Sorry all.. crazy hours at work, and preparing for wedding.
As always, should have clued you in sooner, but kept thinking I'd be able to post update "after I get through today... "
Stricia:
good tone (re audio), levels, elocution, etc... Intelligent thoughts, and stated well.
Your hem and haw hesitancy at times, and somber tone (understandable due to the nature of your topic) slowed things a bit, but I'm sure with other topics your cadence/pace will be fine.
Stricia comes rushing through the gate, and slugs the monstrous dog in the neck - the side mad snarling at Erodel with his blood on its fangs. You see the feral rage in its eyes as it recovers from the blow.
Zabeth screws up her courage, and steps into the room.
perception:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Frank:
>Minor Shape Change (Su): All changelings have the ability to transform
themselves at will. This ability is similar to Alter Self with the
following exceptions.
This ability is a supernatural ability, akin to a lycanthrope's
shapechange, and thus, it is not subject to dispelling.
Using this ability is a full round action that does not provoke
attacks of opportunity.
While this ability does not affect clothing or gear, it does effect
the tactile, olfactory and audible aspects the new form, thus granting
a +10 circumstance bonus to Disguise checks.
This ability does allow changelings to appear as specific people,
including those of other genders.
This ability does not grant any new abilities or movement rates.
Likewise, this ability does not allow the changeling to change its size
category.
It lasts for as long as the changeling desires, even if unconscious
or sleeping (although changelings do revert back to their natural form
upon death).
Anything that can see through or acts on a shapechanger's alternate
forms applies to a changeling in the same manor.
Changelings with grievous physical wounds (lost eye, severed hand,
etc) cannot disguise that injury regardless of their form, nor can a
changeling mimic such an injury intentionally.
Pleased that her abilities are seen as useful rather than freakish - to which she had been more accustomed, Zabeth nods and smiles warmly at Gauntlet.
"I will."
She studies his features and garb for a moment.
"What do we do with this one now?"
As she looks down upon the man, her visage, clothing, and form morph to match his.
DM:
I am activating a minute of Tongues hex just in case he has anything more to say. (I'd forgotten I had picked that up)
After flashing a wink and grin at Frank...
Zabeth's voice is unchanged as she answers Gauntlet - still wearing the dead man's face.
"I can do it whenever and for however long I wish... though it grows more difficult to be precise the more time passes since studying the face."
Dev is correct.. I’d thought it was castings by same caster, but now that I read it, it’s by anyone
Zabeth grumbles and shakes her head as she gets to her feet.
“I apologize.. it can’t be done so soon after another has spoken with the deceased.”
"A freedom fighter and tea merchant! Ha! You have won my heart, good fellow." He raises his tea cup.. "For me.. it must be pungent and distinctive. If it does not require my palate to adapt, it is not worth my time. This... is from Qadira.. it translates to Harpy Claw... its quite peppery with an earthy musk.. Marquel says it smells of soggy boots and radishes." He smiles in the memory for a moment, which begins to turn toward forlorn until Idril speaks up.
"The reason is.. I would like this favor done well.. successfully and - hopefully - discreet. I would not like to hear about his father or some chambermaid gravely wounded or worse should they get in the way. You've been given words of high repute from a man who is hard to please. And as I've seen myself, you are not quick to lash out against provocation."
Idril:
You do not detect any ill intent.
His demeanor is not a facade exactly - you would guess it to be his normal personality when he is in good spirits, however he is more angry and depressed than he is letting on.
Level up. You are spending the night in the hidden shrine of St Senex. And presumably, heading to the ruins of the Lucky Bones gambling hall, and to the sealed chambers hidden underneath.
Stricia - With your Crane Style feats...
--Fighting defensively--
to hit penalty reduced to -2
+5 total dodge bonus to AC vs melee attacks
+1 total dodge bonus to AC vs non-melee attacks
(if attacker misses by 4 or less, you lose the +4 dodge bonus vs melee)
and an (untyped?) +2 to AC (edit: I see now it is a dodge bonus)
--Total Defense--
+5 total dodge bonus to AC vs all attacks
deflect one melee attack that would normally hit you
So yeah...
Fighting defensively would grant a +7 AC vs melee, +3 vs ranged.
If an attack misses by 4 or less, you receive only +3 AC for the remainder of the round.
Total Defense grants only +5AC, but does not reduce... plus the deflection.
That is pretty much what you said, so short answer.. yes.. correct.
