Finding her surrounded by guards, Cara attempts to tumble back in order to continue firing her bow.
If Cara is still up after triggering those opportunity attacks, she fires an arrow at the guard next to Nadya and Geedra.
Geedra takes a 5’ step north and casts Ear Piercing Scream at the same guard that Cara hit with an arrow.
Damage
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Katie continues on with her angry song, making a mental note to count the people fighting the guards as 'allies' for the purposes of her music.
As for her, slashing at the guard that hit her.
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Cara attempts to get out of the thick of the melee, looking to put some distance between her and the guards. In the tangle of the close-quarters bout, however, her usually graceful maneuvers falter a bit and the guards are intent to press their advantage on her heels. Still, despite the slip, the first two bladed hooks sail harmlessly over the ranger's head, but the third does score a glancing blow. .
As Cara regains her footing, she fluidly and swiftly lines up a target and fires, directing an arrow straight into the guard accosting Nadya. The arrow bites deep, punching through the man's armor and sinking into his chest. He lets out a shocked cry of pain and nearly is blown off of his feet, but he keeps his ground, though is looking quite worse for it.
Geedra follows up with an sonic blast in the form of an aural evocation only the victim can hear. He groans and shakes his head, blood dripping from his ears, but he seems to shake off the worst of the magic. The double-attack has taken its toll on him, however, and he can barely move when Nadya's offhand hatched sweeps in and hacks down into his stomach. He goes down with a gurgle.
Meanwhile, Katie punctuates a particular flourish of her angry Ulfen oration with a swipe of her longsword. The blade dances and sizzles with sparks of arcane energy down the length of its blade, and as she brings the weapon into a two handed grip as it collides with her target, it hacks straight through his arm and three-quarters of the way through his torso. He collapses unceremoniously into a wet slop of entrails.
Krosh steps forward into the spot recently vacated by Cara, putting his stout frame between the enemies and his Riders. He looks down at the guard who had slashed Cara, eyes peering out from beneath his bone helm. Without a word, he abruptly drives his boar spear into the guard's gut with a two-handed thrust. The man gasps and jerks, twitching a few times. Krosh puts his gnarled fingers around his throat and pushes him off of the head of the spear. He doesn't get up.
The ogres continue to square off against Skäne, and now fighting together they seem to be at least somewhat bolstered. They both swing with their hooks, and both connect from either side of the Ulfen warrior. The crunch of armor rings out as the ogres roar.
Skäne reels from the blows, but the fact that he is still up after taking them seems to give the ogres pause. With a poignant threat, Skäne chops into the second ogre who seems to have more meat behind his blows. His longsword catches the ogre in the bicep, biting clean down into the muscle and bone. The blow carries through, rocking out of the arm to finish its path across his chest. With a howl the second ogre falls to the ground, blood steaming in the cold air.
The remaining guard with the rest of the group stares in disbelief as all of his allies were just gutted. He drops his hook and runs. The other two guards who were on their way to attack as well slow their pace, uncertainty and caution overcoming them. This hesitation gives the rebellious crowd just enough time to collapse on top of them, punching and kicking them into the earth.
Marcian and one wounded ogre remains. Where just a few seconds ago Marcian was striding forward with a devilish grin and a haughty gait, he now looks fearful and cowed as things have gone completely against his favor instantaneously. He moves behind the ogre, trying to take him out of Skäne's sightline. "Kill him you worthless oaf, KILL HIM!"
From a bloodied mask Skäne continues to chuckle blackly as he moves against the remaining ogre;
"You heard the words. This dagr is not my death... but my blade whispers your dǫuðar-orð Komm. Listen close..."
The warrior hisses the words, then swings his reddened sword at the ogre's head;
:
:
Cara shifts to avoid any soft cover issues as she fires two arrows at the ogre if it's still up, then at Marcian.
Geedra happily scampers forward, remaining 30’ from Skane. She places the Fortune Hex on the large Brawler, confident that he will dispose of the enemies quickly, especially with Cara’s excellent marksmanship.
