[PF 2e]Age of Ashes Adventure Path

Game Master Simmyish

The castle atop Hellknight Hill, Citadel Altaerein, has stood abandoned for years in eastern Isger—a legacy left behind by the Hellknight Order of the Nail that’s largely ignored these days by the populace of the nearby town of Breachill. But when strange signal fires begin to burn atop the citadel’s battlements, a local goblin and friend of Breachill’s citizens begins to worry, for her tribe, the Bumblebrashers, live within the castle. She fears the fires are distress signals, and hopes to attend Breachill’s monthly Call for Heroes to ask for help from a band of local adventurers. As fate would have it, this call for aid comes to your group of heroes, and as a mysterious doom draws near, who could have predicted that such an act of local heroism would eventually lead to the unmasking of one of the most insidious and dangerous conspiracies of the Age of Lost Omens?

Welcome to the Pathfinder 2nd Edition Adventure Path Age of Ashes. Looking for a group of 4-5 players, and will have applications open until 11:59pm GMT on 20th February 2020. See the recruitment forum for more details.

Part 1: Hellknight Hill
Chapter 1: The Council's Chosen

Located at the foothills of the Five King Mountains in eastern Isger, Breachill is a thriving town of about 1,300 inhabitants; most are humans, although there are quite a few dwarves, half-elves and gnomes that wonder the city streets. The town itself was built long before it's most notable landmark, about 1 mile to the northeast of the town, rising high on a low-rising hill, an old fortresss. The locals call the hill Hellknight Hill, and the fortress located there is known as Citedal Altaeriein. The citedal was once home to the Hellknight Order of the Nail.

In years past, Breachill served as a supply sourced for the Hellknights. As a result, the town enjoyed well ordered peace thanks to the regular visit from the Hellknights from the citedal. However, eight years ago, the Order of the Nail retreated from the citedal in favor of somewhere new in Varisia, as their work continued to pull them further in that direction. The inhabitants didn't pay it too much mind, and continued on no differently. Agriculture, crafting and bartering that had always sustained them in the past continued. Nowadays, common wisdom recommends avoiding the place as it's become home to peaceful isolated groups who want to be left alone, but also there are tales of dangerous monsters that also lurk within.

Breachill has a long and proud history of hiring adventurers when the town needs something completing that would be outside of the duties of the town guard. The merchant whose ship's of goods are late, and his still waiting. The shephard whose herd of goats died a mysterious death overnight. The farmer with an entire ruined harvest for the season for unknown reasons, or stolen from them. These sorts of things adventurers have proven themselves rather talented at solving in the past, so the town council uses some of its resources to recruit adventurers. These montly gatherings, known as the Call for Heroes, are distinctively different from the council's more regular meetings, so that the beurocracy can be dealt with, but at the same time showing that time has been put aside specifically for what the local townsfolk find most important and pressing.

As far as the leadership is concerned, using public money to hire adventures has multiple purposes. Firstly, it can be a last call-for-help when there are no other options. Second, it allows the town guard to focus on their duties and the more mundane threats and crimes within the town. And thirdly, it is good for new adventurers who are looking for experience, and also allows the council to vet incoming adventurers from out of town before they hire them. They have a rather optimistic view of adventurers from out of town, thanks to their local town hero - Lamond Breachton, the original patron from outside the town that saved the town's founders. As a result, the presence of the adventurer is always seen as a boon by the town council.

And that is why you have all gathered here this morning. At midday today, the Call for Heroes is scheduled to be held, and each of you are looking for work as an adventurer. The reasons you are here and your motives are your own, but this is where those of you from out of town have been told would be a good place to start in your adventuring career, to those of you that are locals who are looking to make a name for yourself, or to see beyond your town's walls. This is the best opportunity to do so.

These monthly meetings have one purpose. To hear petitions from the townspeople who need the aid of an adventurer. After they address the council with the issue, the council vote weather public funds should be expended on the task. For the one or two petitions that are approved each month, the council opens the floor to those seeking work and think it a task they can handle. Some adventurers come here with lists of qualifications and experience, and then the council hires an appropriate number of candidates who seem well suited for the jobs at hand. Once the meeting is concluded, regular communication between the original petitioner and the council is expected. Once the task is complete, they are paid, usually in gold and are considered with preferential treatment for other official work that could use their skills.