Zabeth gestures, and murmurs, then touches her lips. She then makes guttural and snarling sounds - a strange contrast to her soothing demeanor - seemingly speaking with the wolves.
(Speak with Animals)
"We will free you, and lead you to your pack. Do not attack us. Agreed?"
Male Halfling psion (nomad)/rogue (cutpurse+scout) 6 / elocater 2 / trickster 3 W 46 V 152/152 ~ AC44 tch36 ff25 ~ F+13 R+22 W+17 ~ CMD33; Init+29 Per+25; spot traps within 10' d20+29
After the colossal beast snatches Jimbli out of the air in its maw, Jimbli grimaces, then wags a finger "No no! No bite!" The illusory halfling dissipates while the real Jimbli appears twenty feet further away.
(spending Mythic Point to use Mirror Dodge mythic feat as an immediate action)
Zabeth opens her eyes, and stands.
"Time to join them?"
She resists the impulse to comment on the combined scent of her sweaty and battle-worn companions in the tight quarters.
Aye.. you got it. My family’s church has a sort of partnership with the Uqbah Masjid Foundation in Cleveland... several joint community functions for men and women’s groups.
“Not to think alike but to walk together” is the church credo.
I really think there is more love and acceptance than hate out there.. it’s just that the hate makes more noise.
With her face contorted in rage, Varia steps back, and - using her whole body - brings her polearm down with so much force her feet leave the ground. Her blade cleaves halfway through the lemure’s mass. It winks out of existence a moment later like a crumpled wad of flash paper set alight.
raging blessed ranseur:1d20 + 7 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 7 + 2 + 1 = 30 confirm:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15 4d4 + 14 ⇒ (3, 1, 2, 3) + 14 = 23
Nox is caught switching her grip to deal with the close-quarter attackers when Bastargrae’s dagger gouges her cheek. She reflexively flinches just as Erodel swings. His blade doesn’t cut, but catches her hard in the lower ribs. She makes a loud wheezing sound as the air is knocked from her lungs. Both of Stricia’s strikes connect.. blood gushes from Nox’s wrist and the back of her neck. The flow of blood slows, and the cut on her cheek closes within seconds.
Zabeth enters and gives the room a cursory scan, before joining Frank at the edge of the hole. She peers down, then moves over by the goblin corpses.
"Hmm... Recent battle?" As she squats down, her pot-bellied blue bird flits from her shoulder and lands on the head of one of the fallen goblins... and lightly pecks a couple times at its temple.
heal check to determine how long they've been dead:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Zabeth pats Frank's shoulder and steps up with a warm smile.
"Come now... no such tricks are necessary. It is clear there is no love here for Nym." She bows her head slightly to the goblin "Yes, we are looking for Nym, but Nym is no friend of ours. I have a couple gold for you if you could tell us where to find him."
“Very good.. lead on.” Zabeth curtsies farewell to Mickey before turning to follow.
“So.. it seems we need to be deceptive in order to glean his whereabouts from those in the Rat’s Market. Then.. we are to employ intimidation with Nym. Any among us particularly skilled in those two endeavors? Deception and intimidation that is....”
She then adds “I myself am fairly capable in telling a convincing lie, but if anyone else feels equally up to task....”
A middle-aged woman in flowing red, black, and silver silk robes with a serene smile bows her head in greeting.
She introduces herself with a slightly theatrical demeanor...
"I am Zabeth... healer, prognosticator... I often serve as a liaison.. an intermediary between those of the spirit world and our own." Her silver bracelets clink as she gesticulates, and a pot-bellied dark blue bird flits over onto her shoulder. "While I may not have a great deal of experience as an adventurer-for-hire, I am quite confident my talents be of use."
The bird on her shoulder chirps, then speaks with a delicate lilting voice... "Me too."
Chumbo and Grutty Jaynes surrendered. After you discovered they were being coerced by and returning to the Spidertear gang with the pearls they'd plundered, you went with them to Hell Harbor to take out Ilvagret and her followers.
I'll update tonight after work... keyboard died wednesday, and "typing" with cut and paste was too tiresome.
Held fast momentarily, Morgar blubbers "I-I-I'm sorry.. I didn't.. I was just...."
Bastargrae rushes up and swings at him again, but misses.
Idril's scarf has no visible effect on the hellknight - who turns and runs back through the secret door and out of sight, squealing "Aieee! Rats!" in a voice suspiciously similar to Vendalfek's.