As for Katie, she whispers a quick Cure Light Wounds spell before rushing up next to Skane and poking him with it.
She may be singing an angry song, but it's worth making sure that he doesn't die.
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With most of the enemies down, you press the advantage. Geedra scurries around the others to get a bit closer to Skäne, Marcian, and the ogre. She intones a hex, weaving the subtle machinations of fortune and fate around Skäne. The viking's muscles surge as he makes the ogre keenly aware of his own mortality, his bloody blade crashing into the side of the swaying ogre's skull. The sword buries deep in the giant's head, and when the brute falls over he nearly pulls the sword from Skäne's hand.
Marcian blinks, stupefied, and drops his hook to the ground as Katie, Nadya, and Krosh also advance to join Skäne. He opens his mouth to speak, but Cara has already fired off a pair of arrows. The sounds of them hitting him are audible, a deep thud as on buries into his chest, and a crack as the second penetrates his skull right between his eyes. He has nothing more to say, falling backwards unceremoniously onto the ground.
With all the enemies fallen, the belligerent crowd who had taken this opportunity to bring some of their own justice start to gather around you. They seem to have an unfamiliar energy about them, and a few of them cheer. One man speaks up. "Can't believe it...Marcian and his thugs are dead - and the ogres too. We've been under their heel for far too long...t'is an ancestor's shame that it took these outsiders to show us bravery and honor, but it was not too late."
There is a murmur of agreement through the crowd, along various proclamations of "Death to Marcian, death to the witch-slaves," "we're free," "ancestors bless you, strangers," and similar sentiments.
Nadya looks at the rest of you with a grin on her face. "Seems like your supporters swell wherever you go."
"They will need all support they can muster, and yet will need much more than that still if the Witch Queen is to be defeated," comes Krosh's deep voice from behind. "These small victories pale to the true fight ahead."
Geedra cackles as she scurries forward and slaps the warrior on the back. ”Good job, big human! Ogres am not as tough as look,” she says.
As the foes are felled and the victory shouts of the fish-camp folk are raised Skäne allows the mantle of his battle-rage to leave him...
He blinks with a hard smile, weariness replacing the red-mist. He is aware of a distant thud as Geedra slaps his back, then all fades to black...
At the goblins pat the warrior keels over...
:
... his wounds weeping life blood...
Cara gasps slightly as Skäne hits the floor, "Krosh, could you please bring him back to life?"
She then looks to Nadya, "Then we find your uncle, yes?"
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Geedra nudges Skane with her boot, to see if he was playing a joke. Seeing no smile, she sighs and uses a Cure Light Wounds Spell on him.
CLW
”Get up, big human. Crowd am watching!”
Krosh supplements Geedra's healing spell with his own, kneeling to place a hand bathed in silver light on the beleaguered warrior. "As I say, not yet your time." He then holds out his hand to help Skäne to his feet.
After a bit the crowd starts to disperse, though many walk by the group and give them thanks or nods or pats on the back or shoulder. Nadya's eyes move to the lodge. "My uncle should be inside.." she says in a tone of grim hope. She leads the way to the door.
Entering the lodge, you can see that it is much less impressive than what Marcian's haughty demeanor would have one believe. The main room is sparsely furnished with just a few tables and chairs placed haphazardly about. The place looks in a sorry state of disrepair, with the tacked-on additions to expand the place for the ogres looking the most in need of service. Two sleeping pallets in this room are the main source of the sour smell that permeates the building. Two doors lead off of this main room at the back of the lodge. The room on the left opens into a bedroom housing a simple bed, a dresser, and a small table. Underneath the bed you can spot a metal footlocker. Upon seeing no sign of her uncle in this room, Nadya quickly moves to the next.
Behind the second door, the room is empty of furnishing but has a straw mat and a ratty blanket on the floor. Sitting in the corner, back against the wall and hands bound tight at the wrist, is a middle-aged human man with dirty blonde hair, beard, and thick mustache. He's dressed in grimy, ragged clothing and a gag is stuffed in his mouth. He looks a bit battered and bruised, with several old scars upon his face as well. Upon hearing the door open, he groggily looks to it, and then his eyes perk up when he sees who it is.
