Still gagging and retching from the disgusting snot on his beard, the brawler pushed through his discomfort.
Too preoccupied to think about drawing his new special dagger, he grabbed his morningstar and smashed down on the closest grumpkin.
----------
critical?
HP 15/15
AC 16, touch 12, flat-footed 14
Conditions: sickened until Round 3
Melee (morningstar): +4 = +1(base) +3(STR)
Melee Damage (morningstar): 1d8+4 = +4 (str), x3
4/4 Martial Flexibility
Carith looked around for the hidden gremlin, but can't seem to make out where it had gone. Eyes narrowing, the priest ignored the craven for now, swinging around the fight to bring his cold iron longsword to bear on the grumpkin closest to Brandt and Eina. One retching, the other severely wounded, the cleric had no intention of letting their foes attack the duo without bringing the priest down first.
Seeing Taecuss beset Brandt holds in his supper by will and lurches over to use his new CL morningstar on a Grumpkin (4).
Unable to keep track of the craven coward, Eina pulls out her bow and one of the new cold iron arrows. She takes aim and looses the arrow at the disgusting fey goblin.
Five foot step, reflected on the map. Fighting defensively, he will use his rapier on one of the grumpkins
AC is 17 until next round
I'm sure you're aware that fighting defensively imposes a -4 penalty to attack but I don't see it reflected in your dice roll. Its a moot point since you rolled a natty twenty. I'm sure you just forgot to add the modifier in?
The party sprung into action with a flurry of blows, cuts, and missiles. Four grumpkins collapsed in death while the last looked on powerless and afraid, knowing their fate could soon be his. The lone grumpkin knew it was more than outnumbered and decided to run for it, pulling away from the melee and climbing up the nearest wall with the ease of a spider dancing along its web.
---------------
With the apparent threat over, Pinto takes a couple of seconds to smear the snot from his beard. A proper bath was sorely needed but he had no time now.
He went over to where the devil-blooded was standing and protectively placed himself between Erodin and the rest of companions.
With his weapon still out but lowered, he asked, "What happened? Are you under someone's control or what?"
With Pinto's pointed question came a shadowy uncomfortable memory of the little gremlin's voice echoing in the back of your consciousness, forcing against your will to do its murderous bidding.
Once he stops gagging Brandt straightens up, still looking green. "Sounds like some form of spell?" He guesses. "That little monster was throwing some magic our way, at least before he scuttled off."
'Twice now I've fallen to those filthy things!' He thinks furiously, clenching his hand around his swords hilt at his own weakness.
Carith grimaced at the result of the group's handiwork, watching with sympathy as Brandt and Pinto try to clean the goop off themselves the best they can. Not one to leave others to always do the dirty work, the priest takes his blade and slices the left ear from each of the fallen grumpkins, stowing the grisly trophies before chuckling at Erodin's words. "The Lady is generous with her favorites."
At that, the cleric walks over to Eina, his eyes turning towards the heavens, "Iomedae, grant your servant the power to heal this brave woman's wounds so they she can better serve this promising yet feral land." The priest reaches over and gingerly grasps the tribeswoman's shoulder, the healing energy of his patron goddess flowing into her.
A bobbing torchlight heralded the approach of a soldier on duty, walking along the castle's battlements high above the street. The guard was approaching swiftly as if the melee had caught his eye. He shouted down to the party below,
"What goes on there?"
After hearing a the group's replies mentioning combat and enemies within the Keep's walls, the guard ran to the nearest wall muster station and rang the bell like his life depended on it. Soldiers were roused from their beds, barking dogs were leashed and readied, and leisurely soldiers drinking at the Dragon jumped to attention and ran off to duty's call. In very short order the keep's garrison began hustling along the streets, leading small search groups with torch and spear, eager to find and put down these supposed infiltrators. The wall watch was doubled and the number of torches and lanterns present grew with every passing moment.
