[Gameday XII] R4i's Year of The Shadow Lodge (Core) (Inactive)

Game Master roll4initiative

This is a Core game of the Special. You'll dot in (and be sure to delete!) in this thread. Or, feel free to post an introduction and engage in roleplay with one another before we get started.

A hulking brute shows up early. Chest covered in a sturdy breastplate with a nasty sharp farming tool strapped to his back he looks quite dangerous. Especially those massive hands that each look like they could snap someone in half.

He has a resting scowl on his face, though it's hard to say if that is his normal expression or if something upset him recently.

Anyone else arriving (or already there) are met with a meaty paw offering a handshake and the simple introduction, "Lee-awn."

A small red-haired female halfling in a Mithral Chain Shirt armor and a small longsword on her hip comes walking towards you at a fast pace.
She is wearing a regular sized spell component pouch around her waist - and also an adorable little backpack on her back. When she sees Leon, she starts to smile brightly and marches over to greet him first.

"Leon! Good to see you! How are you? Did that deep rapier wound you got last time (during the Race for the Runecarved Key) leave any scars?"

Afterwards, the halfling starts shaking the hands of the other pathfinders, introducing herself.

"Hello, fellow pathfinders! My name is Corba... Corba Nana. This is my sixth mission! It's nice to meet you all!"

The brute looks a little confused, then starts moving garments and armor around to show various scars, "Dis wun? Mebbe dat wun? Dis udder wun? I tink ih wus mebbe on ma ches?"

Once the scar is found he smiles. Sorta. It isn't a nice smile. A little creepy. But it seems to be a valiant effort at a smile at least.

"Ya, ih heal gud. Cum-grats-lu-lash-uns onda six misshuns! I been on ah leas two."

"Ah, hello there." a tall, slender dark haired suntanned man stares in. He sports a shiny breast plate with a bow and arrow painted on its front and is dressed in travel clothes, worn but clean. A large mace hanging at his belt and a backpack stuffed with equipment rests in a hand.

"Am I late, then?" "Not sure what they have in mind for us with this summons." "I need the work, but I am training my new companion. He is young and does not know alot of tricks yet." "Hopefully he will just follow me around. He is pretty good at that art least."

He does a double take at the two agents in front of him. "Wait a minute, madame. You look familiar. Did we investigate the flooding archives together?" "I think I remember you, but forgive me, I am terrible with names." "Good to see you again and happy to work with you once more."

The man's knee surges in and the man stumbles foward slightly. A black furry, bear cub works its way into the the room squezing by the man's legs. "And this is Li'le Fella." "He is cranky as it is close to his dinner time."
"I hope this briefing does not take too long."

Common Knowledge: Nature: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (7) - 2 = 5

”Can ah pet da puppeh?”

"Yea, alright. Just don't feed him. He might not know where the food stops and your hand begins."
Lybram grabs Li'le Fella by the shoulder. "Calm now, Li'le Fella, calm."

"Yeah, I hear someone headed our way." "Wonder what they need us to do?" Lybram finds a seat and starts looking through his pack. After a short while he finds metal box. Opening it, he sets it in front of Li'le Fella, who begins to eat. A strong odor of fish seems to eminate from the area.
Lybram continues, "I just finished a task helping to drain the archives in the Grand lodge in Absolom. We had to solve riddles, talk to fish, and case down a disguised fox. What a mess that was!"

**House GM Announcement**

The City of Absalom is abuzz with excitement. The streets are full of revelers and feasting, as residents celebrate the city’s independence from tyranny. All seem most eager to witness the evening’s biggest event, the annual Passion of the First Siege of Absalom, where hundreds dress in elaborate costume, don fake armor and weaponry, and crowd the Irorium floor to participate in a mock combat, reenacting the first siege of Absalom. I suggest you do what you need to prepare yourselves and then get to the Irorium to find yourselves some seats.
______________

Table GMs, the Irorium gates are open. Please run the introduction and describe the setting while we are finishing mustering. Do not begin Act 1 until my announcement on the 4th.

Leon, Corba, and Lybram...