As a result of this meeting being held for decades, local traditions have naturally been built up around the monthly event. A nearby tavern known as the Wizard's Grace is having it's busiest day of the month. This has become those looking to be hired for a task to gather, drink and lobby for work with those who are petitioning the council. The morning is young and you all wake up from your rooms in Wizard's Grace well rested ready to meet with the townsfolk. For breakfast, the tavern is surprisingly quiet of guests considering the time of the month. However, there are a few still mingling with the locals.

Those few are you guys, so here would be a good point to introduce your characters in character

Two young dwarves are sitting at a table in the far corner of the tavern's ground floor. They are playing a newer version of an old dwarven game involving stone runes with symbols carved into them. They seem to be distracted by their game, though a keen observer might notice the burlier of the two is keeping a close eye out at the other patrons stepping into the tavern.

"Seems to me we've got a lot of new faces this year. You think Rorsk and Angrim would let me go with the inexperienced, do you Ufretin?"
The burly dwarf with ashen-gray hair and slightly unkempt beard, asked the other one.

"With your last outburst? I'd reckon Rorsk would almost pay to see you leave for a while. As to your father Angrim, who knows what he thinks Hothfarr. Maybe he is of the same mind as Rorsk, wanting to give you time to cool off a bit." The smaller, but still rugged-looking redhaired and redbearded dwarf said.

"Perhaps you are right my friend. The frustration gets me too often. Luckily I do not have that in games of chance. By Torag your luck is good tonight."

The other dwarf smiled and the two dwarves could be heard laughing and jostling about the game throughout the tavern.

All his life, Red had watched the influx of would-be heroes to Breachill. They all looked like fools to him. "Who's the fool now?". Foolish or not the Call to Heroes was the best avenue to get the answers he needed. It was all connected, Dahak the Dragon deity, the Hellknight fortress, Lamond Breachton and the town itself. But at the end of the day, adventuring was often a one-way journey to Pharasma's hall of the dead. If this truly was to be the fool's errand dead-end then he may as well have the best breakfast he could afford. A hearty porridge enriched with dried fruits and sheep's milk with a drizzle of honey and real bread (not the chalky adulterated kind!).

Nosteo eats his breakfast alone. He eyes the other people in Wizard's Grace trying to look tough. That's what an adventurer would do right?

Nosteo came to Breachill hoping to explore Citadel Altaerein but realized that he had little experience in exploring ruins and fighting monsters, which the keep supposedly contains. And if Nosteo is honest he actually has no experience at such things. How fortunate then that he arrived just in time for this 'Call for Heroes'. He can get some practice on a smaller job maybe.

The Call seems to be for groups of adventurers though, Nosteo thinks to himself. He goes back to eyeing the people around him, this time wondering who he might want to work with.

Cathirix stands near the bar finishing a bowl of porridge, holding the bowl vertically over his face and scraped the last bits into mouth. This drew a curious glance from a server, "waste not, want not," he says with a shrug. Looking around the tavern he notices a Chelish man eating alone eyeing everyone in the bar. Cathirix places his bowl on the counter and heads over to the table where Nosteo sits, his chainmail clinking as he walked, "Can I have a seat? I saw you looking around and figure you are here for the Call for Heroes also, right?"

"But of course," Nosteo gestures at a chair, "to both of your questions."

Nosteo takes stock of the man joining him, "I am Nosteo Faustus. I take it that you are like me? New in town with no comrades for the Call for Heroes."

The server gives a curious look towards Cathirix and once the bowl is put back down, she quickly takes it off the counter like a reflex. Those looking around see the other figures in the room, only the five of you seem to be around to answer the call for heroes, and a crowd is beginning to gather across the street, outside the town hall, small at the moment, but one or two more begin to gather every 10-15 minutes outside.

The meeting itself isn't scheduled until noon, in a few hours, and one of the locals in Wizard's grace, stands up. The barkeep smiles and doesn't do anything to stop him as he taps his glass.

"To our potential heroes, we wish you success in the call and beyond. It is a known tradition of breachill for the locals to provide those seeking to be called with a good luck drink, it may be early. But it's the Call for Heroes today, and who knows," he pauses, his face going into a smile. "It might be your last one," as he tilts his own glass, the locals bursting into laughter as he sits back down. "Barkeep, get whatever our heroes want, drinks are on me this morning," he says as he takes a sip from his own glass. The tavern then returns back to normal business, as conversations continue.