Nadya rushes over and takes a knee, pulling the gag from the man's mouth. "Uncle!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around him.
"Nadya..could that be you?" he says in a gruff, tired voice. "What...how, what are you doing here?"
Nadya pulls back from the embrace and smiles weakly. "I came here for your help, but I guess you needed mine first. These are my friends. I've traveled with them all the way from Waldsby. They are the ones who truly need your help - it's a long story, but they are here to fight the witches."
Ringeirr raises an eyebrow, looking past his niece to the rest of the group. "Is that...is that so? Well then I've a story for you as well..but first get me out of these bindings and I'll take you to my home."
Geedra let’s the others find the Uncle. She stops in the front room and casts Detect magic on the room. She then moves onto the bedroom, eyes glistening greedily at the metal footlocker. She peeks at it, looking for any traps.
Perception
Skäne gladly accepts the hand and is hauled to his feet.
The warrior gives a weary smile as he survey's the righteous bloodshed wrought.
"Not minn dauðadagr indeed... Minn thanks to you all."
Battered and tired from his bersekr rage, Skäne follows the group painfully inside, and like Geedra seems as interested in the locker as the rescued man;
"Before we go Ringeirr... The Puka has further business..."
He tips the nod toward where the diminutive goblin attended to the footlocker.
"That went much better than it could have." Cara observes as Skäne returns to consciousness, "You did well, warrior."
She then turns her attention to Nadya's uncle, as she pulls out a dagger to free him, "It is good to finally find you. Do you need anything else before we return to your home?"
Skäne flashes a hard smile at Cara's word's;
"Not well enough Álfrmær ... One of the fat bastarðr almost gutted me... Too damned slow with my skoldd ."
Geedra does indeed detect a magical aura within the footlocker. The box is locked, but Marcian's key succeeds in opening it. Within is a small leather bag holding 4 uncut rubies, a bag with 176 gp, a silver mirror engraved with an image of two figures embracing, and a stick of yew wood carved in arcane glyphs, which proves to be a wand of spider climb with 17 charges.
At the bottom of the locker is a sack with a club, a knife, quilted armor, and other assorted gear. As Ringeirr staggers out of the room he was held and peers over to see the items being removed from the locker, he speaks up. "I'd have my weapons and armor back, if you don't mind...the rest of it is yours, far as I'm concerned."
Nadya helps her uncle out of the home and he leads you across the fishcamps to a modest hut near the edge of the village. You enter into a small but cozy living chamber with a table, assortment of chairs, and a fireplace. Nadya moves Ringeirr into a chair and immediately starts a fire in the hearth as her uncle motions for your all to come in and sit.
"Make yourselves comfortable...I don't have much but we can get some food going...least I can do." He rubs his neck, scratching under his beard, takes a pipe from the side table next to him and lights it. After a long drag he sighs. "Before we talk about what you need from me...if you'd indulge me...I'd like to hear your story. What brings you here, and what has inspired you to combat the jadwiga?"
Skäne eyes his companions, particularly those with a looser tongue, to tell their tale...
As the warrior sits down, he produces his own pipe, packing it and taking a light from the freed Ringeirr;
"I'm more of a smoker and a listener auld one. I'll let others tell our tale..."
Geedra smiles at seeing the collected treasures in the locker. ”Gold am buy good stuff!”
She sits and waits for the offered food. ”Group come from elsewhere. Am getting winter there when am not winter time. Group find Black Rider and am looking for way to get to town and ...”
After looking at Nadya for a moment for confirmation of the man's trustworthiness, Cara submits the major details of their quest thus far, although leaving out all references to Baba Yaga, unless specifically pressed towards them.
Ringeirr listens intently to the tale of your travels, sipping a cup of hot broth that Nadya brings to him as he does so. He doesn't say anything during your recollections, but occasionally glances over to Nadya, who will often give him a reaffirming nod. Once the tale reaches current events, he sits for a few minutes, processing the information before responding.