As the three of you make your way towards the Irorium, the bustling streets filled with revelers, a lean-faced man hiding behind a long cowl slips alongside.
“A moment of your time,” he says and pulls you aside into the shadows of a nearby alley. “It seems we have two things in common: an eagerness to participate in good celebration, and this…” He punctuates his sentence by holding out an elaborately carved wayfinder, the type only granted to Pathfinders of great importance. “I assure you, its mine,” he adds quickly, closing the device and tucking it back into the folds of his cloak with a quick, easy motion. Then he continues, “I know a good number of you are already planning to attend the festivities this evening. I need but a casual favor. An old associate of mine, Charvion Eater-of–Bones is set to make an elaborate display of some artifact he claims to have recovered. I’ve not had contact with him in a year or so, and I’ve a curious feeling about the event. More I cannot say; however, I’d appreciate you keeping an eye on whatever stunt he’s considering. He’s a natural charlatan that one. Just keep an eye out is all—nothing serious. Don’t let him know that you’re watching, and do not approach the artifact during the showing. Most importantly, tell no one of this conversation.”
With a wink, the mysterious stranger slips into the nearby crowd. He ducks into an alley, transforms into a small bird of prey, and flies off.

Mustering for the tables is still happening which is why I've only included those already "seated" at my table, i.e. engaged in roleplaying. Feel free to chat amongst yourselves as you make your way to the Irorium. Any newcomers may introduce themselves as you all continue to file into the Irorium.

"That was very strange. How did he know us as pathfinders? Theoretically we are not even on the clock so to speak. Weird and Wow!" Lybram closes his open mouth at the overt show of power.

Lybram keeps a close watch on Li'le Fella. "This crowd is not ideal for him, but is a good test of his training."

From behind the trio, a half-orc emerges from the edge of the crowd. He's fairly handsome, if you don't mind green skin and pronounced canines. "That was unusual. I happened to overhear that last bit." He pauses and shows his own (rather less ornate) wayfinder. "Do you need any help?"

"We never refuse help, but we just require your company to watch the reinactment. We are off duty, now, I think. Please join us. I am Lybram Tendras, and this is Corba, and Leon you can't miss." Lybram welcomes the newcomer to the group.

"Dad told me that powerful strangers offering cryptic directions are almost always omens of some sort of trouble. So you might be right, but...." He shrugs. "Raknir. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

Leon grunts, ”Trubbah no itchu, jus punchit.”

His own basic wayfinder hangs from a thick chain around his neck, perhaps a clue as to why he was easily identified as a pathfinder.

Irorium Layout (Exits and Seating)
The Irorium has five public entrances, the main gate and four side gates. A sixth gate to the south is a work entrance reserved for gladiators, arena workers, and other performers.
Main Gate: The main gates face north. On the mezzanine level, a 20-foot-wide stone arch opens onto an equally wide marble stairwell that descends out onto the street. The stairwell corridor is 300 feet long. At street level, the corridor can be barricaded with a pair of barred iron gates.
Side Gates: There are four side exits, all connected to the mezzanine level. Each exit leads through a 20-foot- wide stone arch that opens to an equally wide marble stairwell, which in turn descends out onto the street. On the mezzanine level, the stairwell corridor is 300 feet long. The upper level stairwells are 500 feet long. At the street level, the corridor can be barricaded with a pair of barred iron gates.
Service Exit: The service exit is located on the arena floor, just behind the makeshift stage. Only Irorium workers and performers are permitted to use it; anyone attempting to pass through the doors without permits is denied. All would-be trespassers are sent off by a platoon of surly guards. Beyond the entrance, a main passage connects to side chambers used by gladiators and arena workers. All creatures, gladiators, workers, and others involved with events use this route to gain access to the arena floor.

