All three of Freyja's arrows miss the "goblin". She looks accusingly at her bow like it's somehow its fault. Trjega's claws rip #11's belly into shreds, but it still stands. Sarge overestimates the morlock's AC, beheads it with ease, and follows up with a slash across #4's chest. Both morlocks fall.
The engineer hobs both continue to prove that trying the same thing and expecting a different result is the true definition of derpitude, as #1 whiffs on Freyja again and #2 tries to wriggle out of Grevayne's grasp.
"Goblin" #1 casts a spell on Sarge.
Sarge suddenly feels as if this fight is impossible to win. In fact, they should abandon the entire resistance against the Ironfang Legion. It is too strong! He and his friends have no hope of victory!
"Goblin" #2 also casts a spell, but this one was on itself. Afterwards, it appears to be blinking in and out of existence. Hitting it might prove difficult .
Morlock #11 continues to fail to free itself from Trjega.
Morlock #4 (86 damage, unconscious and dying)
Morlock #6 (104 damage, so dead)
Morlock #7 (75 damage, unconscious and dying)
Morlock #8 (75 damage, unconscious and dying)
Morlock #11 (60 damage, grappled)
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Sarge (82/123 hp, -2 attack/saves/skill/damage [9 minutes])
Trjega (75/75 hp, grappled)
Grevayne (23+5/91 hp, flying, grappled)
Engineer #1 (0 damage)
Engineer #2 (11 damage, grappled)
"Goblin" #1 (0 damage)
"Goblin" #2 (0 damage, 50% concealment against attacks/spells)
Bold may act!
Freyja moves away from engineer #1 again and tries (again) to shoot "goblin" #1.
Trjega tries to finish off the final morlock.
Grevayne continues feeding and tightens his grip on the hob's neck, causing the bones of its vertebrae to pop loudly and the muscle underneath to bruise.
A sudden sheen of sweat bursts forth on Sarge's skin as he stares down the huge, misshapen beasts lumbering toward him, his mouth drying out as all the moisture escapes through his pores. This crushing despair isn't quite fear, but it's close enough to the emotion to make him deeply uncomfortable. Once upon a time, he was immune to such cowardly emotions. Now he feels fear just like anyone else, and embarrassingly often. But fear he can push through, put it at the back of his mind and ignore it to do what needs to be done.
But this... this he can't set aside. This understanding of how spectacularly stupid and arrogant he has been. To think he could take on the might of the gods-damned Ironfang Legion?? The hubris! These hideous otherworldly not-goblins are only the tip of their monstrous iceberg. Who knows what greater horrors lurk in their ranks? He was so sure, so f+%!ing sure his martial prowess was exactly what these plebeians needed to secure victory. He is an old man in a suit of mail. His arm is weaker than it has ever been, he wakes up to aching joints and a persistent cough, his footwork has become sloppy and clumsy as his vastus medialis muscles atrophy. There is nothing more pathetic than a warrior who refuses to see when his time is past. And now these hideous fiends are going to tear him limb from limb for his supreme arrogance.
"Mein gott," he whispers.
He can't bear to take more than a hesitant step toward them, raising his shield feebly.
Then he grits his teeth. Old fool, he mentally chastises himself. What is he doing, wallowing in pity? The odds do not matter. Victory does not matter. He is a soldier, not a gods-damned crusader. A soldier that seeks glory dies stupid. Soldiers don't risk their lives daily for glory. They don't fight for recognition or some idiotic chivalric code. The soldier fights because it's his f+~*ing job.
Rainart Vargus sets his jaw. "Get over yourself," he growls to no one, "and do your verdammt job."
He doesn't feel any better, but at least he gets his foolish emotions under control and steps up to the task he has come here to do. He takes a deep breath, tightens his grip on his shield, and strides up to the nearer of the two "goblins" to menace it with Vergeltung.
Freyja's manyshot hits #1, but the third and fourth arrows miss. It would seem Freyja has suddenly lost the ability to shoot.
Trjega has better luck, finishing off morlock #11 in gruesome fashion; its entrails now decorate the ground below.
Grevayne continues to feed and Sarge shows resolve in the face of literally impossible odds.
Engineer #1 seems to have figured out it is wasting its time on Freyja. It turns and bolts toward the front gates.
Engineer #2 is weakening in Grevayne's death grip. It feebly attempts to escape again but fails.
