Gritting her teeth in frustration, Hannelia watches the party's various projectiles fall short of the goblin on the other side of the river. Not only that, but with the returned fire catching Emma and Roger sorely pressed against the other goblin, her assessment of the situation wasn't hugely positive. And obviously now the sheep are spooked, she thinks, watching the unsurprisingly scared livestock panic at the fighting and adding to the rising sense of chaos.
Mind working quickly through her spell options and other gear in case there was some trick she could pull to help turn the tide their way, she draws a blank. She takes a deep breath to steady herself against the rising concern for her wounded companions, not to mention Scrent. Best just end this then. Drawing a bead on her target, Hannelia pulls back the bowstring in a practiced motion before sending another arrow flashing across the river.
Constantine nimbly dodges out of the way of the terrified sheep, making sure that Scrent is staying with him as he tries to extricate him from the dangerous situation. The Escoros will be able to wrangle the sheep later. They have more pressing matters now.
The goblins, however, are even nimbler, dodging out of the way of all of the attacks...save perhaps from that latest arrow from Hannelia which looks like it's about to hit its mark. But poor Roger--Roger looks like he is swaying on his feet.
"Run home," Constantine says to Scrent. "First towards Ms. Venator, and then on to your ma and pa."
Constantine chuckles as one goblin responds with an amusing insult, and he trades another jab as Hannelia's arrow goes flying.
But Constantine is focused elsewhere. He swings his sword around and rushes to Roger's side, charging at the Goblin in the sheepskin and hoping to bring him down.
Hannelia's arrow skewers a second goblin! She's making a good showing of herself. The one across the stream falls, gurgling.
Constantine hurries into position to strike, swinging powerfully... but the goblin dodges by a hair, giggling madly.
"WAIT - WHICH ONE OF YOU IS MISS VENATOR?!" Scrent hollers, windmilling his arms.
Emma groans in frustration as her javelin misses it's mark, though she's happy to note that Hannelia's arrow manages to finish the job - Emma really hadn't wanted to try to get across the river, lest she end up slipping and falling.
Of course, as though fate itself is taunting her, the sheep begin to panic and rush from the scene, and in the process, several of the sheep jostle past her and knock her to the ground anyway. She lands with a metallic thump and winces, glaring at the retreating sheep. Stupid fluffy grazers, Emma thinks to herself. At my next opportunity, I'm having mutton for dinner!
Grumbling to herself, Emma picks herself up from the ground and reorients herself to the battlefield. Only one goblin remains.
"The woman with the bow!" Constantine shouts back as the goblin dodges and giggles. "Roger! Strike, ye sea dog."
"Damn, this one's going in the tall tales to tell.. Who'd believe a tale of goblin-sheep nearly felling the heroes what stopped the demon bugs?" Roger sputters out, stumbling his way around the sheep, before attempting to strike another blow.
Roger stumbles, slurs, and ultimately.... falls to the ground, but as he does, his large blade also strikes the triumphantly sneering goblin, who only has time to look surprised before it, too, is born to the dirt, the two FALLING TOGETHER IN DEAAAAAAATH.
Okay, only death for one of them.
Constantine watches Roger fall down with that final blow, bleeding and exhausted. "Roger needs help if anyone can offer it! Mayhaps one of those scrolls?"
Sirio gives Hannelia a quick nod as he spots the arrow sprouting from the goblin's flesh. He turns toward the rest of the group as it collapses.
He gets bowled over by the stampeding sheep herd. He curses as he dusts himself off and gets off the ground. He calls to Roger, "Are you hurt Roger?" and opens up a scroll of healing to help the older man.
Roger cannot immediately answer, given he's on the ground, bleeding. But that might be answer enough.
Scrent doesn't need to be told twice. He looks down at Roger, turning slightly green, and then blitzes towards the farmhouse as fast as his feel will carry him-- his father seems halfway out to you all, but when Scrent closes with him, the two of them hurry for the house itself. The last of the sheep bolt after Scrent, trailing him towards the possible safety of the barn.
Cut their eyes out, make them cry!
Cut them! Chop them! Slice them up!
Feed them to our goblin pups!”
Waiting for someone to arrive to help with Roger and feeling sorely incapable of doing anything about it himself, Constantine's eyes widen as he picks up on the goblin song.
"The goblins aren't done with us yet, and they're bringing their dogs!" he announces. He leaves Roger to someone else and advances to the south. As he goes, weighty frustration rises within him and he imagines his blade doing even more deadly damage. He bellows out an invitation to the approaching danger.
