Swinging to face the thug with the club, Mos mutters a curse under his breath and fires an arrow at the approaching menace.
Attack:
Damage:
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Peeking over the tree trunk, Eireachdail hears a feminine sound of worry and fear from one side. Thinking it was Jenneleth he leans over to provide some encouragement only to find himself face to face with Zeebo! A 'what-the-hell' expression comes over his face, and something was about to fly from his lips when the betrayal occurs.
"Betrayal, most foul, Indeed! Carlanis ! Franz! Culk! Marco! All of your names will be known across the land for your betrayal this day! Mark my words! " Eireachdail shouts, drawing his blade and chopping at the man that dared harm fair Jenneleth.
Ulfbrecht turns to the human as the staff cracks against the tree, eye twitching. "Fūl swica.." the dwarf growls. He turns his grip on his handaxe and swings towards the man, dismayed with himself for being caught off guard.
(str + ranger bonus)
A rainbow cone springs forth from the caster’s hand, causing
nearby creatures to fall asleep. The spell can affect a number
of creatures equal to 1d4 plus the caster’s level. The cone is
5 feet wide at origin and its width is equal to its length at
any point up to 25 feet. The closest creatures in the cone are
affected first.
The result of the spell depends upon the HD of the targeted
creatures. Creatures of 2 HD or less are struck unconscious for 2d4
rounds; creatures of 3 to 4 HD are blinded for 1d4 rounds; and
creatures of 5 HD or greater are stunned for one round. Creatures
of the same level or HD as the caster, and all creatures with 5 HD
or greater may make a wisdom saving throw to shake off the color
spray. Sightless creatures are not affected by color spray.
She messed up. That is the thought that was going through her mind. She messed up. She'd let her guard down. She'd been too clumsy, too stupid, too worried about maintaining the facade. Now, she's dodging cudgels and listening to her dead father's voice cursing her for her idiocy. As she ducks under the blow aimed at knocking her sense, and succeeding in taking her hat and wig and knocking the beard and moustache askew, she spots the rusty manacles, and terror grips her heart like an iron vise. She is going to be made a slave. They were going to chain her up and sell her to the gods only know who. Panic fully sets in as she reaches for threads of power in her mind and the small colored beads in her spell component pouch. Ping hurriedly chants the words to the spell, the only spell that might save her from a fate she feared as much as finding herself in Gulven Malidont's clutches. She fans her fingers as she holds out her hands toward the two men, palms facing them and six colored beads held between her fingers. She knows she's not fast enough. She knows that the one that had tried to knock her out would get another chance before she can finish casting the spell as she frantically rolls the words of the chant off her tongue and pulls on the threads that made up reality.
Hûƞidark barrels into the wounded archer slamming his fist into the man, the sound of cracking tree intermixed with the crunch of bone.
As one archer falls, so too does another. Spiro's speculative shot also finds its mark, and tho' it clips a leaf or three it carries enough to drop the man.
For his part Mos let's fly at the advancing Carlanis, though his arrow ne'er gives the burly man pause...
"That tickled little haef'a'man!"
Further down the road Ulfbrecht engages Marko, who avoids the dwarven hatchet with a sneer;
"Dunno what you said oremonger but you fight like that drunk Grizzler!"
By the fallen tree, Marko's companions fare less well. Incensed by Jenneleth's treatment Eireachdail lands a solid slice upon Culk, while Ping brings to bear her magic on the rural thugs;
The iridescent cone rendering both men unconscious!
Despite the odds the remaining ne'er-do-wells fight on!
Looming over Mos, Carlanis snarls and brings his heavy cudgel to bear on the rogue:
... but Mos proves too elusive to the ham-fisted brute.
Feeling he has the measure of the dwarven ranger, Franz attempts to crack him with his stave;
... but his swing is wild and ill-judged.
A vibrant spray of scintillating reds, yellows, greens, blues, and purples envelops the the two thugs, and it's all Ping can do not to hyperventilate and pass out. The image of the chains hits her again and again as she watches the two men fall. Her mind, the part not consumed by panic, insists that it's important. That she needs to tell the others.
she screams, not bothering to disguise her voice. To those who hadn't learned her secret yesterday, it's pleasant enough, or would be if not strained by fear and the need to get the information out.
The words snap her from the fear threatening to paralyze. Yes, they were slavers, and they'd intended to take her for a slave. She snarls as she draws her dagger.
she tells the others, the fear fast fading into red-tinged rage. Bad enough a violent thug wants her for the debts her father had incurred. She will not be a slave. She refuses!
She drives the blade into the closest thug's throat.
