Phon is caught in her own world, trying to puzzle together what Moon could be and how it could be linked to all of this. ... Samen mentioned something and he--- Though before she the stream of thought could become a rushing torrent, she was brought out of her head, probably for the better.
"Abnaki. I didn't expect to see you here so soon after being deployed. I feel like I won't have to introduce you to our new companions here, you know that I'm terrible with those sorts of things." She turns to Gabriel, "I am Phon Vos." She taps the helmet on the side of her plate, "Sorry it has been a trying and confusing few days."
It takes her a moment but she notices the veins on the ifrit. "Good thing about the inquisition indeed." Her demeanor quickly changes, "You must be careful being touched by such things..." Dropping her voice low she seems almost sad, "... I have seen what can happen and it is unpleasant at best and damning at worst." When she shakes her head, you can see holy symbols of elenkind shake at her neck.
"Abnaki, do you have any new tales to tell? I'll be frank, my sleeping has become more restless since I've stopped hearing them."
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It's hard to tell if Abnaki is just hopelessly oblivious, or has an excellent poker face, because he has no visible reaction to Gabriel's obvious relations with the dark. "Dark times indeed, with the captain's untimely passing. But we must press on, it's what he would have wanted."
He turns towards Wamblee, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, although I assume when you say that you've heard things about us from Iniga, you mean the Happy Swords, and not of me personally? I do not know what tales you may have heard about a mere spearman and story-teller like myself."
At the request for new stories, Abnaki's already cheerful face lights up even further! "Ah indeed! Tell me, have I told you the story of how Fret tricked the Cauldron Lady, at the beginning of things?" If not stopped, Abnaki launches into a comedic story.
"A scar grant by those in hiding" Gabriel states with a hint of quiet hatred in his voice, "But... i do not hate or fear these markings. Quite the contrary actually, those who fall into the dark are lost to it, but those who learn to... walk through the dark are stronger for it. I believe in our mantra "
Gabriel smiles for once, "Through the dark, not the dark. Though i do not fully understand it yet I will someday, and if i can do some good with it, then all the better. " As the story begins, Gabriel quiets to listen in curiously
Wamblee cracks a smile at Abnaki's jesting tale.
"Friends, all joking aside, I have a meeting tonight with my old boss, or jailer, you might say - an inquisitor, or ex-inquisitor I suppose..." He sees many faces around the table fall into suspicion, or worse. "She returned my codes correctly, but I can't tell for sure in this Moon-cursed world if anything is what it seems to be these days. What do you say, companions? Do we meet with her and see what information she has? I know not who to turn to in these mad days."
As you talk, various fliers and broadsheets are blowing in the spring wind, like paper doves flapping among the detritus of camp. Most of them advertise the Wargames and the various events - climbing, archery, pogona-riding, and the like. The talk about the lunchtime firepits is that Captain Fillipo will hand out bonuses in gold to anyone who wins events and makes the Happy Swords look good, and bonuses in silver if you recruit new able-bodied members to the company.
As Abnaki finishes his tale, he grabs a flier from the air and examines it. "Well my fine companions, I thank you for your hospitality! I really should dedicate myself to helping our new captain though, they'll need all the help they can get. Unfortunately, I think I would fare poorly against the warriors of Hearth alone, so unless any of you are in need of a stonesinger, I shall remain on the sidelines as a recruiter." He stops for a second, considering. "Phon can vouch for me though, what I lack in weapon training, I more than make up for in sheer terms of... well to be frank, inspiration."
"Walk with us then Abnaki - now that we've dropped off a prisoner and had something to eat, I'd like to make our way back inside the city gates for a few candles. You can do some recruiting and get on the new Captain's good side, and we get some inspiration on the way." He stands up, and offers a sylphan handshake to companions old and new.
Away from the Happy Swords camp, there is a sudden bend in the road. You are about halfway between camp and the city. The surrounding croplands are already showing strong spring growth, the wheat shushing in the wind to either side of you.
Phon Vos' keen senses detect the rumbling sound, just a moment before the strike. She does not have time to call out, but she readies her lucerne hammer...
You all hear the rumbling now - the distinct sound of oreads burrowing. Several oread warriors, male and female, come up from the path to surround you. They are dressed in simple leather armors.
Phon Vos takes a swing at the first oread she sees. She connects on her first attack, but misses on the rest. Surprisingly, all the warriors ignore these attacks, and go directly for Wamblee, the quiet monk who has said very little up until this point.
Four warriors reach him, and each attacks once:
Anyone with a decent spellcraft score notices that all of these warriors have some kind of enchantment upon their fists, making them harder than usual. They likely have armor enhancements upon their skin as well.
Wamblee of the Tribe of Peace is buffeted by blows from unfriendly oreads. He murmurs the word, "Assassins," under his breath, but says nothing more. He is bleeding from a broken lip.
