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I did have a hard time following the downtime/militia section (but I might have had problems following it in real life, too). Also, the story pace starts to lag, which is really hard to compensate for in a play by post. I've had great fun in the games you've run, and I hope to play with you again.
Derrig goes out looking for food...
...and has pretty good luck!
Remember, lad, they were taking slaves for some reason. The old dwarf shakes his head. This is strange for them. I don't like it.
Derrig nods in thanks at Keridan's aid. Keep back, son--don't let them close on you. He drops his now-useless polearm and draws his cutlass, swinging at the hobgoblin from the ground.
Damn and blast em, every one! Derrig mutters. We've got to give them more targets. He calls out to Gregor and Dane. Hang on, lads!
If Derrig can get down in a move action:
Derrig fires one last arrow at the hobgoblin.
Derrig throws down the bow and half-jumps, half-climbs down the escarpment, drawing his polearm on the way.
He brandishes his weapon and sneers at the hobs in their own tongue. Näytät tutulta - luulen tapoin isoisänne. He spits and shrugs.
Goblin: You look familiar--I think I killed your grandfather. But all you hobs look alike to a Greenskin Stalker...
Looking down at the hobs from the escartment, Derrig feels the ancient rage rising in his heart. He swallows the feelings and focuses on his aim.
He draws another arrow and fires before Gregor and Dane rush into battle.
Other than be your charming self, you mean. Derrig mutters, aware that his gruff manner is not appropriate at the moment. Derrig moves up to Jet and checks to see how she's doing.
Derrig drops his polearm, draws his cutlass, and swings at the boar again.
That ring in his nose shouldn't be there--that probably hurts a lot. Derrig readies his pole arm in case the boar attacks. Keridan, do you think you can help it?
Hearing the scream, Derrig grabs his polearm and rushes to that side of the camp, slinging his cutlass belt over his shoulder as he moves. He stands guard while the other help their injured comrade, peering into the darkness for any sign of the enemy.
Derrig will help with food gathering and/or shelter building.
Derrig cocks his head in thought. You know, we actually have no idea if anyone else had heard what's happened. We were somewhat focused on escaping and finding shelter. His eyes narrow as his consideration turns to concern. I'd love to know what those cursed hobs are up to, though. But a raid this size, and taking a whole town as slaves? And that hob we questioned said they come through a tunnel... He shakes his head. I'd say it's likely the army (or the irregulars or whatever-you-call-them-these-days) doesn't even know the hobs are here. His voice drops to a whisper, and his face sags under a combination of exhaustion and despair. Feuch, Torag, na leig leis a 'bhana-mhara a bhith a' coimhead airson cogadh eile a thòiseachadh.
Dwarven: Please, Torag, don't let the bastards be looking to start another war.
That's a good haul of apples. I wonder if we'll have enough left to make cider...ah, won't have time to let it ferment, though. Derrig chuckled at Dane's exuberance. Bolas, lad. Bolas. When you throw them, the balls wrap the rope around your target. Kind of like throwing a whip, I guess. When the young man runs into Keridan, Derrig peers back the direction he came from, hoping to see what the poor unfortunate was running from.
At the sight of the apple orchard, Derrig grunts in satisfaction. This is perfect. If there are no nasties about, we could fetch some of the others to help harvest these. He scouts the area a bit while Keridan checks the apples.
He scratches his beard in thought. You know, I did a short stint as a cook way back when. I wonder if I can remember any apple recipes...
Derrig grins as he plays with the wolf cub. You're a little terror, aren't you? You don't even need cold iron to take on those nasty mites. Iron...Rauta--that's a good name for you.
Derrig helps set up the camp, then unrolls his bedroll next to Keridan's.
Derrig holds his cutlass across his body in a defensive posture. Just stop it, mama--I'm not going to hurt your cubs!
Derrig moves up to attack the mite that is threatening the wolf. He snarls at another mite to distract it.
As the mites move in to poke at him with their tiny knives, Derrig tosses his polearm behind him and draws his cutlass. He raises the blade over his head and swipes down at the mite directly in front of him.
Mites! Derrig spits. Derrig drops the smokestick and charges the mites, bringing his polearm to bear against the mites.
Derrig nods and takes the smokestick from Keridan. Not a bad plan, he whispers. Let me see if I can get close enough to use this. Get ready. Smokestick in one hand and polearm in the other, the old librarian carefully sneaks towards the den.
