The dry hilltops danced with fire.
Throughout the heart of the wild badlands the humans called the Wyrmsmokes, great bonfires had been kindled atop the ridges overlooking Elsir Vale. There thousands of warriors had gathered—hobgoblins in armor dyed scarlet, thick-thewed bugbear berserkers, goblin worg riders and skirmishers and archers, and the scaled ones as well, who often towered over the rest. For so long they had fought each other, tribe against tribe, race against race, engaged in the endless test of battle, feud, and betrayal. But tonight . . . tonight they stood together, hated enemies shoulder-to- shoulder, shouting together as brothers. And they saw that they were strong, and together they danced and sang and shook their blades at the smoke-hidden stars overhead.
they shouted, and the hills shook with the thunder of their voices.
One by one the tribes fell silent. Armor creaked as thousands turned to look up to the Place of Speaking. There, a single champion emerged from the assemblage and slowly climbed the ancient stone stair cut into the side of the hill. A hundred bright yellow banners stood beneath him like a phalanx of spears, each marked with a great red hand. The warpriests holding the banners chanted battle-prayers in low voices as the champion ascended.
On the hundredth step he stopped and turned to face the waiting warriors. He was tall and strong, one of the hobgoblin chieftains, but dull blue scales gleamed along his shoulders, and jutting horns swept back from his head. he cried.
The warriors roared their approval, stamping their feet and clashing spear to shield. Azarr Kul waited, holding his hands aloft until they quieted again.
The burning hills were too small to hold the shout the Kulkor Zhul gave in answer to their warlord’s call.
The summer heat of the Vale was oppressive. Even more oppressive was the sense of unease you all feel as you travel west along the Dawn road. You’ve spent the last several days on the road, alternating between nights in the various towns and villages along with the occasional night spent camped along the road. The party met in the city of Brindol, where Valen and his strong-arm companion Xulgag have been leveraged into looking into the reports of some of the lesser goblin and hobgoblin tribes making trouble in the western Witchwood. Some of the homesteads have sent word back of a number of raids in the frontier regions of the Elsir Vale around the smaller town of Drellin’s Ferry. As they walk out of the city gates, looking forward to their several day journey west towards the smaller town, they are joined by an elven woman and a younger half-elven man. Fueled by intuition, the woman Luanna feels a compulsion to speak and fall in with the two adventurers. The half-elven man Stenson is seeking to connect with his elven lineage and has elected to accompany his recently acquainted grandmother.
The further west you go, the less you observe the familiar presence of the Lions of Brindol, who routinely patrol the Dawn Road to keep it free of banditry and trouble. Your journey is punctuated only by idle talk amongst each other and the occasional excessively hot afternoon that forces you to make camp earlier to avoid overextending yourselves.
You all have found yourselves half a day’s travel from Drellin’s Ferry, having departed Terrelton a day ago, and breaking camp early this morning to make the final day’s journey.
Xulgag trudges along the road, his boots rhythmically striking the compacted earth as the metal strips of his armor glint in the sun. "Half day left, we have been blessed with few delays, hopefully it stays that way," Xulgag says scanning the horizon.
Sten walks beside the Orc and nods in agreement.
"Fine weather has made this trip much more enjoyable than the last tie I was traveling this way!"
He remembers the trip as if it were just yesterday. It was shortly after he had tracked down his Grandmother and was still reeling from that most uncomfortable encounter. Again, like yesterday, he can remember his first sight of the woman whom he was descended from, out in the forest by an old cabin he had remembered his mother telling him about. The resemblance to his own mother was remarkable, but where her 'elven' traits were somewhat muted, Grandmothers were sharply defined!
The introduction had been harder than he had expected. He had not envisioned the complete lack of interest and the otherworldly aura she gave off. She was so distant, like he did not really exist to her as a person, but more as a concept that she was forced to accept. Perhaps all "true' elves were like this, but her detachment had taken him aback. It was not that she was hostile to him...she seemed to exhibit no emotions at all. And now, here he was, traveling with her to the town he called home, and introducing her to his friends and soon-to-be wife, Jilyian.
"It was during that first trip that I settled in the small village of Assardoth, just a day or so travel out from Drellin’s Ferry...and met my Jilyian!"
Luanna walked in silence with her grandson and an orc who behaved not at all like the orcs Emersohn, her late husband, had described fighting. He had weapons as she expected, but he seemed to be more like the other humans of the Vale than she would ever expect an orc to be.