The Irorium has four seating levels. To avoid undue attention, the Society has provided the PCs with seats according to their stature, based on the group’s Tier status. The highest tier is proved with field level tickets. The remaining Tiers are provided with mezzanine level seats. Those with field tickets may sit anywhere. Those with mezzanine seats are permitted to sit anywhere in mezzanine or the three levels above. There are no specific assigned seats; seating is general and all seating consists of stone or wooden bleachers.
Field Seats: These seats are on the lowest level, closest to the ring. They are reserved for important and wealthy attendees. Field seats are accessible by descending staircases from the mezzanine level.
The Mezzanine: This level sits just above the field seats, though it is entirely separated from them. The mezzanine has a slight overhang that extends over the last two rows of field seats. These seats are open to the general public; however, they cost a couple of gold pieces apiece (depending upon the event), and thus their occupants tend to be middle and upper class citizens. The mezzanine is the central hub of the Irorium, providing access to all other levels as well as most of the exits. It connects to five of the Irorium’s exits: the main gate and the four side exits. From the mezzanine, several sets of stairs climb to the upper levels as well as descend to the field seats.
Terrace: The Terrace consists entirely of open-air stone bleachers carved into the structure of the Irorium. The view of the field is still good enough to observe events. A terrace seat usually costs a few silvers. Stairs from the mezzanine provide access to the terrace.
Grandstands: This level consists of rickety wooden bleachers. Seats cost a few coppers, or are sometimes free, depending on the event. Stairs from the Terrace provide access to the grandstands.
The Ledge: The top level of the Irorium is a broad, 15-foot-wide railed ledge that encircles the entire arena. It is so far away from the arena floor that it provides only a pitiful view of events below. Stairs from the grandstands provide access to the ledge.

"Ah, hello there." (...) He does a double take at the two agents in front of him. "Wait a minute, madame. You look familiar. Did we investigate the flooding archives together?" "I think I remember you, but forgive me, I am terrible with names." "Good to see you again and happy to work with you once more."

"Hello, hello!"

Corba offers a hand to the man, still smiling. But when he mentiones flooding archives, the halfling shakes her head.

"I think you are mistaken, I wasn't near any archives in the last weeks... and certainly not in Absalom! Had to sail to Katapesh and investigate why a small town called Mercy - which is a few days travel from Alkenstar into the mana wastes - was able to withstand a manastorm."

The man's knee surges in and the man stumbles foward slightly. A black furry, bear cub works its way into the the room squezing by the man's legs. "And this is Li'le Fella." "He is cranky as it is close to his dinner time."

"I hope this briefing does not take too long."

"Hi, Li'le Fella! You look like a good boy! May I introduce you to my riding dog? Rocky, come here!"

CHA check (instead of Handle Animal): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

She tries to get the dog with saddle and saddlebags who is currently taking a nap thirty feet away to get up and come to her. But the dog just opens one eye, yawns and closes his eye again.

"He's not listening - again! Rocky! ROCKY!!! Bad dog!" Corba sighs deeply. "I think I need to take a few lessons in how to handle animals..."

After the encounter with the mysterious stranger - and at least one successful CHA-check ;-)

"That was indeed strange... Does anyone know who that man was?"

"Hello, Raknir. My name is Corba... Corba Nana. It's a pleasure to meet you, too! Yeah, I'm sure, you're dad was right. Last time I was involved with an artifact, that bloody thing was stolen right under our noses. Luckily we got it back, breaking a few cultist skulls in the process. So let's keep an eye out for trouble..."

After the encounter with the mysterious stranger - and at least one successful CHA-check ;-)

"That was indeed strange... Does anyone know who that man was?"

"The name's Osprey!" the little bird calls out as it swoops past before disappearing in the distance.

Filing into the Irorium with hundreds of other pathfinders and spectators, you make your way to the mezzanine for some good seats.

Just waiting for the Overseer GM to start Act 1.

Leon wanders in with the crowd, unintentionally making space with his bulk and muscle creating natural separation. He hands a ticket over and follows the pointed directions, fortunately finding Corba waving him over.

He sits down with a flump and points to the service gate, ”Use datwon cuplah times. Paid fights, good monehs. No killin, jes beatin on uddah brutes.”

"Heel, Li'le Fella, stay close." Lybram follows Leon, moving in the wake he creates, Li'le Fella right on his left side.

As they take their seats after surrendering tickets, "I didn't know you worked as a gladiator. Well, I did not know you before today, so that is not special. But I don't think I know anyone else who worked as a gladiator." Lybram shudders a little. "Seems like a hard way to make a living with a high injury potential." "I thought I had it bad as a woodcutter." "I would take a falling tree over being bludgeoned unconscious any day." He looks at Leon with a little bit of awe. "Glad you are on our side then."