It was not long before Captain Smuckers and his guard rounded on the adventurers, still wet with mucus and blood from the recent skirmish. Brief interviews were held and the friends' testimonies were believed without much scrutiny as they had the ring of truth, with evidence to boot. The Captain offered,
"You've done well this night. Damn glad to have you with us out here. Those buggers could have murdered us in our beds!"
Before, Eina had always been quick to smile and speak, telling stories and jokes. Not now. When Erodin apologizes, she looks at him sadly.
"The fault was not yours, but your blade nearly sent me to the rest of my kin," she tells him. "I would be wary when next we meet that one."
She finishes what Carith had started after thanking the priest.
Eina sits away from the others, looking at a bloodstained talisman that had been cut from her clothing by Erodin's attack. Her eyes are dark and the way she mutters to herself, it's like she's somewhere else and not in the keep.
Seeing Eina looking so depressed worries Brandt, once he's properly cleaned of the muck he walks over and sits beside her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Easy lass. Poor Erodin feels like falling on his own blade right now, and you look like this has bought back too many bad memories."
He gives her a reassuring smile. "Twice now they've made me the fool as well. But we're all still alive and tougher for the battles. You can share your sorrows with me if it would ease your heart."
"It has. When I say I am a lorekeeper of the Storm Ravens. I should say I am the lorekeeper. Not that it matters. When I die, so will the last of the Storm Ravens," Eina says quietly, not looking up from the talisman. On it, Brandt can see the ghosts of older blood stains marring the finish of the stylized wooden raven.
As Taecuss speaks to Smuckers the priest listens on thoughtfully, the elf's suggestions impressing the young man. It would be easy to just state that the grumpkins would be so fearful after a couple of weeks of the party delving into the wilds, hunting their ears, that they would be cowed into giving the Keep a wide berth. Instead, Taecuss thought of preventive strategies for the current situation. Carith again thanked the Inheritor for granting him such capable allies.
At Erodin's words the Cleric nods in agreement. An attack like they had just dealt with was one of two probable things...either creating mischief and discord for the Keep's defenders, or a more vicious goal, murder. Either way, a couple extra bodies on alert within the Keep's wall couldn't hurt.
As the interviews near their end and the guards start to disperse, Carith calls out to the Keep's defenders. "Iomedae grants Her blessing to those who do Her will. This Keep in these wild lands brings Her pleasure, and the Order it creates bring Her contentment. If any of you worship the Inheritor, or would like to learn more, I shall be at the chapel at sunrise." With that, he gave a quick salute to the guards before turning back to his companions.
"It's been a long day, my friends...let us go find what rest we may."
"It has. When I say I am a lorekeeper of the Storm Ravens. I should say I am the lorekeeper. Not that it matters. When I die, so will the last of the Storm Ravens," Eina says quietly, not looking up from the talisman. On it, Brandt can see the ghosts of older blood stains marring the finish of the stylized wooden raven.
Brandt looks at Eina with some sympathy, he'd seen hints of the deep sorrow she carried with her and had guessed a tragedy lay in her past. "Your tribe, your family all gone? There is nothing I can say that would be enough."
He gives her a strong hug. "All I can say is keep going little sister. You're not alone on your path. We are all new and unknown to each other, but I can already see good things coming from our meeting. Who can say what the future may hold? Someday you could be the reason the Storm Raven tribe is reborn?"
Loot:
"Thank you, Captain. We were glad to be of service. There was a gremlin with them, and it employed magic that made one of us attack another; you should warn your men. We've seen these grumpkins move through the earth before, like we would move through water. It may be that they can go through stone as well."
Taecuss considers a moment, then adds "I know that is only so much you can do to ward against magic, flying creatures, and now earth-swimmers. But consider this. Rooms that rest upon the bedrock here are vulnerable. When you have the time and labor, perhaps putting wooden floors over the stone floors may minimize their ability to take your men by surprise, even in their barracks. Sure, they could still hack through the wooden floors, but the noise would be sure to draw attention."