She forced herself to make small talk with all of her companions. Emersohn had taught her that when she first started spending time in the physical plane of the Vale, so different from her native plane populated by her kin, the Eladrin. "If you become uncomfortable with anyone, just ask them to talk about themselves," he had instructed. "Most people like talking about themselves and their families, and they assume you are interested in the same things and take an interest in you as well." She had never mastered the talent, but she had tried to fit in, at least while her husband and children had lived with her. She had done less and less of that as she retreated into the wood. If the voice spoke true, she might have to relearn her skills with people. Her destiny seemed to be entwined with theirs.
Her grandson had mentioned he was engaged. So she asked, "Tell me about your fiancé, Jilly-Ann." She considered that she might have met this person, for she occasionally visited the town when she was in the southwest Witchwood and in need of supplies or seeking to share some of her medicines with those she sometimes learned were ill. She tended not to remember names and details of who was related to whom, however.
Then she asked, "Do you intend to settle in Drellin's Ferry or return to Assardoth?"
To Xulgag, she said, "Do you have a wife and family in the Vale?" As she said it, she sensed it may have been a foolish question. Knowing from personal experience how the locals tended to distrust people of different races, she thought Xulgug may be a loner like herself.
Valen walks with a purpose, quietly thinking as they walked. The armor reflecting the sun, and the sigil on it plainly visible. The sword held with a backdrop of flames, he was glad he only had to explain it once really. He never liked mentioning his ties to nobility, it made things awkward and strange. As he continues to walk he is reminded of the blade at his hip and it’s weight, despite its relatively normal appearance.
He looks over at Luanna, the elven woman’s attempt at small talk wasn’t the worst he had seen. But it was awkward. The small group that had formed was one he welcomed, the solidarity of others was welcome. It was an excuse to not seek out unwelcome conversations. Xulgag was interesting such a grizzled Orc yet he could be articulate unlike some men he had met. Luanna was an elf as if out of a story, otherworldly and close to nature he couldn’t help but wonder, how someone as mystical as herself ended up simply on the road. Then Stensan the young man was her grandson, bright eyed and full of vigor.
Content to let the others speak he simply nods in response to Xulgag.
As you near mid afternoon, the environ begins to slowly give way from a rolling grassland to a more forested footpath. The way is still improved and wide enough for a wagon's breadth, but the path begins to cut its way through some low hills, and occasionally the road is flanked on either end by steeper embankments before it opens up again a quarter mile or so along.
Ahead you see a group of people traveling in the same direction as you. They appear to be a pair of guards flanking a young woman with slight features that suggest a distant elven lineage. They don't appear to be moving at a blistering pace, so eventually your pace brings you near them. They take notice and turn to you, the woman greeting you with a warm smile. Her hair is a fiery red that hangs to her shoulder blades, and her eyes a striking emerald green. She stands at average height and is dressed in a fairly nice dress of hunter green. The bottom hem appears dusted from the road, but as you near you can make out the work of a skilled garment maker. She carries no pack, but you can make out a fine bag draped over the shoulder of one of the guards that seems misplaced on his otherwise mundane dress.
The guards are dressed in chain shirts over padded cloth and ordinary linen pants. They wear the same insignia and carry medium shields and spears. Each has a light traveling pack in addition to the one clearly shouldering the burden of the lady they accompany. Prior to your approach and notice you can hear them laugh softly at a joke that one of the guards made. The half-elven woman lets loose a snort as she laughs, which she responds to in brief embarrassment followed by recompose.
When you approach the guards' demeanor turns more serious, although not threatening. They take flanking positions alongside the woman and a half step forward of her, clearly a protective position. One of the guards, a flaxen haired human in his early adulthood speaks out to you in a commanding voice. He isn't hostile, but determined to assert dominance in the conversation despite your own individually capable appearances. "Ho there!! That's close enough. State your business and direction travelers. Don't get many folks on this side of the Vale. Been quite a few reports of marauders about. Best be honest in your answers too. Ole' Smitty's known around these parts for having an ear for the truth." He points a thumb at himself to indicate his status as the aforementioned 'Ole' Smitty', surprising given his age.
They don't seem to have recognized you yet.
Smiling, Sten turns to speak to his Grandmother.