"Goblin" #2 casts a spell and its and #1's muscles grow considerably. #1 bites and swipes its claws at Sarge, but all of its attacks are turned aside by Sarge's considerable defenses.
Morlock #4 (86 damage, dead)
Morlock #6 (104 damage, dead)
Morlock #7 (75 damage, dead)
Morlock #8 (75 damage, dead)
Morlock #11 (102 damage, dead)
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Sarge (82/123 hp, -2 attack/saves/skill/damage [9 minutes])
Trjega (75/75 hp, grappled)
Grevayne (23+5/91 hp, flying, grappled)
Engineer #1 (24 damage)
Engineer #2 (23 damage, grappled)
"Goblin" #1 (29 damage)
"Goblin" #2 (0 damage, 50% concealment against attacks/spells)
Bold may act!
Freyja glances Trjega's way to see the lynx finish off a morlock. She points at the fleeing engineer and screams, "Trjega! Attack!" Then she tries again to hit "goblin" #1.
Trjega sprints off in pursuit of engineer #1.
Grevayne's fingers dig into the hob's flesh at the back of his neck as he tears and slurps more blood.
Finally sated, the dhampir tears his face away, licking his blood-soaked lips with a near-feral look of pleasure on his face as he stares at his hobgoblin prey.
Hand still shaking, Sarge brings his blade down on the not-goblin with as much force as he can muster.
Freyja's aim is improving; three arrows hit this time! Trjega barely catches up with engineer #1 before it can go find more friends. Grevayne does things that are best left unmentioned. Sarge's actions are best left unmentioned as well, but for completely different reasons.
Engineer #1 whiffs hard on Trjega, while #2 stands and recovers from Grevayne's exsanguination .
With Sarge's guard lowered, "Goblin" #1 has much better luck, raking him with both of its claws and finishing off with a crushing bite on the big man's shoulder .
"Goblin" #2 has had about enough of Freyja's BS. It moves closer to her and fires a spell her way.
Freyja feels like giving up for the briefest of moments, but reminds herself that it's just the stupid monster playing tricks on her and shakes it off.
Morlock #4 (86 damage, dead)
Morlock #6 (104 damage, dead)
Morlock #7 (75 damage, dead)
Morlock #8 (75 damage, dead)
Morlock #11 (102 damage, dead)
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Sarge (43/123 hp, -2 attack/saves/skill/damage [9 minutes])
Trjega (75/75 hp)
Grevayne (23+15/91 hp, flying)
Engineer #1 (24 damage)
Engineer #2 (38 damage)
"Goblin" #1 (71 damage, bull strength)
"Goblin" #2 (0 damage, 50% concealment against attacks/spells, bull strength)
Bold may act!
Freyja tries to finish off #1.
Trjega goes to town on engineer #1. He should've kept running.
Sarge shivers as he steps up to the second goblin fiend. How is he supposed to hit an enemy he can only see half the damn time? Not for the first time in his life, he curses magic in all its forms as he swings out against the beast.
Grevayne lets go of his quarry in order to slam his one good fist into him, channeling raw force into the blow.
Freyja puts barghest #1 down just as Trjega puts engineer #1 down. Sarge finds the remaining barghest's spell difficult to deal with and Grevayne friggin' explodes the remaining engineer's head.
The final remaining combatant attacks Sarge. Even as it blinks in and out of the material plane, Sarge is on to its tricks and dodges effectively. The final claw is just a bit too fast, however; it opens up another gash on Sarge's thigh .
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Sarge (34/123 hp, -2 attack/saves/skill/damage [9 minutes])
Trjega (75/75 hp)
Grevayne (23+15/91 hp, flying)
"Goblin" #2 (0 damage, 50% concealment against attacks/spells, bull strength)
Bold may act!
Freyja turns her attention to the last barghest. Trying to focus on it is difficult, so she settles on putting arrows into the space it usually occupies, hoping that will be good enough.
"Trjega! Flank!"
Trjega moves into a flank with the bargest , then tries to bite it.
Sarge swallows down bile and takes a few quick breaths to try and get his damn nerves under control. Put some power behind that swing, soldier! The timeless words of Drill Sergeant Grognak ring in his ears. The orc was a vile, brutal, sadistic man, but damned if he didn't train competent soldiers.
Get to work, old man, he thinks to himself. Doesn't matter that the work is pointless, that it will only end in his and everyone's inevitable death as they're swarmed over by the monstrous tides of the Ironfang Legion. You don't do the work to win, you do the work because it needs doing.