The rat swarm swims closer, and the piping continues.
You cross the Thorn River and continue through the woods. The number of evergreens is far fewer. The deciduous trees litter the ground with the full range of fall colors - fresh fallen leaves vibrant in contrast to those that have already turned brown underneath. Busy squirrels wait until you're nearly upon them to scatter.
With the map and Balter's sense of direction, the journey from your initial heading to the temple is without a wasted step. You smell the campfire, then see the rise and the elk skull carved in the stone face looming over the clearing.
Jhod is there tending to the fire near the foot of the statue of Erastil on the side opposite the fifty-foot long reflecting pool. The crumbling steps leading into the cave have been patched with mortar and stone, and the overgrown flora has been pruned back with artful appeal.
Tyg-Titter-Tut.. still sulking... "Good to see you he says, and yet I see no sparklies or baubles."
Perlivash chides the grig... "Now now, Tyg-Titter, pretty please do not pout
Gifting's not all that friendship's about.
This Vladimir here was kind enough to say hi,
We can't expect gifts every time he comes by.
Moreover, more trinkets to add to the rest,
would lead to us needing a much bigger nest."
Tyg-Titter-Tut sighs, and explains... "He's been rhyming like that since the other red-hair you brought."
"You're saying you're going where the Elk-head and the old man are?" She nods... "Yeah.. we know it. We like to go there and rile him up."
Perlivash winks... "Little helps more when Tyg-Titter is blue,
than watching Jhod step in illusions of poo."
The Thorn River is about 50 feet wide here. From what you can see (upriver and down), much of the bank is covered by bramble bushes. This particular spot, however, is not.
we can move on whenever... DC15 swim is the standard to cross.
If you are able to cross fairly quickly, you can get to the Temple by nightfall. If you decide to go the bridge, you will get to the bridge around nightfall.
One guard speaks.. the others say nothing to quiet him.
"Prisoners are locked up in a room beyond that door. Kossrani's got the key, but seems locked doors don't stop you. Free 'em and go... if you're quiet, you won't see any more guards." His voice takes on a sardonic lilt "No one else needs to get hurt."
"But you're wrong... I am devoted to Paracount Thrune." He looks down to his Asmodean amulet "Kintargo will no longer be a disgrace to Cheliax."
The other three guards nod resolutely in agreement.
The guard growls and scowls as he throws his weapon to the ground.
He glares at Asha who'd made him unable to attack..."Hardly have a choice, have I, Vextress?"
Estietre tromps through the sand around Sharpmaw, and fires frost... unbalanced.
After missing, she checks her finger for crookedness.. to account for the poor aim. "I'll try a different finger next time!", she states without providing context.
ray of frost vs green in melee:1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (4) + 2 - 4 = 2
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
As you are inspecting the first cloak, Rexus leans over and runs his finger along the inside of the collar where the stitching is "needlessly" complex. "Protective qualities.. likely enhance the wearer's natural resistances.", and winks.
+1 Leather armor
failed roll (+1 cloak of resistance)
cloak of elvenkind
Figurines of wondrous power (raven)
The coffer contains a stack of documents (hundreds of pages), and a few scrolls.
The documents are incomprehensible... in several different languages. Asha and Idril recognize a few elven words, but it's not enough to gain any meaning.
Rexus hmmpfs "This.. will take some time to decipher... I even see some Strix in there. Luckily, I am quite certain that I am up for the task."
He points to Erodel "Good point.. there may be some still around."
Rexus can barely contain himself.. "You bet your sweet.. cane they do! Ha!" he halts his happy dance... "And there they stood.. the six adventurers.. behold... artifacts of the covert organization... the Silver Ravens, and their number the same? Fate! Fate is on our side! Ha!"
It'd been a rough couple weeks for Chumbo and his gang. It started late one night in their "winding down" watering hole in Hell's Harbor where he'd inadvertently helped himself to a handful of the wrong rump. How was he to know from behind it was Ilvagret, the witch of the Spidertear Gang?
He and his mates were soon under her command.. and infected with a geas curse not long after. Chumbo was slowly rotting... if they do not return with their plunder.. the amethyst pearls within the next five days, he'll pass from living to undeath. Not to say it could not be said by some that he and his amoral mates did not deserve such a fate.
Most of his gang had been captured and tortured by the natives.. they had nearly gotten away with the village's offering to their so called protector, oppressor, and hateful god.. in the natives' eyes.