She is from a traditional family and still goes by the old forms of names, so Jilyian. She is the daughter of a farmer and cattle rancher in Assardoth. She is a great rider and helps her father's ranch hands with the herds. I met her while out scouting the surrounding land from a pack of hyenas. She had followed a wayward calf into a wadi and was on her way out when several of the beasts showed up. I still remember her sitting on her horse, the calf tied and lying over the horse's neck as she drew and released arrow after arrow at the hyenas. By the time I got there she had killed 2 of the beasts, and between the two of us we were able to kill 3 more before the pack turned tail and ran. I accompanied her back to the ranch, where her father offered me a job riding the outskirts of his ranch keeping any harmful beasts from his cattle. Jilyian would occasionally join me on these trips, and soon we realized we had much in common. That was just 2 short years ago...now we are planning for our lives together!"
Coming up on the group that they had been following since about mid-day, Sten was very surprised to see Smitty and Del, both guards from Drellin's Ferry.
"Well I don't know about the Ole' part of it, but I am sure you can hear the truth in my voice, old friend."
Stensan steps forward and offers the guard his hand.
"What does Captain Anita have the two of you doing out here? I didn't realize the town guard acted as merchant guards as well!"
He laughs and introduces the others in the little group.
Luanna listens with genuine interest as Sten describes how he came to meet his fiancé. "She sounds capable and well off," is all she says in response. Then she adds, "I look forward to meeting her."
All the way along the Dawn Way, Luanna had debated whether or not to describe her premonitions of trouble. Her voice had urged her learn to speak goblin, had recommended traveling well armed, and to stock up on herbs useful for healing. She had shared her forebodings with Adranna the Young, the leader of the druids at Witchcross, who listened but gods only knew whether she put any stock in what she said.
In the end, all Luanna said to her traveling companions was, "Look sharp. All has been peaceful in these parts for a long time, but something tells me that may change. It's just a feeling, but I trust it enough to have purchased these," gesturing to the scythe on her back, and the other weapons on her belt, a sling, sickle, longsword, and club. She also carried a quarterstaff as she walked.
After a bit, she adds, "Best you know this in advance, if there is trouble: I may take on one of my wild shapes in a fight. I may turn into a tiger or a grizzly, depending on the enemy. I can also take the form of a hawk or an otter, which I sometimes do to scout from above or to explore underwater areas. Do not be alarmed."
As she travels, she keeps an eye on the plants by the road, watching for healing herbs for her herbalism kit.
When the trio is met on the road, Luanna regards them with caution and judges them to be no threat. When Sten introduces them, she says, "Well met. We have heard reports of raids on the western marches of the Spiderwood. Can you confirm these rumors?"
Valen offers a short word in conjunction with with Luanna and Stensan hoping to alleviate the guards concern.
I am Valen, strong sword arm and a want to help others. Maybe you need help with the these marauders? Have they hurt anyone in the area?”
You meet with some success in your search for useful herbs, finding some Pressed Spiderbulb early in your journey. As much as you try and keep yourself engaged with Stensan's explanation of his young wife-to-be and future father-in-law, it does prevent you from finding overwhelming success in your search.
Smitty's gaze shifts to you Stensan as you emerge from the group and he betrays recognition. His expression softens a bit and his shoulders relax as he and Del are set at ease. He's even more disarmed by the woman lightly touching his arm and reassuring him. "See Smitty, its nothing to be concerned about. Relax a bit and let's all make our introductions. My name is Miha Serani. I'm no merchant I'm afraid. I'm bound for Drellin's Ferry to see after my aging great aunt. Word has reached me that she's grown quite concerned about the raids nearby. I'm afraid her old nerves just don't handle upsets like they used to. Smitty and Del here happened upon me on the road from Terrelton and have so graciously offered to accompany me the rest of the way. Del here even volunteered to carry my bag. Such brave, strapping men." She smiles disarmingly at the two and they grin with a bit of boyish pride.
Smitty reaches out and grips your hand firmly, letting go you calling out his self-ascribed monicker of 'Ole' Smitty'. Del grips your hand in turn and they both make their greetings to the group. Smitty hears all of your questions and returns his answer, "It's worse than I can recall in my lifetime. I've heard the elders speak of times when raids were much more common, but the gods have blessed us of recent. There have been at least six or seven homesteads burned to the ground in the area. A few turnip farmers with little reward to show for the act. We've been to Terrelton twice in a fortnight, relaying messages back to Brindol of the concerns. We're just on our way back. We encountered Mrs. Miha on the road and figured it wasn't very safe for a lone traveller." He looks at you Stensan and hesitates. He looks to Del with concern in his eyes before returning his look to you and finally resolves himself to speak. "I probably shouldn't tell you this Stensan, but Jilyian is in town too. Her father's ranch was one of the homesteads that was attacked. She was able to get away with her younger sister and brother, but there were no other survivors. She's been put up along with some of the other refugees at the Old Bridge Inn. She's unhurt, but predictably shaken up. She'll be relieved to see you back."