Smuckers was a man who wore his feelings upon his face, guileless. He was clearly impressed by the elf investigator's analysis of the situation, though he added,
"Your caution is obviously warranted and your concept would be valuable save for we do not believe the vermin can penetrate solid rock. We have killed many of them here in the Keep -notably when we retook the castle - and a number in the wilds, and always their burrowing was into soil. If they could penetrate stone I believe they would dig through the cobblestone here, which they have not. There was no damage done to the street even after all their years of occupancy. We have surveyed the cliffs around and under the castle and have yet to see evidence of burrowing damage there either. It is with that information that we have felt assured that no grumpkin can penetrate the stones beneath our feet, or beneath our homes."Then he frowns. "What is below us here, where they emerged to ambush us? Is there a room that might have been vulnerable to them, or do we stand upon the bedrock of the Keep's foundation?"
"The Keep is several centuries old and so we're not privy to the details of its construction, but we believe it rests mostly upon the raw stones and bones of Atma."
As the interviews near their end and the guards start to disperse, Carith calls out to the Keep's defenders. "Iomedae grants Her blessing to those who do Her will. This Keep in these wild lands brings Her pleasure, and the Order it creates bring Her contentment. If any of you worship the Inheritor, or would like to learn more, I shall be at the chapel at sunrise." With that, he gave a quick salute to the guards before turning back to his companions.
With security weighing more on their minds than worship, most of the soldiers went about their business without even a polite nod at the cleric's invitation. The offer was not lost on some however, and a select few gave half-hearted smiles and waved a hand in thanks, though only time would tell whether they had any intention of showing up.
A sound issued forth from behind the crates where the gremlin was last seen, a subtle stone-on-stone clink.
Giving the retreating guards a quick, friendly wave, the priest is about to take Erodin's advice when a sound catches his ear. The cleric puts his fingers to his lips as he looks at his companions, casually starting to walk closer to the crates where the gremlin was last seen, nodding his head towards the area to indicate the others should follow.
Carith made a subtle move toward the crates after hearing a soft 'clink' that sounded a bit like stone tapping stone, hoping to catch off guard whatever or whoever made the sound. He suddenly thrust forward to the darkened corner but found nothing of interest there.
Nestled in the corner between the south wall apartments and the moneychanger's vault is a section of cobblestone that has cleverly been sectioned away from the rest of the street. At a glance it appears seamless but closer inspection reveals that it could be lifted upward, possibly revealing some space or chamber beneath.
Pinto followed the cleric over to where she was looking.
"Did you hear or see something?"
He then spotted to loose stone and carefully lifted it, "Hey... what have we found here? Do you think the quartermaster knows about this?"
--------------
"Perhaps, but it would not be in our home. No longer would we dance with the ravens and the winds of the storms that shrouded the peaks of the Stormclaws. I watched and listened as my tribe died. When that day dawned, we numbered in the hundreds, and when the next dawn came, there were only thirteen, and I was the only one not in chains. Goblins and hobgoblins and bugbears came in the night and slaughtered my kin like cattle. There was no challenge. There was no honor. There was only the killing and the screaming and the blood," Eina replies, her voice raw with grief, but as she rests her head against Brandt's shoulder, he can hear the chained and terrible rage in her voice.
"The craven bastards took my family, and I will hate them for it, and I will kill them for it."
For a long moment, Eina sits there, leaning against Brandt, but before long, she reaches up and clings to him as she softly sobs into his shoulder.
"It has been three seasons, but it still hurts. I still miss them so much it hurts."
Carith claps Pinto on the shoulder. "Good eyes, friend!"
The priest nods in agreement with the devil-blooded. "Agreed...perhaps we can end this menace before it has time to root down." Drawing his blade once again, the Cleric prepares to follow into the space.