This morning.. free again from the natives.. pearls enough to fulfill the geas, they've found a place to recover before making their journey back to Hell's Harbor. The fool pigpigeon farmer thought he could turn them away. Heh. "What is it with the idle aged and whack-a-doos with their fondness of birds?" Chumbo thought to himself as the farmer cow-towed under threat of plucking his prized plump goofy-beaked duck.
Now.. one more obstacle. "Pirates? .. privateers and a hermit? odd bunch is all I can say."
Rifleman Brindlebeard, and "Ham-Hands" Grutty Jaynes went out to post up on the pavilion. Chumbo chuckled to himself... he'd felt miserable for so long... the rush of coming battle made his worn and threshed mind go giddy. "It's on..."
Rexus bows his head acknowledging Erodel willingness...
"Excellent... thank you."
He gives Idril two thumbs up...
"Smelly.. but thrilling, I'm sure of it!"
He smiles, shrugs off thoughts of convincing Asha otherwise... "We've only just met, and I already admire you.", and bows his head in gratitude.
His hands reflexively give chase to the bracers for a moment, he then smiles awkwardly and shrugs.
"I suppose.. show of good faith... You are then well aware they will do nothing for you.. when you are already wearing armor." he puts the coffer back in his satchel. "Would be best to decide how we might dole this out after we search the livery, yes?"
He turns to Indio...
"May we count you among us?" his words sound cliche to him as he speaks them, so he doubles down.. and asks with a dramatic delivery... "What say you? High adventure, and Fair Fortune awaits!"
The thug facing off against Erodel and Indiro reels from the blow. He takes a couple steps back, and takes a defensive stance. He risks a quick glance toward his nearby comrade. "Ignore him! Gnome with a %^$@ hatpin!? Get up here!"
The scolded thug growls as he stoops to scoot the tea merchant back as he advance to his comrade's side. "Move it... poke me again, and I stuff you in a sack."
another AoO for Bgrae
bull rush:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
The Chelish reinforcements move closer... Black-eye veers to get a better view of the alley before getting too close... Limper overworks his uninjured appendages to keep up. "Done pullin punches..." Black eye's statement sounds as though they intend to engage.
The man you'd just rescued drinks his flask, and moves up by Idril. As he settles into a stance..
"Name's Rexus... pleasure to meet you." introduces himself with a quick nod and unworried grin to Idril.
1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Round 4
Asha, Bastargrae, Erodel, Idril up
Then Indiro, then thugs
"Your minds were not meant for such things, and your souls have been torn in two... insignificant flutter to the multiverse. Planets have died, primate... races extinguished from this theft, from this meddling with time and extraplanar space." It moves to the side of its construct.. apparently just about ready to hop in.
what just happened:
other than too many "Easter" cranberry vodkas last night.
When Sunny said you hadn't stolen anything, the Leng creature scanned her memories, then did the same with the rest of you. When he saw you'd been with Holfstedt Moranni, he was about to say something like "you were with Moranni, but you are not a follower? ... you do not bear his sign."
However, the Leng creature found poorly erased memories.. the moment before you were sent to the dreamspun world. In that memory Holfstedt and Doyle implicated themselves. They were selling the dream machines to the ultra-rich and to powerful factions. Once the denizens of Leng discovered the technology was on Golarion, and showed up with guns blazing, Holfstedt apparently handed over the list of the dream machine buyers... without mentioning he was the buyers' source.
These buyers have been using the dream machines to enter Feyeater's Retreat. Some exist as "phantoms" (to do things like months of arcane research or tinkering in one night of sleep), some inhabit clones.. such as the monks you fought who were abducting KO'd Volksfelt soldiers (for biomass).
You still don't know why Doyle and Holfstedt sent you.
You do know where in Golarion most of these buyers are (which I can repost if you care to go to them)
Or you could try to track down Holfstedt Moranni... go to nearest towns and gather info maybe?
Or we can stall this thread.. hang out in Turtleback Ferry until your dream selves make it back to you.
(Whitewillow, Ilsurian, Pendaka, Turtleback, Sipplerose... are the nearest settlements. All are within 50 miles)
Within Shayonna's Waters...
The party discovered she'd taken over a tomb to an ancient priest named Haestrundt. The walls of the unholy place contained carvings similar to those found in the Shiv's Azlanti temple. They instruct those able to comprehend them, how to perform various rituals... (such as the disembodied and zombified hand, and turning humans into merfolk.)