Turning to Luanna, Del speaks for the first time in response, "Neither of us have heard much from anyone further west than a few miles. The Witchwood is probably crawling with the bastards. Fortunately they haven't been seen east of Drellin's Ferry, which is a good thi...."
Del's response is cut short as all of you are able to catch early sight of several groups of armored humanoid figures emerge from bushes and low trees along the roadside. Each group is comprised of 5 hobgoblin soldiers wielding longbows, and they immediately begin opening fire on you from either side. There are two squads in all. Miha starts and seems to share your notice of the attackers, although Del and Smitty are grossly unaware of the ambush. You are currently in an area that cuts through the hills, so each group is firing down on you from a relatively steep embankment, which is considered difficult terrain See map for reference. Just prior to encountering the group, a side trail split off from the main road and leads to an otherwise unremarkable looking dilapidated cabin.
Additionally, accompanying the northern squad is a bounding canine figure with obvious fiendish qualities. It's snarl pulls back unnaturally far, revealing rows of long, sharp teeth and trails of sulfurous smoke trail from the sides of its mouth. It's sinewy body is poised like a coiled spring to launch at you all.
I took these figures from your profiles, so if an Initiative modifier is wrong let me know.
Valen turns, almost preternaturally and sees the enemies. With a quick movement he draws the fine blade. The blade a slick slightly off color steel blade with a ornate handle and grip. An inscription along the base reads in a strange language; Hunlef.
He focuses for a moment and as he takes off several copies of him split off, ready to engage.
Valen turns, almost preternaturally and sees the enemies. With a quick movement he draws the fine blade. The blade a slick slightly off color steel blade with a ornate handle and grip. An inscription along the base reads in a strange language; Hunlef. ** spoiler omitted **
He focuses for a moment and as he takes off several copies of him split off, ready to engage.
Sten immediately snaps his staff up and suddenly silvery elven runes blaze upon the surface and a slivery string with a knocked arrow appears out of thin air.
Before most of the party has even acknowledged the enemy, Sten fires an arrow at the hobgoblins
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The next two arrows also leave the bow before most of the party can react to the ambush.
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Stensan’s lightning reflexes are apparent as he lets the first arrow loose towards the band to the northeast, striking one of the hobgoblins through the thigh. Valen’s visage splinters into four identical copies as he draws his blade and scrambles up the slope of the roadside, closing into melee with the band of marauders to the southeast. Stensan follows with two more arrows towards his originally targeted group, severely wounding one of the hobgoblins and striking true in another. The squad is now well bloodied.
The two hobgoblin bands see the amount of damage that these adventurers can hand out and adjust their tactics. The front two hobgoblins in each squad drop their bows and draw a long sword and shield to protect the group, while the back ranks of each let loose a volley. The northeast seeks retribution against Stensan, gaining advantage from the high ground they have. Several of the arrows find their mark, dealing 15 damage. They subsequently start moving down the embankment in lockstep, just barely closing in melee range of Del. The southwestern group targets Smitty, bringing him lifeless to the ground in one volley. The two swordsmen in the front ranks adjacent to Valen strike out against him , their swords flashing through a false image and causing it to blink out of existence. Miha is startled, but able to regain her composure quickly enough, she mutters a quick incantation in elvish and a shimmering field of protective arcane energy surrounds her.
Out of sight of the rest of the group, Kana sees from her hiding place the other two squads begin mobilizing, taking the their full movement down the side path towards the main road. As they pass the building one of them raps on the window and shouts in goblin to the occupants you know are inside. The well armored leader and the robed figure emerge and begin following the groups. You expect it will be another round of them moving before they are able to reach the main road and the following round they will be on the party being attacked. As the hellhound moves with them it sniffs the air.
Kana realizes she marched right into the middle of something she would rather not be in, as it seems to get more and more unpleasant.