[dice=Perception]1d20+1
"Perhaps, but it would not be in our home. No longer would we dance with the ravens and the winds of the storms that shrouded the peaks of the Stormclaws. I watched and listened as my tribe died. When that day dawned, we numbered in the hundreds, and when the next dawn came, there were only thirteen, and I was the only one not in chains. Goblins and hobgoblins and bugbears came in the night and slaughtered my kin like cattle. There was no challenge. There was no honor. There was only the killing and the screaming and the blood," Eina replies, her voice raw with grief, but as she rests her head against Brandt's shoulder, he can hear the chained and terrible rage in her voice.
"The craven bastards took my family, and I will hate them for it, and I will kill them for it."
For a long moment, Eina sits there, leaning against Brandt, but before long, she reaches up and clings to him as she softly sobs into his shoulder.
"It has been three seasons, but it still hurts. I still miss them so much it hurts."
Brandt holds Eina as she sobs on his shoulder. "Not alone." He growls. "When you're ready to make them pay the blood price I'll be there!"
He stays silent after that, not wanting to give Eina hollow platitudes or empty promises. 'She's been holding this alone for too long.' He thinks grimly. 'Getting it out in the open will help her heal.
Eina cries for several minutes. Slowly, as the sobs fade into watery coughs and hiccups, she picks her head up off Brandt's shoulder and wipes away the tears.
"I am sorry for being so weak. Thank you for understanding. The outlanders, er, sorry, the people not from the tribes, they never understood why I was so angry and why I had such a hatred for the craven bastards. They always said, 'a pretty little thing like you shouldn't fight! Find a good husband and settle down. Raise a family.' They never understood."
She gives a snort of wry laughter and waved a hand dismissively in the air.
"And now I sound like some of their older children! What a sight I must make right now."
Pinto at first struggled to spot how the stone was to open as there were no apparent handholds or openings wide enough to get a finger in along its edge. After a moment of study it was discovered that the stone slab would lift on one side of the opposite was pressed downward, and so the apparently secret passage was a secret no longer. Pinto lifted the slab with ease (it seemed much too light to be made entirely of stone...possibly it was hollowed out to make it lighter or even constructed from other materials?) and set it aside, revealing a narrow chute downward into darkness. Holding a light over it the party could see it went down for about twenty feet where a northward tunnel seemed to begin. It appeared manageable but it would be a tight fit...
"It seems our quarry has escaped down into the tunnels below. Seems a tight fit, but manageable. Shall we, friends?" Assuming Erodin will be one of the first ones in, the priest calls upon his Goddess' favor once again, placing a magical light upon the devil-blooded's weapon.
The cleric then prepares to descend into the tunnel system, thinking it fitting that the dark creature would retreat to such a cavern. Best to go ahead and try to find it and clear it out so it wouldn't cause any more mischief.
Carith's descent into the tunnel was tight and uncomfortable, but there was at least one advantage to the narrowness of the tunnel - though there was no ladder or reliable handholds the tunnel was tight enough that a human could simply press their arms and legs outward to sort of slither down the length without fear of falling.
Reaching the bottom the cleric arrived at a rough-hewn hallway somewhat bigger than the chute but not quite high enough to stand at full height. This hallway was dug through solid stone with tool marks all around indicating that it was cut by conventional means. It led onward another fifty feet before arriving at a sort of landing, opening up into a larger chamber where soft pinkish-purple light could be seen and distant chanting was heard echoing back to the spelunking adventurers. There was a definitive stink of what the adventurers have come to recognize as grumpkin, leaving little doubt as to who or what dwelt here.
The small tunnel gave Pinto some concern; he hated being confined like that.
He replied to the devil-blooded, "I'll watch your back but you shouldn't go first. I can go first. I'm not stealthy but I can certainly see and hear things."
------------
Brandt gives Eiana a solid hand on her shoulder. "It's never weak to grieve. And ignore the fools who tell you not to fight. When it's 'Die on your feet, or live on your knees!' I know what I choose."
He wants to continue, but looking around can see the others seem to have vanished? "Looks like we still have some fighting to do? Are you ready?"