Watching Scrent tear off and remove himself from what had turned from sheep- to battlefield, Hannelia lets out a sigh as she relaxes the grip on her bow. And the woolly creatures’ exit after the boy was no bad thing either given the disruption they had caused in their panic. Relief at Scrent’s exit, however, is quickly balanced against concern for Roger and his lack of response to Sirio. Turning, Hannelia sees the pirate laid out on the ground next to the goblin he took down. ”Are you ok to revive him?” she asks of the Asmodean, a note of worry in her voice ”Or shall I tip a potion down his throat?” Preparing for either eventuality she unclips a side pocket of her pack in order to retrieve the magical potable.
As she does this, a third thing vies for her attention as Constantine’s shout goes up that there are more goblins in the vicinity. Though she cannot understand the words, she too picks up on the sing-song quality of the speech and prepares herself for action once more. ”Sirio?” she asks again, more urgently this time, needing to know if her next task will be as healer or markswoman.
Sirio sees the goblins rushing through the treeline, then turns to Hannelia in alarm. He begins running, but calls back, "Get him up! Feed him the potion. The goblins are coming!
At Constantine's shout, Emma turns and hefts her shield up - with the goblin near Roger dispatched, there isn't much else she can personally do for him - but at the proclamation that more goblins are inbound, she readies herself for another round against the hateful little creatures.
She marches southward carefully, stepping towards, but not quite all the way to, the tree line, and nods towards Constantine, her sword and shield at the ready. "I don't speak goblin, but I'm guessing that wasn't a friendly greeting. I'm with you. Let's try not to let any of them get past us."
”On it,” Hannelia calls, acknowledging Sirio’s instruction. Instead of a potion she withdraws a scroll from her case and moves swiftly over to Roger. Looking at the vicious cuts the goblin inflicted on him, she bites her lip. Even to the untrained eye it’s obvious things are not good, though she privately admonishes herself for another topic she doesn’t know enough about.
Roger continues bleeding.
What sound does a pirate make as he bleeds out....? Well, none, apparently. But don't worrry, Roger, Hannelia will have you ship-shape in no time.
Meanwhile, to the south....
Two so-called 'goblin dogs' burst from the undergrowth, nimbly vaulting the splitrail fence as they carry their laughing, shrieking riders forward into combat. The goblin dog, in truth, has nothing canine about it, and more closely is related to the rat, as evidenced by their long, naked, whipping tails and elongated snouts. The mangy beasts are rail thin but their bodies covered with hard sinew, and they are strong enough to bear their goblin riders, at least.
"Hai!" scream the two goblins, closing with Constantine and Emma both.
The shrilling riders seem less than actually coordinated, and the blows from their rusting blades are easily parried by Constantine and Emma alike. However, as Emma raises her sword to bash away the jagged knife that swings her way, the mange-ridden 'dog' snaps under her guard and savages her exposed forearm. She brings her shield hurriedly into play, bashing the dog back before it can worry the wound open and make it even worse. It's bad enough as it is.
"Damn!" Emma hisses at the dog's bite. She can feel her skin itching like crazy, and that a rash is breaking out around the edge of the bite.
Reaching out for the comforting presence of Iomedae's grace, she smites the oversized rodent that the goblin is riding.
Glowering at the rider and beast alike, she readies her sword to attack it. "That's enough of that," she mutters to it, before striking out.
Itching notwithstanding, Emma focuses a moment on the 'dog' which is certainly an annoyance-- but is it evilllll? It turns out that yes, it is.
Her sword flares with a sudden glow when it impacts the beast, and the dog yowls as if burned-- before it goes silent forever, skidding in the dirt beneath a suddenly-less-confident-looking goblin.
Constantine grits his teeth and looks with fury at the goblin rider approaching him. He twists and blocks teeth and blade, looking for a good place to strike. Seeing Emma strike at the mount instead of the rider, Constantine follows suit.
"Are you okay, Lady Blackford?" he asks after he finishes his slashing maneuver, glaring menacingly at the goblin.
Hannelia glances up to see Constantine trading blows with another goblin and the ugly mount it sits astride. From the other side of the tree she can hear Emma do the same. ”Nothing like a bit of pressure to sharpen the mind,” she mutters, unfurling the scroll. In a clear voice she intones the magical words to the healing spell. As she completes the casting, the neatly inked script vanishes from the parchment and the deep wound in Roger’s gut knits together. In response the pirate lets out a hoarse wheezing breath and Hannelia releases the one she was holding from casting the spell.
”You took a nasty gash there,” she says to him, offering her arm. ”Can you stand? There’s more goblins in need of putting down if you can.”