Though the Coralmancer who'd held fast your ship was killed, the deeper chambers are unexplored, and Shayonna still lives.
The Spidertear pirates who'd stolen the Azlanti notes and other discoveries had just been to visit Shayonna... they'd delivered captured innocents.. it is not known what other business was conducted.
The party knows the Spidertear base is in Greenblood in the Sodden Lands. They also know Tazion (in the Mwangi Expanse) is the beginning of the path to the hidden ruins.
Most had thought it would remain lost forever....
Saventh Yhi had long been the "holy grail" to explorers, historians, and archaeologists... as well as those seeking long lost arcane knowledge and artifacts. It was a city-shrine for Savith... founded where he'd died defeating serpent god Yrdesius.
On Smuggler's Shiv...
The party came across an ancient Azlanti temple... pre-earthfall 10,000 years old. It had been used since then.. 100+ years ago by followers of Yrdesius- led by a priestess named Zura. They'd apparently moved to the Shiv... their "birth" came within the fabled lost city Saventh Yhi.
Docked in Eleder (Hollowboots Bay)
The party deciphered enough of their discoveries, to determine they could possibly find the way to the hidden ruins. Half the party plus one was more interested in selling it so a buyer was found... The Ivory Antiquities Trading Company.
The night the meet was meant to occur, the buyer was murdered on the docks by explosives. It served as a distraction (coupled with an ambush) to keep the party away from the Moana Tarqona as it was boarded and looted. The thieves (pirates and known slave-traders, the Spidertear Gang) escaped on their ship.
At sea...
The party gave chase but with a slow start and a skeleton crew they lost sight of them. Two days later they saw what looked to be the same ship. It was a ruse.. the Tamarind (led by Captain Craw) was a decoy to lead them to Shayonna the Gaunt.
20 point buy
2 traits
max hit points at level 1, half+1 for the rest
12,500 gold to spend on gear.
Core, APG, UM, UC, ISWG, ISM, ACG ... material from other paizo books will most likely get a yes.
Core races only .. probably
Current party is .. pistolero, magus, and druid(pack lord)3/wizard(arcane crafter)2
We are 1/3 through a plug-in module, then returning to the Serpent's Skull AP. The party is currently fighting on a ship who apparently takes captives to sell to someone named Shayonna the Gaunt.
It would be very easy to introduce your character as a current captive in the hold - waiting for a time such as this to make your escape.
You are one deck below main deck. You all know there are 6 sailors on main deck.
Garborn just came from the lowest (cargo) deck, and knows how many are down there.
Human (Cryptic) 6 ~ AC 16 tch 12 ff 14 ~ HP 42/42 ~ Fort+3 Ref+7 Will+6 ~ CMD 17 ~ Init+2 ~ Per+10(+12) ~ PsiPts 21/24~ Grit 4/6 ~ Alt. Defense 8/8 ~ Active Type (Humanoid)
Dr Lendaro wills another round into his chamber, and fires a disruptive shot into one of the orcs attacking Rakdon. He then immediately reloads by hand.
Ahh... not our Earth, but like our Earth (as in the same level of technological/intellectual development... 1850-1900's when the upheaval came), and referred to as Earth by those who live there. That didn't make it into the cut-and-paste.
Other races are less common than Golarion (and generally more isolationist). Androids are fairly common workers in civilized human communities... PCs would be considered among the "Non-Compliant Androids".
Lizardfolk are 10 race pt characters... lose swim speed, gain +2 Know(Engineering) or Craft(Mechanical), gain Desert Runner: Members of this race receive a +4 racial bonus on Constitution checks and Fortitude saves to avoid fatigue and exhaustion, as well as any other ill effects from running, forced marches, starvation, thirst, and hot or cold environments.
Alchemy is all good... Though there are very few spellbooks or purchasable scrolls for transcribing into Formulae, there will be other opportunities to discover recipes - mostly through the science community.
There is some more info >here< on campaign info... and a couple maps.
A half second after the boom of the cannon firing, there is "bloop" as the cannonball lazily drops from the end of the barrel into the water.
Havvy stands akimbo and tskks - asking Gatherine "Think I may'a put the ball in backwards, me ma'am?"
The cannon crew on the other ship loads another ball. You now see the name as the ship continues to turn... the Tamarind.