"You have come a long way and gone through much peril. You have done a service to the people of this land for the witches you have slain and their minions you have bested. You now, however, swim in the belly of the beast. Whitethrone is the heart of the jadwigas' strength and authority. It will be no easy task to get in, and harder still to survive. Fortunately, I believe we can help each other...You see, there is a resistance in Whitethrone, secretive and underground..the Heralds of Summer's Return. What started as a hidden cult of the goddess Milani has grown into something more. I met them after the untimely loss of my wife and son, and they have given me purpose. They operate against the jadwiga and work to free the oppressed people of this land. I smuggle people out and supplies in. If you wish to gain entrance to Whitethrone, I can help, and once inside take you to the Heralds themselves, who can work with you to accomplish your aims."
"It has grown far more difficult to enter the city than ever since Elvanna has overstayed her reign. She has set martial law upon the city, throwing out the Iron Guard and putting in her own Winter Guard as the new military. Traffic in and out of the city has slowed to a bloated seal's pace, and everyone is searched. You also need papers to move about the city, as the Winter Guard stops people at all times to see them. I have a man that can forge papers...even has some magical talent and can get household symbols put on them for a little extra authenticity. If you're serious about getting in, Mortin's the man to do it. He lives at the edge of the Howlings, a district controlled by winter wolves. Winter wolves that can take human form due to some ancient magic. Sounds dangerous, but the Howlings are our best bet to get in. The wolves aren't the most dutiful, and are known to accept bribes. I've got a food delivery I'm to make to the resistance, so I can go with you and get you to Solveig, the leader of the Heralds."
Ringeirr stands, obviously still in a bit of pain, and walks over to a window, looking out towards Whitethrone. "None of this will be easy. but we all do what we must. My plan is your best bet, I think, take it or leave it."
Geedra shrugs her shoulders. ”Idea am good as any. Geedra am excited to see the Hut!”. As always, Geedra cut the fluff, and went right to the point.
Skäne nods, his scarred brow knotting in thought as he weighs the man's words;
"Puka has the right of it. The plan is weal with the potential of woe, but we have little option than to trust in the skein of fate... I am in."
Ringeirr raises a furry eyebrow at mention of the hut. "Aye, I've heard there's a hut in the city, on display...not sure of too much else, but Solveig can tell you more, I expect. I suggest we all get some rest. We've naught but trouble and hardship ahead of us. Sleep wherever you wish. I've furs and blankets enough around for everyone, I think. Eat and drink what you will. I owe you my life, after all."
After you've had your share of food and drink and have gathered suitable accessories for bedding, you find that sleep takes you easily this night, after a long day in enemy territory.
You rouse to the sound of somewhat hushed voices in the next room. Nadya, Ringeirr, and Krosh seem to be having a discussion.
"...I've been with them this far, Uncle, I want to see things to the end." Nadya says in a stern voice.
"It's too dangerous, Nadya. We are going into the belly of the beast and-" Ringeirr begins, but Nadya cuts him off.
"I am not a little girl, Uncle. I am more than capable of handling myself. I've provided my family alone for all these hard years and I've fought worse and worse dangers alongside them. I want to see these witches out of our lands."
"I know you are a strong and capable sort, Nadya, but you've played your part. You got them this far, but it is time to pass the reins. Let someone else risk their neck now, and it may as well be an old tired man with less to live for than you."
"The man is right, Huntress," comes Krosh's voice, low and deep. "Your role in this is complete. The spirits have showed this to me. I have seen you and your pups in a village, peaceful. It is their will for me to serve them now. I have no family, and my life is for the spirits to command."
"He's right, Nadya, think of your children. They've lost a father...a sister...don't let them lose their mother to. They need you, and you need them. I've lost everyone else, I don't want to lose you too. Please, do an old man a favor and go back to your children."
There is a long silence, before a reticent Nadya speaks again. "Fine...fine...for them. And for you."