Samen, slightly shocked at the sudden violence, takes the time to scan the battlefield.
Wamblee can handle a fist fight, but that mage could be trouble.
Samen taps his staff on the ground and once again dashes like lightning south, right past the guards in front of the caster.
Phon notices the enchantments on them and looks towards the one with the vines that is singled out. She moves to reach as many of the oreads defending the mage, hoping to strike them as they move, but intensely stares at the sorcerer.
"I think they have a spellcaster."
Phon Vos misses with her hammer, the weapon glancing off the warrior's magically enhanced stony skin.
Osna casts mirror image, a long-time habit of his when dealing with multiple foes.
Osna and his five off-center copies move toward group of warriors, flanking the northernmost.
The warriors that surround Wamblee unleash more attacks, yelling in battle fever:
Another three blows connect. Wamblee falls to his knees, reeling from the heavy fists.
Samen connects with two brutal strikes. The sneering oread shaman in vine-tendril armor takes a step toward the muddy area, chanting low in Sedime.
Mud flows onto the two nearby warriors, covering them head-to-toe in bulky mud muscles.
The two mudd warriors step toward Samen, and without a word begin enveloping him in their cloying embrace.
"Get off of me!" Samen rips free of their dirty grasp and moves toward the shaman.
"Clever, but needlessly indirect." He grips his staff firmly, ready to strike if he tries to flee again.
Abnaki draws the spear from his back, but instead of running forward to attack the assassins with it, he slams the butt of it into the ground, causing reverberations to go through the ground. He begins to chant, low and menacing, a story of traitors, and cowards.
Gabriel smoothly draws his dueling sword and closes with a nearby warrior:
He manages to skewer the same warrior that Phon Vos hit with her hammer in the surprise round - he falls to the ground (deleted from map)
Wamblee is still dazed, unable to stand. Groggily, he smears some mud on his wounds to activate his innate oread healing.
Gabriel will move and go two attack the next target
Phon Vos moves to bring both of the mud warriors and the spellcaster into range of her hammer. Judging the shaman to be the most dangerous of the group, she attacks.
The shaman chokes back a growl of pain from the attack. His vine armor is open and bleeding green ichor in several spots.
Phon Vos hammers the spellcaster, and also harries the mud warriors.
Osna eliminates another warrior with some quick bladework (deleted)
Samen bulls his way through the mud warriors and out of the grapple.
Gabriel misses - a critical misstep in the heat of battle, but he quickly recovers his balance.
(I will post for enemies soon)
Abnaki utilizes his unique physiology to channel an illusion spell through the reverberations in his words, generating a glitterdust spell at the purple square
The shaman takes a five foot step to the south west, away from both Samen and Phon Vos. He takes a glass bottle from his pack and uncorks it, releasing a smell like swampwater and ripe fertilizer.
He drinks the foul concoction down, and you watch his wounds rapidly close.
The two mud warriors both take a cautious step toward the shaman as if commanded to do so, though you heard no orders spoken. The eastern mud warrior attacks Samen once:
Abnaki casts his strange spell through the surrounding stone,
But none of the attackers are blinded!
Wamblee crouches defensively as he slowly regains a sparse amount of health.
The last two warriors try to break through his defenses, shouting in Oread, "Blasphemer! You are no chief!"
Samen sees Wamblee go down out of the corner of his eye and realizes two things. The last of his family was about to die. And he left his side and there's now nothing he can do about it.
Once, long ago now, though not so long, Samen brutalized a smug aristocrat as a distraction. He hopes for a similar miracle today.
He channels as much icy hateful rage into his staff as he can muster and unloads on the mage.
Not seeing the fight happening behind her, Phon channels her fervor into asking for a gift from the gods.
She tries to drive the hammer down upon the spellcaster one final time.
In a display of beatiful destruction, Samen's cold magic is magnified by Phon Vos; perhaps it is River that answers the warpriests prayers this afternoon. In a flurry of ice and metal, the spellcaster's head is crushed in by blows of hammer and staff. (deleted)
As if in response to this, the muddy-sinkhole area rears up like a great brown hound, and spills onto Phon Vos.
The two remaining oreads turn their attention from Wamblee, as Wamblee's skin has become gray and granite-like, no longer responding to their blows. They only now seem to realize they are in real danger of losing their lives and failing their mission.
Samen, you hear both mud warriors muttering the word 'magician' like a curse word, referring to you. They attempt to pummel you in a frenzy,
Osna tries to take down the northern warrior:
and Osna manages to put the oread down with a sharp stab to the back with his gladius. (deleted)
Gabriel moves quickly with his dueling sword, and Abnaki's bardic abilities make him quicker than ever:
(confirm)
and the duelling sword pierces the hapless warrior's heart, killing him instantly.
(deleted!!)
i got on set of tricks for now and that's dueling sword.