Grevayne, amped up on the rush of fresh blood coursing through him, tries to flex his right hand experimentally. Yet even the infusion of blood from a fresh kill does nothing to help the hand. He supposes that makes sense; it quenches his unnatural thirst, but has never cured his diseases or afflictions.
Ah, well.
He glances at the barghest lighting up Sarge, whose defenses are some of the best he's ever seen, and shakes his head. He mutters an incantation and twists his fingers together in a complex pattern, and an invisible disc of force appears before him.
He then launches himself into the sky and toward the final barghest, keeping lower than he'd like to avoid notice from inside the walls.
The barghest's blink spell has paid for itself several times over at this point, as all six attacks against it miss. Fortunately, the barghest also misses its attack of opportunity on Trjega as she slides into a flank.
It turns its attention to Trjega, figuring she will be an easier target than Sarge. Only one claw makes contact, opening a ragged gash in the lynx's chest .
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Sarge (34/123 hp, -2 attack/saves/skill/damage [9 minutes])
Trjega (65/75 hp)
Grevayne (23+15/91 hp, flying, shield)
"Goblin" #2 (0 damage, blink, bull strength)
Bold may act!
Freyja doesn't know what else to do; her magic isn't of the type that can counter the barghest's protective spell. So she just does what she does: fire arrows.
Bite, claw, claw.
Grevayne flies down and lands next to Sarge, hoping to lend a hand in the miss-fest, and throws one swing at the blinking barghest. Now that he's in close and not... er, preoccupied, he tries to remember what he can about them.
He mentally chastises himself for not carrying a scroll of dispel magic as he swings once at the fiend.
Far from feeling better having an ally at his side, Sarge suppresses a shudder at being next to such an unnatural creature. These are his allies? Are they any better than the creatures he's fighting against? Is there a damn point to any of this?
He swallows bile and swings out against the fiend again. Unfortunately, there's no way he can hit while splitting his concentration so much, so he lets his defenses drop in order to focus on accuracy.
Freyja finally punches through the barghest's defenses while it is on the material plane; the manyshot arrows both slam home, and the beast shrieks in pain. Trjega also manages to make contact with the creature, but its natural defenses prevent her from doing any damage whatsoever. Grevyane punches the crap out of it and Sarge double whiffs.
Now that the barghest is suffering damage, it seems to rethink its situation. It casts a quick glance toward the gates, then back at the intruders surrounding it. It shrugs and then blinks out of existence.
It dimension doored, yo.
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Sarge (34/123 hp, -2 attack/saves/skill/damage [9 minutes])
Trjega (65/75 hp)
Grevayne (23+15/91 hp, flying, shield)
Grevayne is covered in bleeding wounds. He starts tapping himself with his wand of inflict light wounds to rectify that.
When he's finished, most of his wounds are gone. He shrugs--it will have to do. They are on a clock with his spells.
Sarge shuffles up to the others, looking haggard and miserable. He glances morosely at the dark energies pouring over Grevayne's body and healing his wounds. "I do not suppose you have any of that to spare, ya?"
Grevayne gives the soldier a deadpan stare as he taps himself over and over. "I promise, you do not want any of this. It has an unsightly effect on the fully living."
Sarge's shoulders slump and he sighs, turning to Freyja. "Do you have any conventional healing magic? Potions, or anything? I am in rough shape. Those barghests were--" He stops himself before saying "terrifying." It's not quite the right word, but he isn't entirely sure how to describe the mix of ennui and horror they brought on. He shakes his head. "Anyway. I am in need of healing. Can you help?"
Freyja waves Trjega and Sarge over and pulls one of her healing wands out of her pack.
With everyone healed up, the open gates of Ecru beckon. You haven't seen the hobgoblin troop that Freyja mentioned, so you suspect it must still be waiting inside, either somehow unaware of your presence or under orders not to leave their post.
The wand fizzles out about halfway through his process, leaving the magus with a significant number of wounds still in place. He grumbles to himself and angrily shoves the useless thing into his pack. "No time to waste. Let us see what this place has in store for us."
Not keen on making himself a target, he taps himself with the invisibility wand and says, "Let us go for the front gate. Sergeant, you draw their attention. Freyja and I will try to take them by surprise."
With that, he starts moving toward the open gates of Ecru.