With Gatherine's shot and warning, the crewman who'd come for your help sees through the disguise of the man on the dock. They engage in melee... crewman with torch against the disguised nogoodnik with knife.
Garborn:
You see no other potential enemies. You notice the reflection of a fire's glow towards the back of the ship (suggesting the fire is in the area you cannot see on the map)
The rooftop enemy shrieks as he's struck by Iolana's arcane bolts. All he can get out in response is "Hey! before she is gone.
Halforc Vivi 4/Fighter 4/MyChamp 1 Hp 82/82 DR 6/magic, AC (25), tch 14, ff (22) Fort +9, Ref +8, Will +2; +2 vs. pois and dis, CMD 25~29
I totally agree on your first 7 points.
Regarding the last two points....
Kingmaker is difficult to keep moving forward.
This is what I do in mine for every decision the party needs to make. (everything... which hex next, left or right, death or mercy, etc.)
One proposes, second confirms.
If no opposition, it stands. (opposition = in gameplay or a "hey wait!" in discussion)
If someone does oppose, they need +1 to "reverse the decision". (one more vote than the proposer has.)
(with this siderule)
For Kingdom decisions clearly a part of a PC's leadership role, said PC gets 2 bonus votes (opposition would need +3 to override or reverse the leader's decision.)
It might seem complex, but having a decision-making system seriously helps things move along AND keeps everyone involved because they know the efficacy of their opinion.
---
Also when deviating from the module in a major way, making clear "what the game is" is important.
I "learned" the following from my first screenwriting class....
When crafting a joke, you want the audience to have expectations, then deliver something else (just the twist).
When crafting a story, you want the audience to have expectations, then deliver something else PLUS deliver what they were expecting (twist plus satisfying expectations).
Running a Kingmaker where "nothing will be as you would expect" is a tough one to prepare for as a player.
That said, I am genuinely impressed how well you were able to keep things interesting (and compelling) - you've got some serious creative mojo, bud.
Furiel finds Barndoor with his head in his hands - whispering rhymes to himself. He raises his eyes and looks to the gnome.
"I am overwhelmed by this unexpected occasion
You've my word I'll strive to be an effective liaison.
My service to Beldame has been a long bumpy road.
I shall scrub myself clean of myself as her toad."
He strips down and tosses his rags to Furiel with glee.
"As ambassador I could stand for some proper attire,
Off with loincloth and cloak and put them to fire.
No more garb of a worm of the clew and the clat.
Just wash when its done for they've oft been beshat."
Calvarot opens his eyes... the exhales as if "put off" by being brought back from the dead... again. "Yeah yeah... You can put that magic stick right back wherever you pulled from, princess."
Captain Timney breathes a sigh of relief, and suggests escorting the Okorn militia survivor back so they can continue.
Calvarot sits up, and looks around. "If you are all willing to get yourselves killed for that @#*& Lachlan... that's on you. I'll take her back to Happytown, and then I'm done."
Easily found loot/gear
50 gold in depleted batteries (silverdisks)
2 hide shirts
2 hide armor
1 heavy horse
2 hide barding, saddles, and saddlebags
3 spears
1 Masterwork handaxe
1 masterwork dagger w/sawback
1 Ranseur
1 sword
1 handaxe
- require know(engineering) to ID/understand how they work
2 rifles with grapples (one appears to be broken)
2 "hover sleds"
Mayze waits until the riders come closer, then moves behind Calvarot.
Calvarot begins swinging his bardiche as the wild-bearded rider hurls his spear into his side.
The two sled-riding rifleman fire their weapons. The spikes launch with a slim cord trailing. One spike buries into Calvarot's stomach.
Calvarot slashes at the spearthrower's horse, and continues his sweeping arc into the other skull-helmed rider as he passes.
The bald wild-bearded rider is thrown from his saddle. The sledriding rifleman unhitches his tether too late... The mortally gashed horse topples over the edge of the rise, and takes him over as well. The body of the horse slams hard onto the ground in front of those lying in wait. The rifleman lands nearby a moment later... he picks up the small metal sled (which appeared to somewhat slow his fall), and begins to affix it to his forearm as a large shield.
Araden's musket cracks.
Your very presence catches the rifleman off-guard. His shoulder rocks back, and his hide armor is now blistered with black shot.
As the second (now heavily injured) mounted rider and rifleman continue, the grapnel cord threatens to yank (already glassy-eyed) Calvarot off his feet.