The next morning you gathering your things and have a simple meal of bread and cheese. Ringeirr is still banged up but is nevertheless up and ready to carry on the plan. When you exit the lodging, you see that Nadya has her dogs and sled ready, packed with supplies, and is bundled up for travel. She has a few tears in her eyes but is quick to wipe them away.
"This is where we part ways," she announces. "I...I've brought you as far as I can. You're in Uncle Ringeirr's hands now, and he will get you to where you need to be. As much as I want to accompany you and fight the witches for all they have done to my people...to me...I...I need to return to my children. I am ever grateful to have met all of you, and for all you have done. I hope we meet again."
After your goodbyes, Ringeirr leads you through and out of the Fishcamps towards the Howlings, but makes a stop to get a handcart full of fish along the way. He explains that he is due to make a food delivery to needy folk in the city on behalf of the Heralds, and hopes that you'll help him do so, adding in that it will help in making a better cover for your travels through the city.
"A few things before we reach the Howlings," he says. "First, you can't walk around the city with all that gear. Leathers and furs are all right, and you can carry a knife, but metal armor and all other weapons are forbidden unless you have papers saying otherwise. Best we take your gear, wrap it, and hide it under the fish. I know you won't like parting with it in such dangerous territory, but trust me it'll be less dangerous not carrying it."
Assuming your compliance, you follow Ringeirr's instructions and stow your weapons and such beneath the fish in the cart. "Don't worry, once we get you your papers you'll be able to wear it all again. But first we have to get through the Howlings. Oh, and in case I didn't mention, the winter wolves in the Howlings got some magic about them that lets them take human form. Some sort of eons-old witchcraft, don't ask me. It's queer by my reckoning, makes no sense, but who am I? No witch, anyway."
The Howlings are not far from the Fishcamps, and the path you take brings you right up to the walls of Whitethrone. They tower 30 feet high and have the appearance of giant, sharpened femurs fused together, though a second glance shows they are smoothed stonework the color of bleached bone. Massive skulls of the same bone-white stone top the walls, staring out with blank gazes outward from the city in all directions. A rough road of frozen mud, churned and trampled from the traffic of countless feet, leads through an opening in the wall, which appears to have been deliberately left unfinished.
As you approach the breach, a humanoid woman strides out to meet you. Tall and pale with shoulder length silver hair, bright blue eyes, and smooth features, she is certainly an attractive specimen by human standards despite the annoyed scowl she wears. She's dressed in brown and grey furs, wears a gray suit of chain armor, and carries a very large axe over her shoulder. A long cape sweeps across the frozen mud. At about ten paces from you, she sniffs the air, and casts a cool gaze slowly over the group. Her eyes fall on Geedra, and she walks towards the goblin.
"And what is your business here?" she asks in an icy tone. Ringeirr begins a response, but is cut off after one word. "Was I speaking to you old man? I didn't think so. Out with it, runt."
”Am here to deliver fish. Lot of poor hungry in town. Like the fish whole lot,” Geedra says, gesturing to the full sled of fish the group had with them.
”Want a fish? Am very good,” Geedra says as she steps forward and takes a bite out of one of the slightly stinky cargo. ”Am delicious!”
The big warrior slumbers through the eve, and readies himself for the journey on the morrow.
When talk turns of losing weapons and armour, the vikingr grits his teeth then nods in dark-mooded agreement;
"Ach... I do nei like it, but we have fár choice."
He gathers together his arms, armour and shield then turns his attention to armoring himself best he can -
Skäne stands tall behind the goblin, trying to look imposing whilst bereft of his chainmail, battered shield and notched sword;
"No eating the goods Puka! How many times we tell you!?"
The warrior growls at Geedra, then eyes the tall woman;
"Apologies Lady. We are simply here to sell fish. The little one here can fillet quicker than any halfling or gnome... good worker, when not eating the catch!"
:
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She notices nothing, and largely keeps to herself aside saying goodbye to their guide so far.
Katie is awakened from her daydreams of wolves, the human forms they take, and the possible romantic implications of them and otherwise unassuming women (it still feels like it's missing something, but she'll figure it out later) by the imposing and rather appealing woman's approach.