Seeing Roger's wounds heal, but clearly worse for wear, Sirio approaches with his scroll in hand. He murmurs some nonsense in a forgotten tongue and activates his scroll, further healing the elder man.
"You're stronger than the two of us Roger. Doctrine and tactics demand that we support you as best we can." the Asmodean says as he lays hands on Roger.
"Well, way hey and up he rises..." Roger gives a start at first as he's magically brought back to mostly fine condition, but tries to brush it off with a bit of a blinks as he's brought up with healing magic.
He stands and tries to take a look at the surrounding situation. A frown catches his face as he spots more goblins and their rat-dogs "Right... Foes a thataway! ... Ah, and there's me blade." He stoops back down to retrieve his sword, still quite a bit messy.
Constantine and Emma make short work of the two mounts that the goblins are riding into battle, each of their blades flashing with sparks of something a little bit beyond this world...
Hannelia and Sirio restore Roger to shipshape condition in the trice of an eye, and the old pirate is back on his feet, clutching his weapon once again!
The two goblins look askance at the death of their mounts, and throw glances over their shoulders as if judging the distance back to treeline. But they find their pluck long enough stand and trade blows once each, at least.
No sooner has Constantine asked after Emma's injury than he himself gets struck, though Emma manages to easily block the goblin's somewhat-fearful swing. Both goblin scurry back just a bit from the heroes.
One calls over his shoulder in the Goblin tongue.
Constantine grits his teeth as the goblin's blade finds a gap in his armor.
But the occultist doesn't give the goblin a chance to respond, though, following through with his cleave through its rat-like dog by stepping up and swinging again.
"Even more coming. Get ready, back there!"
"The bite from that overgrown rat itches like hell, but I'm alright otherwise!" Emma calls back to Constantine. "Good work taking yours out of play!"
She manages to deflect the blow from the goblin rider, though she can't understand whatever it is they're saying back and forth. Still, when the one facing her begins to back away, Emma raises an eyebrow.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" she demands, stepping swiftly after it, wincing slightly at the itching of her bite wound. "You picked the wrong farm to raid today," she grumbles, and strikes out with her sword.
Constantine and Emma make as quick a work of the last two goblins as they did the mounts. Perhaps they feel some vindication for earlier, harder battles against piles of insects and so forth...
Sirio dips his head and grips his pentacle. He mutters a small prayer and his form begins to shift rapidly as several identical images form around him.
He peers into the shade of the treeline and draws his morningstar. "Come cowardly worms! The shadows will not protect you from the Prince of Darkness!"
"More?" mutters Hannelia in response to Constantine's call. "Are you hurt?" she responds. "And you, Emma?" Drawing her bow again she moves back to the other side of the tree, scanning the edges of the field for signs of movement.
Constantine rolls his eyes at Sirio's Asmodean bravado, but nods as he keeps his eyes peeled for trouble. If the goblins understood the common tongue, and Constantine wasn't sure that they did, any intimidation was useful.
"You too," he calls over to Emma, admiring her glowing blade as he holds his own at the ready.
Back towards Hannelia, Constantine acknowledges the concern. "Yes, but we'll live, at least long enough to attack their next wave. If I fall, please just don't let me bleed out."
Back towards Hannelia, Constantine acknowledges the concern. "Yes, but we'll live, at least long enough to attack their next wave. If I fall, please just don't let me bleed out."
"Not while I'm still breathing," she promises.
"Yahaar! Well done, they're breaking upon ye like waves against the bow!" Roger was on his way to aid Constantine but the lad seemed to have it handled, so he cheered instead. He kept a weather eye out.
15 roger
15 Izgarp
14 sirio
9 emma
7 con
4 hannelia
Our heroes take a moment to regroup after having solidly beaten the goblin riders-- defensive magics are cast, and queries of welfare bandied around-- then a moment's silence, before a ululating, shrill howl from the thick shrubs that grow past the fence-line. There is no rhyming taunt this time, clever or not; just a sort of rising screaming that seems to echo among the trees and momentarily makes you feel surrounded, like a whole horde of the small, voracious creatures might burst out at any minute.
It's just three though who poke their heads out, over on the far side of the stream. They jump through the fence or twisting through it like so many manic, violent squirrels. They offer you terrible grins-- flecks of purple staining their sharp, jagged teeth-- and try to pepper you all with their small, but painful, arrows.
Emma tries to deflect another arrow with a sweep of her shield, but it's timed wrong, and the missile sings past her guard to find her skin, leaving the young Iomedan dangerously close to keeling over. Hannelia is no luckier, two arrows biting deep. Surely defeat cannot come so soon, for these bold adventurers....