**House GM Announcement**

"Welcome to Absalom!" The MC's voice, magically enhanced, booms throughout the arena. "On this glorious eve we gather again in celebration of our wonderful city and its freedom from tyranny. We present to you all—the Passion of the First Siege of Absalom! A performance great and terrible, reenacting Absalom’s victorious slaughter of Warlord Voradni Voon’s troops upon the city’s rocky shores. As the highlight of this year's performance, directly following the Passion, the Pathfinder Society has generously agreed to a public unveiling of its latest acquisition, a terrifying device dredged from ancient ruins in the Mwangi Expanse. And now, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The performance is about to begin."

The Passion is long, tediously so, though the rowdy crowds more than entertain themselves, booing and cheering the performers and throwing rotten cabbages. In all, it turns out to be a fine afternoon of celebration.

Following the performance, a large stage is wheeled in to the west side of the Irorium. The stage is covered with a large curtain. Beneath is a scaled set of a ruin and in the center stands a bizarre, cage-like structure of weathered metal covered with strange runes and other ornate etchings. A man who fits the description of the Pathfinder known as Charvion Eater-of-Bones stands next to the cage.

"Good evening, friends! On this auspicious night I present to you an incredible spectacle, the type of which you have never seen before. From the darkest jungles of Mwangi, I have procured an ancient device, an artifact capable of ripping through the very cloth of our reality!"

Charvion touches something on the cage, and it falls open, slowly unfolding like a blossoming flower. He steps inside, and the cage begins to close around him, crackling with swirling tendrils of mystic, silvery ether. In an ominous and unearthly voice he bellows, "I am now fused to the ethereal plane—the realm of ghosts! Ask me what you will, and the dead shall answer through me! But be wary of what you seek, for you may not like the answers."
______________

GMs you have one day for the crowd to ask questions of the spirits through Charvion.

"I am now fused to the ethereal plane—the realm of ghosts! Ask me what you will, and the dead shall answer through me! But be wary of what you seek, for you may not like the answers."

With hundreds of spectators shouting out questions, It's difficult for Charvion to get to everyone in turn.

At most, he'll be able to take one question from each one of you.

Ask away! The spirits are listening!

"(...) upon the city’s rocky shores. (...)"

"No, Rocky, they didn't call you into the arena! Stay put!"

CHA check (instead of Handle Animal): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

This time the riding dog obeys. "Good boy!"

Corba shouts at Charvion: "Ask my granny where she hid her cook book!"

She then explains to her fellow pathfinders: "I really miss her 'secret ingredient stew'..."

Corba shouts at Charvion: "Ask my granny where she hid her cook book!"

She then explains to her fellow pathfinders: "I really miss her 'secret ingredient stew'..."

"Seek the hearth's secret song, where flames dance in twilight's embrace. The pages whisper amidst warmth and spice, in the heart of ancestral space."

Leon thinks for a moment. Well, a while. And then his mouth gets dry and he blurts out, ”WHERE DA BEST ALE IN TOWN?”

Leon thinks for a moment. Well, a while. And then his mouth gets dry and he blurts out, ”WHERE DA BEST ALE IN TOWN?”

"Seek the alley's shadowed bend, where laughter roars and mugs collide. Within the heart of Absalom's pulse, the finest ale shall there reside."

"I have no idea what to ask ..." Lybram pauses to think. Then he blurts out, "Why did Aroden die, and what happened to him?" Lybram whispers to the others, "But ghosts probably would not know that answer."

Lybram prompts the group to see if anyone has a good question. But he also keeps an eye on Charvion.
perception to notice anything weird with the show: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

"I have no idea what to ask ..." Lybram pauses to think. Then he blurts out, "Why did Aroden die, and what happened to him?" Lybram whispers to the others, "But ghosts probably would not know that answer."

Lybram prompts the group to see if anyone has a good question. But he also keeps an eye on Charvion.

"Aroden's fate, a cosmic sigh, a tragic end in the azure sky. The Starstone fell, the gods did weep, secrets in depths, their silence keep. A mystery veiled, a hero's fall, his purpose lost, destiny's call. In silence now, his power wanes, his truth concealed, his name retains!"