She sees that Skane and Geedra likely have it, and stills her tongue. Katie still would rather not use it on someone who looks like they can use her as a javelin.
The woman looks down her nose at Geedra, furrowing her brow at the goblin's display. "I prefer my meat fresh from the kill," she says in a strange mix of menace and nonchalance. When Skäne chastises Geedra, her gaze glides over to the ulfen warrior, and a wry smirk cracks her visage. She straightens her stance and walks away from the witch to interact with Skäne. She sniffs at the air as she draws near, and comes near toe to toe with the man. "Here to sell fish, eh? You are an interesting lot of fisherfolk..." She grins, her teeth bone-white and her incisors a little sharper than they should be. "But I suppose whatever means you need to survive, eh?" She barks a laugh. "You can do sell your dead meat, as soon as you show me your papers."
Ringeirr is quick to react, shuffling through his furs to produce a piece of parchment. He goes over to the woman and offers them, opening his mouth to speak, but she silences him once again, snatching the paper from his hands. "These are in order...for you. Not your fisher-friends. Too bad." She throws the papers on the ground, then leans towards Skäne. "Though I might be willing to look the other way, if you can make it worth my while," she muses, rubbing her thumb against her her fingers.
Skäne eyes the tall woman, and nods mirroring her wolfish smile;
"Of course..."
The warrior retrieves a pair of crimson gemstones from his belt pouch, displaying them to her;
"Blod-stein... ... Each worth 50 gull . I planned to give them to the mær that stole my heart, not who would forswelgan it."
He utters a black chuckle, then offers up the gemstones.
:
The woman stares hard and cold for a moment at Skäne. Her interest is seemingly piqued by the warrior who so boldly returns her grin. She sniffs the air again, perhaps habitually, and her eyes fall upon the stones, then away to the left, then back up to Skäne. "Often the two are one in the same," she retorts. "Double your offering, and your pack may pass this time," she swiftly adds.
Krosh, standing behind Katie and Cara on the other side of the cart, stoops slightly to whisper to the two. "It is as Ringeirr said... a she-wolf in human skin." Something about his tone makes it evident that you shouldn't underestimate this creature.
Geedra shrugs her shoulders. ”Am lot of gold to get sell fish,” she grumbles.
"Yeah... that's almost too much... just to make up overhead we'd have to sell..."
She tics off numbers on her fingers.
"That's... a lot of fish? Maybe I could sell some art on the side."
Geedra nods at Skane, telling him to pay the man. Or the wolf, or whatever.
Skäne mulls the wolfish woman's statement, then gives a resigned nod.
He produces two more of the blood red gemstones, offering all four up;
"All I have."
Cara stands off to the side, looking away with distraction while the others use a diplomatic approach to deal with the various impediments in their quest. Although she appears slightly uncomfortable, that could be due to her dislike of human cities or perhaps she'd rather just deal with matters with her arrows despite the need for discretion.
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The wolf-woman eyes the gems, sniffs the air, and snatches them. "Good boy," she says with a snarling smirk. She stows her bribe in her cloak and stands up straight, shifting the weight of her greataxe. "Go on then. Sell your fish." She barks a laugh and walks toward the nearby guardhouse, granting you passage.
Ringeirr quickly pushes the cart through the "gate" and you follow along. Once on the other side of the wall, you catch your first glimpse of the interior of the white city. The streets of the Howlings wind back and forth crookedly, and are lined with wooden houses covered in intricate and detailed woodwork. Unlike in the Fishcamps, even the poorest homes are in good repair, pleasantly decorated, and painted a clean white or light pastel color. The rooftops are steeply pitched to allow heavy snow to slide off. Covered alleyways run between some closely adjacent buildings, sheltering ground-floor entrances from the elements. In other places, open-air bridges or crosswalks join buildings together at their upper levels. Snowdrifts lie heaped between houses, but the streets are shoveled and brushed clean. There is little sign of domestic animals, but handcarts are parked outside some residences.