Roger rushes up next to Hannelia, getting between her and the archers, spreading his tall frame wide in front of her.
"You scallywaggling scumbucklers! I bet the lot've ye never even seen a flame, what cowardly muckrakers ye be!" Roger tries to give the goblins an insult they'd find particularly foul, betwixt his own. Not that it was sure the Goblins even understood his accented tongue.
A javelin streaks out of the bushes to the south-- but hits the ground before Constantine's feet, quivering there, the throw having had more strength than skill behind it. Following the line of sight to its source shows an exceptionally large goblin standing atop the split rail fence having emerged from the brush. The goblin stands four feet tall and seems to be pretty buff for a goblin, the usual skinny, wiry limbs replaced with hard-packed muscle and veins that twitch and bulge almost as if something is alive beneath them. A battered steel helmet, perhaps originally crafted for a halfling knight, sits atop the goblin's head, and the eyes that stare from beneath it at you all seem somewhat crazed. Purple froth flecks the goblin's sharp teeth, and one hand is curled around the handle of a horsechopper.
"IZGAAAAAAAAAARP!" cry the goblins on the far side of the stream, cheering in shrill voices.
Panting slightly from her wounds, Emma glances up as the armored goblin makes his appearance. "Wonderful," she mutters to herself. "Just what we needed. I think I preferred the ones that pretended to be sheep." The goblin is both taller and bulkier than the other goblins they've fought so far - and based on the purple froth in it's mouth, there's also the potential that it's been corrupted by the abyss as well.
Because of course it is, she thinks to herself.
Steeling herself, she moves closer to Constantine. "I won't let you stand against that thing alone. I'm with you," she says. "But we may need to fall back. I'm pretty wounded but I'll follow your lead," she tells him. "Another thing to keep in mind - I think it's been corrupted, much like the insects we've fought before. Be cautious when engaging it."
She glances over her shoulder towards Roger and Hannelia. "I don't feel right about our party being split like this," she admits to Constantine. Then she turns her head towards the other two. "Roger! Hannelia! If you can, try to fall back behind the tree - get out of the range of their arrows!"
Then, knowing her wounds are rather serious, she takes out one of her health potions and downs it, hoping it will be enough to carry her through the fight to come.
Sirio responds to Izgaarp in kind, screaming unintelligibly as he brandishes his pentacle in his bucklered fist.
Several dark voices augment his own as he casts his spell, Y̸͖͝e̴͆ͅ c̸͉̓h̷͓̔i̴̳͋l̷̙̓d̵̗̐ o̸̙͛f̵̼̽ H̴̹̓a̵̛̦d̵̗̐r̴͍̓a̵̛̦g̷̻̀a̵̛̦s̷͕͘h̷͓̔! A̵̪͝s̷͕͘m̸̼̏o̸̙͛d̵̗̐e̴͆ͅu̸̳̐s̷͕͘ s̷͕͘h̷͓̔a̵̛̦l̷̙̓l̷̙̓ f̵̼̽l̷̙̓a̵̛̦y̵̨̎ y̵̨̎o̸̙͛u̸̳̐r̴͍̓ s̷͕͘k̸̫͘i̴̳͋n̸̦̈́ f̵̼̽r̴͍̓o̸̙͛m̸̼̏ y̵̨̎o̸̙͛u̸̳̐r̴͍̓ b̴̤̓o̸̙͛n̸̦̈́e̴͆ͅs̷͕͘ f̵̼̽o̸̙͛r̴͍̓ t̶̳͠h̷͓̔i̴̳͋s̷͕͘ t̶̳͠r̴͍̓a̵̛̦i̴̳͋t̶̳͠o̸̙͛r̴͍̓o̸̙͛u̸̳̐s̷͕͘ t̶̳͠r̴͍̓a̵̛̦n̸̦̈́s̷͕͘g̷̻̀r̴͍̓e̴͆ͅs̷͕͘s̷͕͘i̴̳͋o̸̙͛n̸̦̈́! F̷͘ͅl̷̙̓e̴͆ͅe̴͆ͅ b̴̤̓e̴͆ͅf̵̼̽o̸̙͛r̴͍̓e̴͆ͅ t̶̳͠h̷͓̔e̴͆ͅ m̸̼̏i̴̳͋g̷̻̀h̷͓̔t̶̳͠ o̸̙͛f̵̼̽ y̵̨̎o̸̙͛u̸̳̐r̴͍̓ t̶̳͠r̴͍̓u̸̳̐e̴͆ͅ m̸̼̏a̵̛̦s̷͕͘t̶̳͠e̴͆ͅr̴͍̓, l̷̙̓e̴͆ͅs̷͕͘t̶̳͠ y̵̨̎o̸̙͛u̸̳̐ f̵̼̽a̵̛̦c̸͉̓e̴͆ͅ f̵̼̽i̴̳͋n̸̦̈́a̵̛̦l̷̙̓ j̸̲͋u̸̳̐d̵̗̐g̷̻̀e̴͆ͅm̸̼̏e̴͆ͅn̸̦̈́t̶̳͠!