You do not notice anything unusual among the crowd of spectators or down in the arena.

The half-orc pauses, considering possible questions, before asking, "What is the airspeed of an unladen swallow?" "How can the orcs of Belkzen be kept out of Lastwall?"

The half-orc pauses, considering possible questions, before asking, "How can the orcs of Belkzen be kept out of Lastwall?"

"Forge alliances in twilight's shade, unite the realms, their trust persuade. Walls of unity, stronger than stone, diplomacy's grace, the future is known. Offer peace as a shield, not a sword's advance, and Lastwall's borders may stand a chance."

Haha! Nice one on the unladen swallow. ;)

**House GM Announcement**

A low, droning horn suddenly rises over the cacophonous throng. Soon after, it is joined by a second horn, then a third, then dozens. A moment later, the more perceptive spectators notice small black dots appear on the horizon.

A massive black dragon dives through the center of the Irorium, spewing gouts of acid onto the arena floor. She heads straight for the small stage where Charvion stands within the cage. Striking with both claws, she plucks the artifact free from the base, shattering the stage and sending remnants of the mock ruins everywhere. The creature lifts into the air, with Charvion clinging to the bars and screaming in terror. The great beast continues her flight, winging off toward the Grand Lodge. A few short moments later, rattling explosions shake the city, and a shimmering column of pale, silvery light shoots up out of the grounds of the Grand Lodge and into the night sky.
______________

GMs, please begin the Dragon Attack encounter.

Leon raises an eyebrow, ”Dis parta da show?”

Dragon Attack!

Barely moments after the black dragon's audacious heist, a horde of additional dragons descends. On their backs, they carry small bands of goblins, who, upon landing, swiftly dismount and launch into a frenzied assault. Many of the goblins' graceless dismounts range from clumsy falls to bone-breaking jumps, leaving some writhing in pain amid the arena's chaos.

Above, black dragons soar menacingly, spewing acid and plunging into the terrified crowd at intervals, their mere presence fueling terror. Bands of goblins patrol the Irorium, wildly slashing at the frenzied masses, their screams blending with the mayhem, blocking exits, and sowing chaos at every turn.

Leon suddenly realizes that this isn't part of the show.

The Irorium is under attack! You run down to the floor of the arena to fight off the goblins as black dragons soar overhead or descend to fight other Pathfinders.

Place yourselves anywhere on the arena floor on Slide 2. You do not need to place yourselves together. It is chaos in the arena as Pathfinders run down to the floor and spectators race to the exits. There are dozens of other Pathfinders engaging in combat –many against black dragons– on the arena floor as well (but "off-screen", in a sense). I'll get initiative rolling later today.

Leon moves to the middle of the arena and tries to get the goblins’ attention, ”HEY LITTEH BUGGAHS! BRING IT AWN!!!”

I’m assuming we don’t really have time to prep or cast or activate anything pre-initiative, right?

I’m assuming we don’t really have time to prep or cast or activate anything pre-initiative, right?

Correct. Following Leon's lead, everyone may place their icons anywhere within the four columns in the center of the arena.

Three goblins dismounting a dragon notice your approach as you dart to the center of the arena floor. They snarl and snicker at you as they draw their weapons and move to attack. One goblin, a mean looking one with gray skin, pulls out a bow.
You're not fighting the dragons on the map. I put those there to give a sense of danger. The higher tiers are fighting dragons, though!

Combat Tracker (round 1). Bold may act!
Raknir
Lybram
Leon
Goblins
Corba

Leon taps a potion hanging on his belt thinking for a second. He grumbles, ”Big good but… easier fer dragons ta hit.”

Instead, he rushes the one on the left while drawing his scythe, ”I gaw dis wun!”

Move 30ft, Attack

MW Scythe: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23 for Slashing: 2d4 + 7 ⇒ (1, 3) + 7 = 11

Raknir calls up arcane power to protect himself, then steps to cover as he draws his falchion.

Casting mage armor.

Leon slices the goblin clean in half. The upper torso makes a sickening slurp sound as it slides from the lower half. Both halves then collapse to the ground in a pool of blood.

Raknir puts up a protective ward of force around him.

Lybram is up!

