The dwarves make further combat preparations, Dran throwing back the potion of the deceased Janira in her honor. His beard thickens and becomes hard and stringy, protecting his neck.
The minotaur sees a dwarf nearby and shuffles over to attack him. Because of the thick underbrush, the fiend fortunately isn't able to unleash his full set of attacks.
for
Who takes an axe to the face. His god doesn't protect him from the blow, because a good god teaches lessons. But Torag does keep him from death's door, so there is that. And gives a chance for REVENGE!
Group Buffs: Inspire Courage +1 LINGERING 3/3
Ander (-11 HP)
Halali
Bilos
Phantom (AoO w/ no flanking, then full round of actions)
Kaztor (-12 HP, Smite Up, AC 17)
The Magi
Grunigon
Dran (AC 20, Barkskin 30m, Divine Favor 1 rd remains)
Janira DEAD
Minotaur (-7 HP)
Bold may act!
Kaztor steps in and swings his holy axe. It connects, leaving a large gash across the stomach of the minotaur. The wound sizzles with holy energy and appears quite painful!
Ander fires at the shoulder of the fiend and is about to jerk the barrel offline in anticipation of the recoil, but at the last second he recalls a really good tip from a seasoned shooter and relaxes, holding it on target and letting the bang 'surprise' him. It pays off and he hits the beast again !
The monk charges in to attack, ducking the incoming blade and striking hard at a kneecap. She hears the happy noise of bone shattering under her blow .
Jadrin slams the bull-man on the shin with her shield as he strides past, surprising him a bit with the blow. He glares at her, that won't happen again. And true to his thoughts, he avoids her next two swings.
Her 'master' moves in to help an injured ally.
Grunigon works to get back into the fight, but the way things are going it may be too late... to get a shot at killing this beast at least.
Group Buffs: Inspire Courage +1 LINGERING 3/3
Kaztor (-12 HP, Smite Up, AC 17)
Ander (-11 HP)
Halali (Fight Defensively AC 20)
Bilos
Phantom
Grunigon
The Magi
Dran (AC 20, Barkskin 30m, Divine Favor 1 rd remains)
Janira DEAD
Minotaur (-34 HP)
Bold may act!
When Dran finally gets to the fight, he is ready to go. Spittle flies from his frothy lips as he swings with all his might. The blade connects at the fiend’s waist in a slightly upwards trajectory, continuing through until meat and bone are completely separated.
The Minotaur’s death isn’t like those pictures and stories you hear. It isn’t clean or quiet. He screams, bloodcurdling anguish escaping with his last breath as blood and bile pour out of the two halves. It is a memory that will stay with you your entire life.
After what feels like an eternity, but may well have been only a few seconds, the body stops moving and the forest is silent.
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BIlos rushes over to Janira as fast as his stubby little legs can take him to see if there is anything he could do to help.
"What a wound! I could make 399 strikes and never manage something so devastating. But Pathfinders don't give up!"
"Magrim, I do not usually call on you, but this one died in battle to protect seven of your children. Send her back from your domain!"
His efforts in vain, Bilos collapses on the spot and weeps silently.
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After quick thanks to Gorum Dran considers how to safely cross the stream then calls out from his side She was a brave lass. We should carry her body back ta the Society for honors due and rites proper. And she said she had contingencies. The warpriest considers. We could take the head o' this beast as a trophy but I'm fer leaving it where it fell and takin the axe as such.
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Grunigon jogs up as the battle has ended.... He clearly sees the devastation and upset of his comrades. Janira was in pieces....
"Chop the head from the beast! It deserves no honor. Throw parts of the body in the water for fish to eat!" He grabs hold of a foot and tries, but the thing is quite heavy. "Did anyone search it? If it has anything of value, that should be taken. Let it's corpse be consumed as naked as it was at its foul birth."
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She showed absolutely no fear...a true warrior to the end... Ander says solemnly as he helps look after Janira's body
She said something about preparations or precautions...didn't she? We have to take her back quickly..might be religious reasons...
He turns to the defeated beast.
I can do that...taking a trophy back though... Ander says as he takes both horns from the dead minotaur. Gonna make powder horns out of these...to remember this mission..
The exultation of defeating such a powerful foe is quickly tempered by the sight of Janira's body across the bridge. Quickly moving to it, the dwarves all react differently, though generally a bit stoically.
Bilos being the only outlier showing strong emotion.
But what is done is done, she isn't coming back. Perhaps the society can help or at least give a good burial. It is late, it is dark, this area is still somewhat dangerous. The pathfinders quickly loot the body and get a start back towards town, trying to put some distance between them and any other minotaurs that might soon seek revenge.
Janira is wrapped up in a halfling sized sack... now it makes sense why she carried one of those. She also had seven dwarf sized sacks.
Eventually after stopping once to rest your exhausted bodies, the dwarves and phantom make it back to civilization and the lodge. You are immediately rushed in to be checked out by medical staff and Janira's body is taken away. A somber Drandle Dreng comes in for your report, "Alright, what the hell happened out there?"
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"When we reached the site," Bilos begins glumly, "Mistress Gavix noticed some sort of disturbance. She sent us into the caves while she investigated, and when we finished, we found her fighting a minotaur. We were too slow to reach her, and..." The spiritualist tails off, allowing the others to add any details they wish.