Just before the toast on the Call for Heroes
The sound of stone playing runes hitting the table echoes across the bar as the two dwarves finish off their game.
"Like I said Ufretin. You have your day. You managed to steal the glory away by defeating our adversary. That's 71 points total, a new record for us."

The dwarves shove their runes and a few sheets of paper into a small sack and then the call comes out along the tavern.

Hothfarr stands up on the chair next to the table.
"Aye! A bit o' luck is always good! Especially coming from you Donovan! Barkeep! Your strongest pint if you please!"

With that said, Hotfarr claps Ufretin on the back as the two friends say goodbye.

Hothfarr walks towards the bar and collect his drink, he eyes the two foreigners sitting at a table, takes a large gulp and then his eyes wander off in search of other candidates of the Call for Heroes. His eyes eventually fall on Redsevic and walks up to him.

"Redsevic right? I've seen you here before. Aren't you a singer or musician or whatnot? Hothfarr Stonehand, son of Angrim Stonehand and Kartha Axebane, at your service. I'm a stonemason at Tuskhead's."

Hothfarr holds out a gruff and calloused hand, that has definitely seen many hours of hard work.

Hothfarr's appearance, but more gray-ish blonde hair.

Red was deep in thought when the dwarf approached him
"Hmmm...? Oh, nice to meet you. I've seen you around as well,"
he said shaking Hothfarr's hand.

He looked out at all the hopefully would-be heroes drinking, eating and talking. What bonds were being forged here? Everything felt so very ephemeral that Red was moved to express the sweet hopeless intensity of it all

"As a matter of fact I sing and play," he said the Hothfarr. "What do you think? Should I perform a little something? Maybe it will inspire us towards courage,".

Oops, thought I got a post off yesterday, maybe the forums ate it. :/
A tall half-orc sits and eats in a corner, with a clear view of the door. He wears a shortsword at his side, and a shortbow across his back, and is dressed in well-maintained leather armor that almost looks like it could be a uniform.
Aerel smiles at the toast, which reminds him that he should try to get to know some of his prospective teammates. Noticing two strangers who seem to be talking about it, he walks to Nosteo and Cathirix's table, smiles while trying to minimize his tusks, and introduces himself. "You're here for the Call for Heroes as well? Name's Aerel. I'm skilled at scouting, sneaking, and getting into places I shouldn't."
Aerel grimaces inwardly. Never thought I'd be introducing myself that way. I sound like a criminal...

I didn't describe Nosteo before, I wanted to make sure whether he's in armor or not. So I'll do it now.

Nosteo rises to greet Aerel. A he introduces himself his two new friends can see that Nosteo has long black bair and pale skin. He's wearing old, but well taken care of, clothing and a somewhat new backpack. On his hip is a very old longsword.

"Why yes we are. Looks like a group is mustering for a job at this very table." He scans the dining area for a moment, "It appears as though it may be only we three and those two still remaining," he says, indicating the human and dwarf at another table. "Perhaps we should ask if they need a crew as well. But first... Nosteo makes towards the server to order drinks for the table.

Red gets up and positions his instrument a small hurdy-gurdy on his lap. A rich, textured droning sound emerges alongside a sweet lilting harmony. Red begins to sing in a clear strong tenor. The melody is at first unfamiliar until you notice that it's a reinterpretation of a song about Lamont Breachton the founder of this town.

Red hasn't changed any of the lyrics but his performance suggests a deep foreboding subtext. Every word seems to mean something ealse but what , you cannot say.

performance: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

As Red begins playing, the band that was providing music in the tavern stops for a moment and listens. It isn't long until they are following Red's lead and making it so that the music doesn't counteract with each other.

The group playing today are not familiar to Red, but all the locals had heard of him. A few more people on the way to the Town Hall passing by Wizard's Grace, from their homes or businesses heard the music and recognized the voice, so a crowd begins to gather in Wizard's Grace and those across the road at the town hall look in the direction of where everybody is headed.

It is known that Wizard's Grace is the hangout for everyone before the call to heroes, and they still had a couple of hours, so all but one figure joins. That figure continues to stand outside the town hall. The figure is about three feet tall, wearing white robes and a mortarboard. Two green pointed ears betray the shape of a goblin, nervously pacing back and forth outside the entrance.

As the performance comes to an end, and noon gets ever closer, there now are about 40 townspeople that have gathered outside waiting for the town hall to open thier doors chatting with each other. The statue of Lamont Breachton raising up above the town hall where the fountain circle surrounds it.