"Not while I'm still breathing," she promises.
Taking not one but two goblin arrows in quick succession, Hannelia sways but just manages to stay on her feet. That was a bloody stupid thing to say, swims into her mind, adding to her already occupied thoughts on whether to aid herself with a potion or run for it and go down swinging.
No point standing here just to be a sitting duck, she thinks, better to try and turn the tide in our favour. And Desna, I really hope you’ve got my back here.
As Roger arrives to cover her, she wheezes out a thank you. Squeezing her jaws together against the pain, blocking out the throbbing inside her skull, she singles out the goblin who shot Emma and returns fire with an arrow back across the stream. As soon as she releases the bowstring she dashes for cover under the tree, hoping that she’ll be less of a target there. Once she has made it, she peeks back to see whether her aim was true.
A curious thing about the Crusades at the Worldwound: it attracted both Hellknights and paladins of Iomedae, along with all manner of mercenary seeking glory and Caydenite looking for a thrill. The alliance against the Abyss was near all-encompassing save for the cultists hewing to demon lords. Still, Constantine isn't sure that even the darkest summons from Hell would move these goblins much.
And this goblin--a particularly tall goblin or an embarassingly short hobgoblin?--must be Izgaarp.
Constantine nods at Emma's words of warning. "Falling back seems wise, but goblins make the wise seem like fools. It takes altogether different tactics to engage these cantankerous, balloon-headed, horse-hating pyromaniacs. I'll try to draw this one in and give us an opportunity to surround them."
Constantine bangs his sword against his shield three times, then reaches to unhook the shield from his arm and drop it. He finds an inner reserve of calm and envisions wards of protection surrounding him as red and white wisps of light swirl about him. He grasps hold of his blade in both hands and raises the sword into the air, pointed at Izgaarp.
Sirio feels a curious thing as he tries to instill the fear of Hell in the big(gish) goblin.... it's as if his prayer hit a wall and bounced off. Roger moves to defend Hannelia, who looses a painful arrow and then pulls back to cover, while Emma drinks a quick restorative and Constantine further girds himself for war...
The goblins chitter and chortle. Seeing Roger standing there a lone target, two of them do their best to pepper him with arrows.
The third, nearly felled by Hannelia's arrow, scampers back snarling into the trees, disappearing from sight into the brush.
"Oh, that's right done for now! Coming for ye!"
Roger will attempt to cross the river with a leap, or barring that, some swimming, to engage the goblin archers.
Roger tries to vault the stream, but it's not the most graceful water-crossing he's ever managed-- he lands about halfway across in the swollen spring runoff, and splashes his way to the far side, emerging wet and wild on the other bank, and dripping his way along to threaten one of the diminutive archers, though that's as far as he gets for now.
The big goblin sneers once at Sirio's threat, spitting dark bile onto the earth. It locks beady, red-burning eyes with Constantine. In guttural, broken Common, it says a single word: "Okay."
Closing with Constantine and his challenge, the oversized goblin swings its horsechopper two-handed at the red-armored warrior. When its blade connects, there seems to be a flare of dark, warped light, like some sort of evil parody of the holy energy that had suffused Emma's sword when she struck the dog.
The goblin bares its teeth in a dark smile of triumph, and looks next at Emma.
"Glowy. Kill you. For Mezodarath! For Mother!"
”Oh hells,” Hannelia exhales. As the goblin warrior, clearly a leader based on brute strength if nothing else, savagely hews down Constantine, all thoughts of healing herself flee. She knows that she has little chance going toe to toe with such a creature but she also has a clear shot and raising Constantine up only for him to be battered as he tries to stand seems a poor choice at the moment. ”I’ve still got you,” she says to the unconscious man, ”just not quite yet.”
So saying, she stares into the goblin’s eyes, and unnerved by the ferocity she sees there, withdraws a step before unleashing an arrow straight at it.
”Any chance you can channel that divine power again?” she asks Emma. ”How about you, Sirio?”