Ringeirr looks wary, his eyes sweeping the alleys and the rooftops. "Stay close, let's move...as soon as we drop off these fish we can go see my man about those papers. Remember your place in here - don't mess with the authority unless we absolutely have to. This way." He pushes the cart on down the road, which banks left as it moves in between buildings, and then turns right again after fifty feet or so.
As the road curves, you see a half-circle of carts sitting in an arc against the entrance to a covered alley - somewhat of a strange sight. Ringeirr seems focused on the road ahead and keeps pushing the cart, and Katie seems lost in her head, looking off to the left side of the road. The rest of the party, however, sees movement behind the carts, putting them on alert.
A squealing voice in Skald suddenly comes out from somewhere above. "Leave your fisheys, longshanks. Get out of here or die! Hahahahaha!" Suddenly, 5 goblins leap up onto the carts from their hiding spots behind them, bows in their hands. On top of the covered alley behind them, another goblin appears, brandishing a crude looking morningstar. You notice these goblins all have features rather similar to Geedra's.
In fact, as the goblin leader, teen feet above on top of the alley, scans the scene, his eyes stop on the witch. "Geedra?! GEEDRA?! YOU STEALS FROM US! YOU THINK WE FORGOTS?! KILL GEEDRA, BOYS!!"
It would appear as though Geedra has been reunited with a few goblins from her tribe.
Cara: 17
Goblins: 13
Skane: 12
Geedra: 11
Krosh: 2
perc:
”Poog send tribe, eh? If any tribe left, tell Poog Geedra not forget when Poog am hit Geedra with pot! That jade is Geedra’s! Geedra have friends not throw rocks and hit with pots now. Run ....Geedra am strong,” the witch shouts at the ambushers.
As the goblin gang descends upon our hapless fishmongers, Skäne stands tall and bellows a warning at the nearest;
"Geedra our Puka. Any of you touch her I will fillet you like yesterday's catch!"
:
Assuming goblins can't be reasoned with due to personal experience, Cara steps five feet to the northwest and fires an arrow at the closest enemy.
The lead goblin, who Geedra recognizes as Grindtooth, stomps and shouts. "Poog not knowing you here, GEEDRA, but we deliver head to Poog to play DOG-HEAD BALL WITH YOUR HEAD. KILL, BOYS, KILL!"
Surprise Round:
Cara is the first to act, regarding the goblinoid exchange with a cool nonchalance before fluidly stepping forward, slipping an arrow into bowstring before letting loose. The arrow strikes hard, but unfortunately it bites deep into the wood of the cart one of the goblins is standing on. Still, it is enough to make the goblin hop and shriek in fright.
The goblins retaliate in a volley of their own arrows. Most seem to be aiming for Geedra, despite the allies between her and them. The three enemies nearest to the group let fly at their former tribemate, but their arrows fall either onto the ground around, or glance the armor of her larger compatriots. The two rearmost goblins fire at Skäne, the closest human. The first arrow sails wide, but the second looks well to strike true, but the warrior's shield appears as is from nowhere in the last moment the deflect the blow.
Meanwhile, Grindtooth produces a potion flash from his fur vest and quaffs it in one gulp.
Skäne roars a threatening challenge to the goblins, but they don't seem to phased by his words. Their burning hatred towards Geedra seems to steel them for the nascent battle.
Bow1:
Bow2:
Bow3:
Bow4:
Bow5:
Geedra casts Heroism on Cara, knowing the archer is the best chance at picking off the goblin archers from range.
”Grindtooth ugly and dumb still. Geedra take ears of all tribe that attacks group again! Am last warning. Other tribe can leave, no problem...Grindtooth ears belong Geedra now!”. The little goblin moves to cover from the majority of the archers, if possible.
Geedra moves up behind Cara and uses a bit of her witchcraft to bestow heroic fortune on the archer, granting her increased accuracy.
Krosh holds firm and raises a hand in up in front of his face. He murmurs a few words and flames bust to life in his palm. He eyes the goblins, preparing to smite them with it.
Cara: 17
Goblins: 13
Katie: 13
Skane: 12
Geedra: 11
Krosh: 2