger, to wherever he has a clear shot, then throw at the hobgoblin not in combat. Hopefully that places him near Aubrin. He reaches a hand out and shouts "Her sword!", to a nearby civilian.
Lissa's touch soothes Aubrin's horrific wound, but it is clear the Caydenite is still badly in shock. She stares in wide-eyed dismay at the injury she has taken and the ghastly vision beyond the inn's doors, and at first makes no move to rise or anything else.
Though Lissa is concerned with the wounded, the rest of the group springs into action. Amkarang's meteor hammer almost cracks the head of one of the hobgoblin warriors, but the snarling goblinoid manages to barely deflect the strike with his shield. Even as he does, though, Jie slips up past Amkarang and slashes her dagger across the hob's cheek, laying it open. His companion fares little better; although clearly unimpressed by Grum's bluster, the other hobgoblin nonetheless grunts in pain as Benedict's knife sinks deep into her shoulder.
All around, the inn's other patrons run madly in every direction, heading through the kitchen door, trying to force their way past the hobs, or even jumping out of windows. Two such fleeing patrons are cut down in casual passing by the hobgoblins, and none seems to be paying enough attention to Benedict to react to his call for aid. Aubrin, however, does. With pained effort, she pulls her weapon free of its scabbard and holds it out to him.
Jie's foe turns his blade against the post rider, feinting toward her head before cutting a slash at her ankles. The strike is completely unexpected, and Jie barely manages to move far enough out of the way to avoid losing a foot completely.
The other tries to circle around the inns perimeter to strike at Benedict, but Amkarang's meteor hammer flashes outward at the hob's exposed flank. Again, though, the warrior deflects it with her shield.
Instead, she moves to confront Benedict, whose knife he can still see protruding from her shoulder. With little fanfare or finesse, she stabs out at him, and unarmed and armored as he is, the wound is quite grievous.
No time to plan. Have to take this one down.
Benedict takes the sword in both hands and swings at the hobgoblin.
Unfortunately, it does not get past the creature's armor.
Bleeding and desperate, a frightening thought goes through his head.
Those two wore heavy armor and massive swords all day, for a Phaendar festival.
He shouts at Grum and the bodyguard, "Did you know this would happen?"
Jie yells in pain as the hobgoblin's weapon tears into her ankle. Suddenly she realizes that she may never see her family again. But she bites her lip and continues the attack, trying to distract her foe from the people with bigger weapons.
But she slips on her now weakened ankle and her attack goes wild.
As audrin stretches to hand the sword over Lissa curses and pushes the fabric tight against the wound.
"Stay still idiot, it went straight through you and I'm no cleric to wish you well with a simple hand press and a prayer. I'll go help, you try not to bleed out before you make that bow for me, or go dancing, ok?"
Lissa surges over the woman and towards the door, her glaive coming around in a furious blow nearly knocking the hob into Benedict's blade.
"The door. We need to secure the building or this will get very ugly."
Amkarang whirls his meteor hammer, but it hits against a bit of rubble and loses momentum, unable to hit the hobgoblin. "By Susumo's blade, I will defeat you!"
|
|
Grum shouts back "Did I what?!"
With that he ran towards Benedict, his sword raised. For a moment it looked like he was going to strike at the Aasimar. Instead, he moved past the man and swung at the hobgoblin. His sword had a slight shine as it swung down, as his innate magic empowered it.
The blow went by the hobgoblin's head and hit a nearby table instead. The table was sent careening over. Without looking at Benedict he said:
"Back up! Your injured. I've got this."
Benedict and Jie find that the reputation of hobgoblins as skilled warriors is not exaggerated, as they struggle to land a blow. Suddenly, though, Lissa leaps into the fray, and with a single blow sends the female hobgoblin to the inn's dusty, and now blood-spattered, floor. The surviving member of the pair fights on, however, dodging blows from both Grum and Amkarang while setting up his own counterattack.
Hearing Grum's words, Aubrin frowns, then one hand spastically closes around her tankard and there is a rush of energy through the room, leaving everyone - except, visibly, the two hobgoblins - feeling for a moment as though a very strong hit of liquor had just landed in their bellies. In the aftermath, Jie, Benedict, and Aubrin all find that their wounds have closed somewhat .
The survivor decides that, dagger wound or not, Jie is the lesser threat as compared to Amkarang's hammer, and steps inside the reach of the whirling weapon to stab at the ex-pirate. The wound is not deep, but bright red blood now smears Amkarang's tunic.
Lissa moves towards the remaining hob, her glaive glinting in the light. A complicated series strikes follows as she leaps forward, the blade spinning down, blocked, while the shaft strikes the beast in the head. A moment later she is back on guard.
"Jet, when we're done with taking out the trash, we'll see about the mess. Still someone needs to do something about the door"
Move - Next to hob. Ideally between hob and door, and flanking. Do not provoke.
Standard, attack hob. +2 from flank if relevant.
Lissa's blade continues to wreak havoc on the attackers, cutting a deep wound from the hobgoblin's chest.
"You came to a FESTIVAL ready for WAR! You brought a glaive to a party! Who are you people?"
Benedict charges the hobgoblin if possible.
Clearly, he hasn't ever killed anyone and that isn't changing now.
"My name's Lissa. I just got into town less than an hour ago. Jet doesn't have rooms. The glaive was a friend's. She's dead now. To hobgoblins. Are you going to close the door? Or stab this one? We can debate later."
Lissa answers his questions as she dodges the recruit.