Walking on her toes she tries to sneak between the stones, staying hidden and get a better picture of what's going on on the street, where all the noise is coming from.
While she would rather prefer not to be a corpse in a hobgoblin sack, she also does not have the heart to let any poor wanderers get into those sacks if she can help it.
Realizing she might evade most of the hobgoblins, the hounds are another thing completely, so she flaps her wings and takes to the air flying over the street chasm, unleashing 2 arrows from her bow there and shouting to the wanderers on the street:
Watch out, there are some more behind and in the ruined house and they have fiendish hounds! Get to safety!
Then she dashes over to the other side of the street chasm, bringing some space between the hobgoblins and herself, landing there.
Kana’s two arrows fired simultaneously from overhead fell enough of the hobgoblin soldiers that only one remains adjacent to Del, he is bloodied but standing resolutely.
Luanna is a bit slow to react to the attacks and has a moment of hesitation as she looks frantically at the groups of enemies besetting them. She grimaces as she sees Smitty fall and Stenson is hit by arrows.
She wants to cast a spell but fears the enemy will be upon them all before she can be ready to fight. She closes her eyes for a moment. Her form shifts and blurs and gets bigger as her weapons and gear seem to be absorbed into her. A moment later, where a petite elf stood now stands an eight foot grizzly bear rearing on its hind legs.
She snarls loudly moves toward the hell hound.
Slashing
Bludgeoning
Xulgag steadies his feet and begins laying into the hobgoblins.
Luanna's form morphs into that of a giant bear and she easily clambers up the embankment to close in melee with the hellhound on the roadside. Xulgag's already impressive physical stature becomes a little more rock steady and he marches up the embankment to the opposite side and swings into the group, hitting solidly on the first blow and bearing down even harder on the swing. Unfortunately the extra effort makes him just slightly off balance for the repeat attack, which clangs off of the foremost hobgoblin's shield. The two shield-bearers grunt at you and Valen in your dual assault against them. You suspect the archers on the following turn will likely abandon the ranged attacks and draw their blades on the following round.
The hellhound nexts to Luanna is late to get to the edge of the embankment and is surprised to be met by the lumbering form of the brown bear that meets it. In her bear form, Luanna's sensitive nostrils pick up the smell of brimstone and sulfur. You watch as the tendrils of smog are drawn into its mouth for a second before it exhales a cone of fire over you. Her sharpened senses help drive her to duck mostly out of the way of the cone, taking only 10 fire damage.
Valen begins his assault with the sword gripping it in both hands and swinging with a righteous fury. “You’ve made a very grave mistake here.”
Valen delivers two vital strikes against the squad, one of the hobgoblins sacrifices its shield to absorb some of the blow against it. The damage from the critical is negated, but its shield now hangs broken on its arm.
With most of the current hobgoblins taken care of at the moment, Sten spins and aims for the hellish hound that is bounding his way.
Hoping to drop the beast before it can get close to him, Sten calls upon his skill as an archer, and instead of nocking a single arrow, he takes two and fires both at the approaching beast. He quickly does this again, having a total of four arrows flying toward the hound.
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Stensan nocks arrow after arrow and looses it at the fiendish hound, each successive one finding its mark in vital areas of the creature.
The hobgoblin squad being pressed by Valen and Xulgag tries to make some room for themselves. Two of the legionnaires step forward to try and shove Valen backwards towards the edge of the road , although he's able to step to the side quickly enough to not be shoved backwards. As they step out of the way towards Valen, the remaining three drop their longbows, draw longswords in hand and take a rapid step forward towards Xulgag before striking out. They land several serious blows against him .
The lone hobgoblin remaining in the road is bleeding and panting from injury, but he raises his longsword menacingly towards Del and speaks in rough Common, "The tide of death is only just beginning to lap upon your shores. The Red Hand is coming, and Doom is all that remains for you." He raises his sword to slice at the guard. Del falls to the ground in his death throes, unable to bring his own weapon up in time to defend himself.
Over the shoulder of the severely wounded hound comes the two remaining squads in lockstep, longbows at the ready. They move with discipline, two in front with shields and 3 behind bearing longbows. Each lets out a volley of arrows at Stensan, seeing him vulnerable in the road and witnessing the accuracy of his shots. One volley completely misses the nimble half elf, the other meets him with a few of the haphazardly placed shots.