The crowd includes all ranges of people including children who look around to see if there are any new adventurers with excitement. A lot of townsfolk like to attend the call for heroes meetings as it's a good way to hear what is going on with their neighbours, but also to see who is brave enough to step up when the time comes.

The goblin still paces nervously outside with her hands clasped behind her back and mumbling to herself, seemingly not paying attention to anyone around her.

Nosteo applauds for Redsevic from the bar. He gathers up the drinks he ordered and walks over to the bard.

"That was a fine song, a fine song indeed. If you and your dwarf friend are looking for a crew for the Call for Heroes you should go talk to the folks at that table," he points to Aeral and Cathirix.

Then he walks over to said table and drops off his load, "I will be right back."

Nosteo walks outside and approaches the goblin pacing outside. He kneels down with a concerned look in his eyes. "Is something the matter ma'am?"

Hothfarr listens patiently and with awe as Redsevic plays his tune and nod appreciatively as the other musicians join in.

As Redsevic finishes the song, Hothfarr keeps nodding.
"Aye, a good song, a very good song. A bit dramatic perhaps. But a good song nonetheless. You don't know any dwarven battle hymns by any chance?"

Hothfarr couldn't finish his sentence as to why the battle hymns were necessary as Nosteo approaches the two locals with an offer to join him and the two other out-of-towners at their table.

The ashen-blonde dwarf looks towards Redsevic with a wry smile.
"I already wondered when they would start introducin' themselves. Better see what kind of stone we have in the quarry, eh?"

Hothfarr makes his way over to the table with Aeral en Cathirix, newly-filled mug of ale in his meaty hand.
He chugs down half the mug of ale in font of the two and then slams the mug down on the table. Splashes of ale spattering across the table.
He pulls up a chair and sits down, one arm laid down on the table.

"So...I hear ye'r lookin' for some teammates for the Call for Heroes. My friend Redsevic and I are locals here, people around here know of us, what we're capable of. For beter or for worse. Who might you fine people be?"

Aerel turns to Hothfarr and nods. "I'm Aerel. I come from Korvosa, where I used to be on the city guard. I'm good at scouting ahead without getting seen, and getting around or through obstacles. I can also handle myself in a fight, if it comes to that."

As you get closer, about fifteen feet away from the goblin, you can hear that she is muttering to herself.

"My Bumblebrashers, Why haven't I heard from my Bumblebrashers? Are my people trapped in the citadel?"

As you approach she looks up as you ask her if everything is OK, she clears her throat and says "My tribe, they've been living in peace at Citadel Altaerein for many years now, you know - the old Hellknight Keep on the hill just outside of the town. Typically, every two weeks, I meet with the Tribe's chieften, Helba, on the road outside the keep. We usually discuss the local news, and I pass on the town's interests and if Helba has any concerns, she communicates them with me so I can bring them before the town council. It is a relationship that holds utmost importance, and Helba has almost always been punctual. However, the last two meetings she never arrived, and I've been seeing plumes of smoke coming up from the citadel, a chalky red colored smoke - the tribe uses that color when it's in distress, traditionally. I fear my Bumblebrashers are in danger, or that something terrible has befallen them. I'm worried sick for them," she explains as you come up to her.

An opportunity presents itself... Nosteo stomps that thought down, hard.

"I see. Have you thought about asking for help during the Call for Heroes? Sounds like something some adventurers could help with." Nosteo holds on to Iomedae's Sword hanging from his neck. "I must be honest with you. I came to Breachill hoping for a chance to visit Citadel Altaerein. But, I am no monster. I do care about your friends' plight and there may be a group inside here mustering for the Call. Come inside, maybe we can help you out."

Nosteo walks back inside, hopefully with the goblin in tow. He hears Aerel describing what he offers to the group. "Ah so an adventuring party is forming. Let me describe what I have to offer, maybe you'll allow me to join as well. I have a secret I will tell you now, I've found that trying to hide it makes people not trust me." He holds out a hand and flames dance among his fingers for a second. "I have the blood of devils inside me. It gives me some magical talents but of course I don't like where it comes from just as much as anyone. Do not worry though, to combat my darker tendencies I follow the teaching of Iomedae and strive to be as honorable a man as I can. I have even done a small amount of training with some of The Inheritor's paladins. Which comes handy in a fight I might add.

"Also, if we do answer the Call for Heroes together, this goblin has a problem that I would like to help with."

Aerel nods to Nosteo. "I'd certainly be glad to have you with us. Magic can be very advantageous to have. So, what's this problem?"