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Round 3
More gore coats the half-orc’s blood-drenched cestus as he pushes through the woods at the cries from Ping/Zeebo and the threats from the bandit’s villainous leader. He’d never liked bullies, and a grown man going after a halfling – even a skilled one – didn’t sit well.
Hûnidark jogs up behind Carlanis, attempting to draw his ire. ”Why don’t you try that cudgel on my skull, little man?” He waits for the bandit to turn around before trying to drive the cestus into the man’s face, only pulling his punch and twisting his fist at the last moment to avoid possibly breaking the other man's neck.
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Stun (1):
Fate (3): x
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Ulfbrecht frowns at himself for missing such an easy strike; perhaps fighting in the wide openness of the surface and beneath the light of the sun will take some getting used to. Fortunately his adversary isn't fairing much better and he watches the quarterstaff sail harmlessly by.
Then a voice rings hard against his ears; a voice unfamiliar but the words all too. "Slavers! They're slavers!" The shout echoes deep into his bones and reverberates within his skull and he is nearly sucked away from the present for a split second before his gaze snaps hard onto Franz. His brow furrows more than the field of a ten-armed plougher behind on his taxes as a mask of pure wroth usurps his face.
"þeow-makere, eh?" He reaches out to grasp the man before him with his hands and attempt to hold him against the tree. "Ye will speak what you know!"
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Elyan has rarely seen such hasty violence, not for centuries at least. He questions his choices that lead him to a group so proficient in it. He makes a shaky attempt to knock an arrow but the skirmish appears all but over before he dare draw his bow. Not trusting his aim against foes with 'companions' in close proximity he puts a hand to the horses, as much to calm himself as to calm them. He tries to observe the remaining action and steel himself for the next time. This... is the world I've been missing?
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Eireachdail frowns at Zeebo's new personality, then smiles as he/she flings magic around and then unceremoniously dispatches one of the unconscious bandits, "I like this new you, old man!" he declares.
He then joins in the necessary and calmly slits the throat of the other unconscious bandit.
Then his face no longer smiling, looks up to see where that Carlanis has gotten to.
"If you've got this handled, I'll make sure the archers are down for good".
Spiro moves to begin checking on the downed archers to make sure they're really dead... and that there are no more.
With the brute right before him, Mos fires at point blank range hoping to silence the slaver for good!
Attack:
Damage:
Hûnidark cracks the burly gang leader, leaving him battered and bruised, while Mos takes the opportunity to imbed another of his arrows into Carlanis' broad back, eliciting a bellow of pain!
Meanwhile skald and old haelfling apply a coup de grace upon the downed Culk and Franz!
Spiro arrives at the first archer and find him very dead. The man's jaw and the rest of his skull align in different directions.
Evading the grasp of the doughty dwarv, Marko grimaces and swings wildly at the ranger;
"Keep yer distance dwarv! I'll not have yer grubby mine-paws on me!"
However his prowess does not match his fervour and his swing meets naught by thin air!
Battered and pierced by his two foes, Carlanis smiles through bloodied teeth and mutters an aside to Mos...
"Rest most assured you sneaky runt, once I batter yer mongrel friend 'ere, I'll grind yer haefling bones to make my bread!"
... then brings his cudgel to bear with a thumping blow upon the brawler of Kordd!
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Ping starts shaking as the man takes his last breath. She pushes past the urge to just gibber and cower and turns her attentions to Lady Jenneleth. She was just a charge, someone that they had to protect true, but not someone that she would have called a friend or dear. Still, the young woman has been nothing but kind and accepting of Ping and her alter ego, and the gnome is far to grateful for that to not care about her in turn. She crawls over to the unconscious woman and tries to rouse her.
"Lady Jenneleth, please, wake up! We need to get you somewhere safe," she says as she pats the good lady on the cheek.
Spiro takes a quick look back to make sure that the others have the remaining combatant under control before moving on to the next supposed corpse.
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Round 4
Hûnidark feels the blood trickling from the crease in his scalp. He shakes his head to clear his vision. It was a good wallop, no doubt about that… and he couldn’t afford to take another. He shifts and weaves, giving himself a few moments to consider multiple ways to attack and the risk of each method. The safest course was striking to kill, piling his efforts on top of Mos’ to drop the bandit leader before he can use that cudgel again. But bringing the bandits in for questioning and justice was the better option, just in case they had other prisoners somewhere.
The half-orc weighs his options and makes a choice. He feints, fakes a punch to the man’s head, then drives his cestus into Carlanis’ solar plexus, hoping to take the fight out of him.
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Stun (1):
Fate (3): x
Eireachdail sees the bandit leader in a fight with two of his comrades, and Ulfbrecht by his lonesome.
Electing to assist the dwarf, Eireachdail sprints over to deliver a slash with his broadsword!