Sarge leads the way, making no effort to hide his sound. He takes his time walking up so that Freyja and Trjega can sneak off to the side or range ahead as they wish. He keeps blade and shield in hand, forehead beaded with perspiration. This is a terrible plan. They're going to die. Especially Grevayne. He looks like he's on Death's door at the best of times; now he looks like an actual walking corpse. In fact, if his wounds weren't actively bleeding instead of congealing, he might actually be able to mistake Grevayne for a zombie.
Well, he has no better ideas, so he follows the invisible dhammpir's command and strides forward toward the gates.
Trjega follows, carefully placing her feet in the footprints Freyja leaves behind.
Freyja waves Trjega along, holding a finger to her lips, and tries to sneak through the gates and find cover.
Turns out Sarge didn't need to wait for Freyja and Trjega, because the troop immediately spots them the moment they cross the threshold. A call of "Attack!" (in Goblin) erupts from one of the hobs in the troop, and, just like that, it's on again.
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Trjega (73/75 hp)
Grevayne (43+15/91 hp, shield, invisible, flying)
Troop (0 damage)
Sarge (116/123 hp, crushing despair)
Bold may act.
"S%$%," Freyja mumbles. I miss the forest.
She stops short, tells Trjega to attack, and looses her arrows.
Trjega sprints past Freyja but is just a bit too far away from the troop to get an attack off.
Grevayne flies directly at the troops, silently chastising himself for not remembering to memorize at least one area spell, then drops down and sweeps a leg kick at several grunts at once.
Sarge swallows more bile and rushes into the gates.
Things... do not go well for our heroes. Freyja manages to hit one of the hobs with her last arrow, but that's the only damage anyone does. Meanwhile, the troop -- which you can now tell is comprised of phalanx troops armed with spears and shields -- forms a shield wall around its perimeter through which spears jab and strike at Grevayne and Trjega . One of the spears catches Grevayne on the ankle and swipes backwards, and he tumbles to the ground. The troop attempts to trip Trjega as well, but her four-footed low center of gravity helps her resist, and she remains standing.
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Trjega (56/75 hp)
Grevayne (43/91 hp, shield, invisible, flying, prone)
Troop (13 damage, defensive stance)
Sarge (116/123 hp, crushing despair)
Bold may act.
Freyja grunts in frustration as the shield wall goes up; they're even covering the top so she can't drop arrows in from a high angle. She rushes forward to give herself a better chance of putting arrows between the shields, and she doesn't put nearly as much power behind the shots, favoring accuracy over damage.
Trjega tries to find an opening between the shields.
Grevayne spits out a curse in Tien. Fighting an entire troop is going to be the death of him, especially if they keep tripping him. He hops to his feet and pushes more of his arcane power down his remaining functioning limb before lashing out again.
Sarge hesitates for a moment, the sheer magnitude of the regiment before him giving him pause. He knows Molthuni military. He knows how potent even a basic phalanx can be, let alone one comprised of the tough bastards from Ironfang. What in the Hells are they doing?? They should run! Abandon the poor fools at Longshadow and just flee while they have the chance to get out alive.
Then again, what am I even living for? The question has haunted him for over two years now. Ever since the incident with the village on the border to Razmir, he's been questioning his purpose. What used to drive him, and what drives him now. How did it all go so wrong? Once upon a time, he left the ranks of these monsters because he refused to be a part of their barbarism. He wanted to live a better way. Now he's just as ruthless and cruel as they are, if you catch him on a bad day. What the Hells is he doing?
"Your job," he growls. "Do your verdrammt job, Sergeant."
Vergeltung held high, Sergeant Rainart Vargus charges into the lines of his enemy with a bellow.
Freyja's shot clangs off of one of the shields, as do all three of Trjega's attacks; this nut is going to be incredibly tough to crack. Grevayne and Sarge each miss terribly.
The shield wall remains in place, and spears jut in and out almost faster than the eye can see. Before they know it, Grevayne , Trjega , and Sarge all have new holes in them. Sarge is tripped up and hits the ground hard.
Freyja (97/105 hp)
Trjega (42/75 hp)
Grevayne (27/91 hp, shield, invisible, flying)
Troop (13 damage, defensive stance)
Sarge (101/123 hp, crushing despair, prone)
Bold may act.
Freyja suddenly remembers she really hates hobs and should be a lot more accurate against them.