Taking a mental note of everyone's stated capabilities, Red pretended to focus on tuning his hurdy-gurdy. He smiled briefly at Nosteo while glancing quickly at the Goblin trailing him.

Cathirix introduces himself to his potential companions. He keeps a watchful eye on Nosteo as the conversation went on around him. When Nostreo returns "So it appears we are all in agreement about joining up together. If so do we need to wait for the Call for heroes to help the goblin?"

"That's why I am here, there is a process for a reason. Please, listen to my petition during the call for heroes, and if you adventurers like it seems you are advertising yourselves to be, the council will hire you. If you are up to the task, I beg you to offer your services to the council. You might be my tribe's only hope," the goblin responds.

It is at that point when the clocks strikes noon, and the doors to the town hall open, people beginning to make their way inside.

"Well, it's settled then. You'll petition for heroes and we'll come help. And there's the bell." Nosteo looks to Redsevic and Hothfarr, "If you two don't mind leading the way, I don't know how this works."

Hothfarr looks up from his mug of ale to look at the goblin, then back at the others.

"I think Redsevic and I have seen our fair share of Calls. To me it has always seemed like an auction of sorts, groups of adventurers try to win a quest for glory and earnings. Perhaps it is more akin to a specified message board with job offerings, adventurers pick the quest or job that's most suited for them."

With that said, Hothfarr shoves his seat back from the table and stands up.
"Well let's get out to the town hall then, we'll help this goblin's tribe. We've already committed to it as much, though it seems like a good as start as any to get ones mind off of things. What's your name uhm... miss?"

Hothfarr asks the goblin present as he starts to head towards the opened door sof the town hall.

Aerel follows Redsevic and Hothfarr through the door into the town hall.

"Well, if observances must be made than so be it. Let's get to it," Cathirix stands, picks up his pack and greatsword, and heads for the door.

Nosteo follows the locals into the town hall.

"I am Warbal, ambassador to the Bumblebrasher goblins of Hellknight Hill. It is my great honor to serve my fellow citezens of Breachill as the town's official representative to the Bumblebrashers. I communicate with the Bumblebrashers, coney the town's concerns and interests to them, and advocate on the tribe's behalf. It is a duty I take very seriously - they are my people, after all. It's why I've come today, and my rather distracted nature when you saw me. Do forgive me," Warbel says as she also enters into the town hall.

The Guards at the town hall direct you all to the council chamber, just past the main hallway in the Town Hall. As the crowd mills its way inside, children who had gathered to see the new heroes run off to play in the nearby Fountain Circle behind the town hall while they wait for the meeting to end. As the last of you make your way inside, the guards that were taking position outside the town hall post themselves to either side of the southern door of the council chamber.

The room is set up rather like an auditorium, with a carpeted walkway going down the middle of the room seperating several rows of benches into two seperate sections. At the north end of the room is a raised dais, with five seats and a bronze plaque in front of each chair. Sitting in the far western chair, middle chair and the second chair of the East are humans, with the name plates reading Quentino Posandi, Greta Gardania, and Melma Ann Sendari. In between Quentino and Greta is a gnome with the nameplate reading Trini Sprizzlegig, and in the final chair is a dwarf with the nameplate Jorsk Hinterclaw on the far East.

The crowd begins to gather in and take their seats.

So, for the sake of this, let me know roughly where you would be sitting, here is a map you can use for reference.

I vote the right side at the front, or near the front if it's full.

Hothfarr will take a seat on the right benches, fourth row, all the way at the left side so he has easy access to the aisle down the middle.

Aerel sits along with the others in the group.

Red sits with the group. He has decided he likes these people.

As everyone takes a seat, there is a murmor in the room as the councillers give everybody a few moments to get settled in.

The murmer is cut off with a short rap of a gavel on the desk as the dark-haired, stern woman that sits in the middle, Greta Gardania, with a deeply furrowed forehead and kind eyes as the croud mumbles come to a hush as she stands up.

"Welcome, neighbours and friends..." the dark-haired woman begins, her rich voice washing over the room, "... to the Breachill Town Council's monthly Call for Heroes. I am Council President Greta Gardania, at your service. On behalf of my colleagues beside me, I promise you all that we will hear and consider today's petition with the utmost discretion and care. There is no existence without community, as our town charter has said since Lemond Breachton saved Breachill all those years ago.