”Rocky, come with me!” Corba follows Leon to the arena as fast as she can.

Placed my tokens. I assume Corba did not mount her riding dog yet.

Lybram will cast bless on the group. +1 to attack rolls, and saves against fear.
"stay close Li'le Fella, heel"

Yes, Corba, you can be mounted upon your great steed as you run down from the bleachers!

Witnessing his comrade get sliced in two, the goblin archer tosses his bow aside and runs up to Leon while drawing his blade. He jabs the blade into Leon's belly...
short sword: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
piercing: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Ouch!

The other goblin, laughing maniacally, also runs up to Leon and hacks at the brawler's knee.
short sword: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
piercing: 1d4 ⇒ 3
A wild swing that misses!

Combat Tracker (round & 2). Corba & everyone may act! Bless is active (+1 atk & fear saves)!
Raknir:
Lybram:
Leon: -6 hp
Goblins:
Corba:

Corba starts a bardic performance.

"Once upon a time there was a king..."

CHA check (instead of Handle Animal): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7 :-/

She then rides forward tries to ride forward on her "great" steed.

Inspire Courage: +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects, +1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls (the latter stacks with bless).

The brute grunts as he swings away at the one who stabbed him, ”So wha happen to da king?” Then steps to the side, his injury not seeming to bother him.

Attack, 5-ft.

MW Scythe + Bless + IC: 1d20 + 9 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 1 + 1 = 17 for Slashing + IC: 2d4 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (2, 1) + 7 + 1 = 11

The slides map isn’t updating for me. I’ll check back later, but basically Leon just wants to use his 5-ft to step out of possible flanking or teammate’s charging lanes if any of that applies.

I believe one of the goblins is probably dead from Leons scythe. Lybram will move 20' while pulling out his heavy mace, Li'le Fella following, and swing at green. If green is dead he will double move into the flank with Leon.
Lybram strides forward and swings his mace. mace swing: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
damage B: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

I believe one of the goblins is probably dead from Leons scythe. Lybram will move 20' while pulling out his heavy mace, Li'le Fella following, and swing at green. If green is dead he will double move into the flank with Leon.

As mentioned above, yes, that goblin is way dead. It is also indicated on the map by a big red splotch representing blood. Green hasn't been attacked by anyone, so you're good to go. (Nice hit, btw).

Raknir is up!

The half-orc abandons magic and strides into melee, cutting at the wounded green-clad goblin.

Falchion vs. green goblin, incl. bless and ic: 1d20 + 2 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 2 + 1 + 1 = 22
Confirm crit: 1d20 + 2 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 2 + 1 + 1 = 14

Probably not.

Falchion damage, incl. ic: 2d4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (3, 4) + 1 + 1 = 9

Corba, the valiant storyteller, weaves heroic tales to embolden her teammates.

Lybram moves forward, and with a spin of his mace, gives the goblin in green a good bonk on the head. The goblin staggers in disorientation, his head wound oozing blood.

Raknir strides forth and brings his falchion down on the green-garbed goblin. The blade smashes through the goblin's flimsy shield and slices deep into the little creature's chest. The goblin gurgles and chokes on its own blood before dropping dead. (Not a crit, but good damage, though.)

Leon, unfazed by the stab wound in his gut, swings his scythe in a vicious arc, slashing into the goblin's chest. The goblin grimaces in agony, yet stubbornly clings to life, proving to be a formidable adversary.

The grey-skinned (blue) goblin pulls the shield strung to his back and hoists it in front of him. He then thrusts his sword again into Leon's abdomen.
short sword: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
piercing: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Missing his mark, he hops backwards a few feet to assess the situation and snarls defiantly.

Black dragons continue to circle overhead, some occasionally landing to unload teams of frenzied goblins, others raining down acidic spray. The Irorium has transformed into a sprawling battlefield, where scores of Pathfinders valiantly fend off hordes of goblins and formidable dragons.

Combat Tracker (round 2). Pathfinders may act! Bless & Inspire Courage is active (+2 atk, +1 damage, & fear saves)!
Corba:
Raknir:
Lybram:
Leon: -6 hp
Blue Goblin: -11 hp
Green Goblin: dead
Red Goblin: dead