Moving up behind the fresh squads, you see a female legionnaire appear along with a robed figure with a holy symbol draping from his neck. The legionnaire sprints past the squads to get in melee range of Stensan. She strikes out three times in quick succession, twice with a longsword gripped in one hand and another with a shortsword gripped in her other. Only one of the longsword attacks meets.
The robed figure grips his holy symbol and speaks out in a non-Common language. A spectral multicolored series of scales appears to surround the legionnaire in a protective pattern.
Gliding on her wings Kana moves down to Stensan, drawing her whip and a throwing dagger.
She throws the dagger at the hobgoblin threatening Del, then tries to knock down the gladiator with her whip.
Gliding on her wings Kana moves down to Stensan, drawing her whip and a throwing dagger.
She throws the dagger at the hobgoblin threatening Del, then tries to knock down the gladiator with her whip.[dice=Throwing Dagger bonus action]1d20+8; 1d4+4d6
[dice=Whip knockdown DC17]1d20+8; 1d4+5
Kana flits over to the ground close to where Stensan is being assaulted by the bladebearer. She's distracted enough in her engagement with the half-elf to miss the tendril of the whip wrap around her leg and pull her off balance to the ground. Following that, Kana sends a throwing dagger tumbling through the air into the back of the hobgoblin that just felled the young guard. The point finds purchase and the soldier's eyes go dark right before it collapses to the ground next to Del's body.
Miha looks towards the advancing groups and turns to the rest of you. There is no panic in her face, although she does look very concerned about the number of enemies coming down the road. "We can't face that many of them at once! I'll try and slow them down!"
She speaks a few arcane words in Elven and you see an enormous matrix of thick webbing spring over the area of the two squads, the hellhound Stensan injured, as well as the priest. They all begin struggling through the webbing.
She looks back to the rest of you, "Hopefully it'll be enough time." She seems to be focusing on maintaining the spell.
Stensan is badly wounded in the middle of the road against the Hobgoblin Bladebearer (Legionnaire)
Valen, Kana, and Miha are untouched
The guards are dead.
Luanna lightly injured
Xulgag took a serious hit this round and is well past bloodied.
Each hellhound is badly injured by Stensan and the squad in melee with Valen and Xulgag is bloodied. The bladebearer is prone with a minor bruise to her rump from the fall.
Luanna growls again, showing her impressive line of sharp teeth. Then she tries to bring those teeth together around the throat of the hell hound.
Luanna’s mouth fills with the taste of sulfur and an internal heat as she clamps down on the weakened creatures throat. As she shakes her head and worries the fiendish creature about it goes limp. As it hits the ground it already begins to consume itself in a harmless hellsh flame.
After discarding the distasteful hound, Luanna shambles down the slope to a point due north of the web-ensnared group on the road and the priest beyond, but out of melee reach of the nearest enemies. She then draws on her connection to the plants to create a vine that springs out of the ground near the priest and attacks the priest.
In addition to the mass of sticky webbing that has blanketed the ground around the two fresh squads and the priest, a vine erupts from a nearby tree. The magically compelled plant snakes around the arms and torso of the priest, constricting him. His focus is shattered by the disruption, and the divine protection around the bladebearer falls.
He shouts in frustration, ”Your wild magics won’t save this region from being burned in the dragon mother’s divine wrath!!! We will scour it to the bare stones and rebuild it in her glory!”. He struggles again against the vines before giving up for the time being.
Xulgag reels from the impact of the assault against him. His booted feet dig in to the earth next to the edge of the elevated roadside and he attacks twice more with his longsword against the tightly regimented soldiers. The first attack breaks the squad apart, leaving only 2 single hobgoblin soldiers, resolutely standing back to back against the pincer of Valen and the orc.
The surviving hellhound struggles against the webbing that has covered it and the two uninjured squads. After failing to escape being trapped, it snaps back at the strands before inhaling and breathing a cone of flame over the webbing. It is uninjured, but its fiendish disregard for the remaining hobgoblins is evident as it singly focuses on escaping the webbing to get to the foe that injured it so badly. It is unable to escape this round, but the webbing will be gone in 1 round.
Valen goes to strike the blade glowing slightly as he does this time a wave of energy cutting out past the hobgoblin near him.
He then goes to backtrack trying to follow the fighting retreat.
The hobgoblin in front of Valen falls.
With the enemy's leader lying on the ground right in front of him, Sten swiftly brings the now staff up and with a whispered incantation brings the weapon down on the prone hobgoblin twice in quick succession.
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