"Today, our agenda includes one petition. Miss Warbal, our very own ambassador to the Bumblebrashers of Hellknight Hill, request the help of heroes for a matter of utmost importance. Let's hear her concerns in her own words, shall we? Miss Warbal?"

As she is summoned, the well dressed goblin the group spoke to outside steps forward to the foot of the dais's steps. She clears her throat before presenting her petition.

"Esteemed Councilors," Warbal begins, with a frazzled tone to her voice. "It has been more than a month since I've been able to contact the Bumblebrashers. I fear something terrible has befallen them. What's more, I have seen my people's distress signal coming from the top of Citedal Altearein..."

Before the goblin can continue her tale, the Western door flies open, slamming against the wall as it does so. A yong man, with wide, paniced eyes, runs in shouting and waving his ink-stained hands, following behind him is Billowing black smoke and flames as the fire spreads in the room. "Fire! There's a fire! Everyone flee!"

"Do not panic!" Greta Shouts, but it's not heard over the screams as everybody starts running towards the exit.

OK, time to roll Perception checks for initiative. As we are now entering Encounter mode, I'll still be updating everything every day. In the old days, Initiative was it's own modifier, but now because it can be different skills, I'll let you guys roll. The fire fills a 10-foot square area just by the western door and is spreading.

Town Hall Fire Hazard Initiative: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Following the fire into the room, with a cackle, is a fire mephit that flies into the room and snickers, just as Quentino manages to get out of the way, helping up some of the group that have tripped over the bench as the mephit breaths fire over where he was sitting, setting the desk and the surrounding area on fire.

Initiative order is in the discussion, here is the map. I don't have a picture anywhere for Hothfarr yet so his the faceless guy for now - but I've included name tags so you know who represents who.

Do you mind if I may a suggestion on initiative?

Nosteo leaps out of his seat. "I assume this isn't part of the festivities?" he says as he moves towards the danger.

1 action to get up I assume. 2 Stride actions straight left.

If you find that helpful, after the initial post I usually put an OOC comment of who's next from the second post on, but if you'd prefer it that way, I can do that too :)

Nosteo stands up out of his seat and starts making his way toward both the fire and the mephit.

Just waiting on Hothgarr's move as well before something is going to change on the other side

Alas, I still can't change my profile picture, so for now the anonymous man has got to do.

Hothfarr gets out of his seat and moves towards the Fire Mephit that started the fire inside the town hall. Hothfarr ends his movement to the right of Quentino Posandi.

Getting to the fight is most important, but I'm not so fast, so a triple move is needed.

Hothgarr is the next to get up, as the fire begins to spread.

As the fire spreads, the townsfolk jump out and begin stampeding toward the door. Some of the benches get knocked over in the hurry, and some of the townsfolk end up falling over themselves. Others are frozen in fear.

Some manage to get out, and the counsellors start working to help those to get out. There are still a number of spectators who are in dangaer however, and they may not be able to rescue them all without help.

From this point on, the benches have become difficult terrain. The counsellors will be able to help one townsfolk each per round.

And Here is the updated map.

Seeing others rise from their seats to confront the fiery attacker, Aerel focuses his efforts on getting the frightened civilians away from danger, which means out of the burning building.
Will spend all my actions trying to get civilians out of danger if possible, not exactly sure what actions that entails.

I'm also going to help get people out of the burning building

Triple move towards the Mephit

The flames danced in Cathirix's eyes as he rushed forward with his great sword bared. He was unconcerned with those attempting to flee, the fire spirit could wreak havoc on the town if not checked immediately.

Based on the difficult terrain, I've moved people as requested. You can use all three of your actions to rescue two people in one round. This is in addition to those the counsellors save

Aereal goes over to one of the fallen figures and assists getting the first two out. Seeing that, Resevic joins in helping people get out of the building. Cathirix gets up out of his seat also and makes his way toward the fire mephit

As standing is one move action, the first action was to stand, then the other two actinos could be used to move (at half speed through the benches).

The mephit flies over the desk toward the other side of the room as it continues snickering. It looks like it's main plan is to set as much of the building alight as possible.

The counselors also begin to assist some of the civilians out of the southern door.

Having trouble with the map on flickr, but have found another site for now. Here is the updated map.

Hothfarr moves over towards the fire mephit, closing in towards the south-west of it and then clobbers it on the head with his warhammer.

"Begone you pesky lit'l fire bugger!"

Attack Warhammer: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 151d8 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11