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That thing felled her with one swing. In hindsight, we should have disobeyed her orders to head into the cave...should have put a bullet right between that overgrown steak's eyes...but we were following her guidance..damned if we do, damned if we don't. But I'd rather be punished for disobeying an order than this...ahh... Ander says, getting angry with himself.
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"I hope she didn't die in vain. We did complete the mission" Halali notes with sadness. "The caves hold a sort of shrine to Aroden. All sorts of ancient engravings on the walls. The gillmen use it as a meditation chamber - there's a pool there. We have some drawings we made.
We met a gillman there. Some sort of mystic nudist. He seemed happy for other Pathfinders to visit."
Dreng frowns at the report, "Well, that certainly wasn't the best outcome. But far from the worst. You all came back and that beast won't bother anyone else again. Plus..."
"...Janira had taken out our best insurance policy before leaving. She always was a smart girl. Anyway, the policy will pay for a full resurrection. We'll get that paperwork started right away and have her back on her feet by the weekend."
He looks at each of you in turn, "Thank you for completing the mission. Sometimes death happens. Sometimes it isn't permanent. Sometimes it is. This is a dangerous life path you all have begun. I wouldn't question a single one of you if you disappeared with your pay and were never seen by us again. But if you want to be the ones risking your lives to make the world safer, then I'll make sure to give you more chances at that."
When all is said he dismisses you with a wave, "Reports on my desk in three days. We will have your pay calculated and ready tomorrow."
Drandle Dreng winks at the gunslinger, "All right then, if I find anything Dorganous, I'll know who to call."
____________________________
The pack of dwarves have been pretty busy working their side hustles, enjoying their downtime or both. But the weekly wages just aren't cutting it, compared to what they are pulling down adventuring. Only Grunigon is even pulling down decent coin, managing to accumulate twenty gold by this point.
So when the call from Dreng (again) comes in, there is no hesitation to get to the meeting. They arrive and the usually poorly dressed undercover looking bum has cleaned up nicely. Hair trimmed and tied back. Beard manicured and nice tailored clothes. He even has a decent scent to him, though his goofy smile is still there.
"Welcome Dwarves! This one is right up your alley, you even know a few of the players."
He pulls out a map of the surrounding wetlands around the city, "Alright, so that gilman you befriended was from a coastal tribe, not too far from the city. Apparently you made a great impression and they sent a long flowery thank you note. They also included a request, with offer of pay. Apparently a tribe of troglodytes stole a holy relic from them, an orb of moonlight. We aren't sure what it does, but what does matter is getting it back for them. Our sources have pinpointed the troglodyte tribe as being located in an old abandoned fortress out in the swamps. The job is simple, go get the orb. If you manage to wipe out the Trogs or bring them to justice, that would be a good thing. They have been responsible for a fair bit of theft and likely a couple 'disappearances' of those that live nearby. You all up for it?"
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Hmm...trogs stink..that much I can say for sure...other bits and bobs of info might come to me...let me ponder on it for a bit... Ander says as he gets out a silver cigar box and pulls out a fresh smoke. He clips the end and lights it with shining new gadgets.
What? I treated my self to a few creature comforts...I'm not gonna smoke the cheap stuff my whole life... he says in defense of his extravagant purchases.
Now...anyone got a map of this area?
[ooc]still gotta do a couple gear things...going with paper cartridges...tired of the looooog reload time...worth the odd jam...
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Kaz didn’t know anything about these trogs being discussed. All he knew was he wanted a chance to show off his new hammer. ”Told you all it was the hammer, and not me. I’ll be bashing left and right with this new one. Masterwork, they called it! Should be ale to smack one of those trogs right in the kisser!”
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A semi-transparent dwarven woman, nearly beardless and in robes that would seem more appropriate in a temple than a dungeon, appears behind Bilos as he returns. "I am Psara," she says almost dismissively, "called the Horntaker for my actions at the Battle of Burning Hollow, whereupon I slew the demon Mikanoto..."
One of the seven dwarves (not counting the ever changing phantom) is noticed as not being present. Probably off doing all sorts of crazy secret fun awesome things. Probably.
Halali and Bilos recall reading about these kind of towers. Throughout most of recent History (for a dang long time now) the City of Absalom both was and is a very important location. Due to this important status, an incredibly large number of forces have attempted to take control of it. Many more of them fail than succeed, but quite a few of them are extensive sieges. And in some of these sieges, entire buildings have been erected to serve as command posts. This tower was likely one of those, though neither recall any specifics other than just the overview of why it might exist.
Ander is quite aware of trogs from having studied all sorts of possible targets for his boomstick. Scaley gray humanoids, their frames resemble that of a cave lizard, with a long tail and crests on its head and back. Claws, teeth and pointy sticks are generally what they use to kill things. But most importantly is the stench. Anyone within a short distance (30 ft) is hit with a wave of a gaggingly disgusting odor (sickened 10 rds if fail fort save). Beyond that, he just knows they are a common creature to encounter in caves or dungeons.
The group heads out on their adventure, happy and ready to do some good! About a half day travel and they arrive.
The ruined siege castle now being called the Fallen Fortress rises out of the churned earth of the Cairnlands. No doors or windows mar the otherwise smooth expanse of the tower’s walls. The tower is quatrefoil in plan; its eastern wing has largely collapsed, exposing the interior floors to the open air. Only the topmost level seems whole, though its eastern portion hangs precariously over the mountain of rubble left by the collapse. At ground level, the rubble frames a gaping hole in the side of the building that provides access to the tower’s darkened interior.