Derrig moves up with Keridan, using his polearm to cover the druid.
I'm not sure how to map various actions to the rules, here. Derrig's thinks the group's priorities should be:
After that, he would recommend trying to find out what the hobgoblins are up to and trying to rescue as many of the captured townspeople as possible. I don't know the best way to align those with the different jobs and roles. Derrig has +7 Survival, +8 Profession soldier, and +7 perception. I also wonder how/if Derrig's favored enemy bonus would factor into any of the job roles.
Successfully aided Keridan. (Also, it wasn't on Keridan's loot list, but Derrig has the +2 composite longbow from the shrine.)
Here's Derrig's level information: Ranger 2
+ 8 HP (21 total)
Derrig snorts at Keridan's speech. My "life" is back in the Kraggodan library, past ranks and ranks of Molthune soldiers. If I could get back, I wouldn't be here in the first place. He digs through his pack and hands a small bag to Jet. I have 3 more days of rations, if you don't mind Dwarven food. He examines the bow they collected from the hobs. I usually only worry about providing for myself in the woods, but with the right equipment, I figure I can collect enough food and water for maybe 2 more. But Aubrin's right: first, we need to find shelter, and the more defensible the better. I don't know this region as well as Ausk and Ker, but I know hobs and how they track. Why don't I follow along and cover your tracks behind you?
The old dwarf scowls at Kining. Tha sin math airson bruidhinn mu cuideigin a shàbhail do bheatha. Dwarven:
That's a fine way to talk about someone who's saved your life. Derrig mutters to himself as he surveys the river and looks over their supplies. The river is too wide for my rope, but if we tie these two together... He clears his throat. Honestly, I'd much rather have Gregor and Dane guarding the refugees--assuming the twins don't object, of course. I'm a decent swimmer and engineer. I can stay on this side of the river and work the crane, then try to swim across. Derrig pulls his rope out of his pack. If we tie this rope to the one from the hobs, it will reach across the river. Tie this around me (or whoever else deals with the crane). If anything goes wrong, the rest of you can pull me across. He turns to Gregor and Dane. Which is another reason for you boys to be on the other side: you two can haul any one of us across the river. I'm not sure the rest of us can drag you.
Ausk, why don't you and make sure it's safe? Ker, see if these hobs have anything useful on them. I'll check the shed for supplies, then see if I can figure out how to drop the bridge. The ancient dwarf collects his bow and his pole arm and moves to the shed. He throws open the door and does a quick search, grabbing anything that might be of use.
Derrig steps back to attack the hobgoblin, drawing its attention away from Ausk. (If Ausk steps up, he has a flank.)
Derrig steps back and swings the polearm at the hobgoblin's feet, hoping to trip it.
The old dwarf watches in horror as the wolf and two other hobgoblins attack the people he was supposed to protect. Gregor, Dane--can you handle this one? I've got to help the others! Derrig runs back towards the group and swings at one of the incoming hobgoblins, snarling at them in their native tongue.
Goblin:
Hey, precious! Keep your soft, callus-free hands off of them!
Derrig drops the bow and runs towards the copse of trees, drawing his polearm as he runs.
Derrig nods and whispers, Whatever we decide to with the bridge, we have to get rid of that hobgoblin first. He readies the bow and nods to the two half-elven siblings. On my mark, lads.
I suggest we do the one that draws the least attention. Derrig whispers. He gestures to the young half-elves. We could engage the hobgoblin and wolf out with arrows first.
Derrig picks up the longbow and tests the draw. It's a bit light, but it will serve. Does anyone mind if I carry this?
From the east, in the shack, the sound of shushed conversation.
Gregor--or Dane--are you all right? Derrig swings at the hobgoblin in front of Ausk again.
Derrig moves in to help Ausk with the new threat.
With the threat quickly and expertly dealt with by the twins, Derrig tries to staunch Keridan's bleeding.
His druid friend is still gravely injured, but for the moment, he's not dying.
Hey, beastie, over here! Druids don't taste good anyway. Derrig steps up and attacks the wolf with the polearm.
Derrig turns on the younger dwarf and barks a reprimand in their native tongue.
Dwarven:
We've no time to play guessing games, Kining. In a crisis, we need clear information, forceful decisions, and swift action. Got it?
(add +2 if it's against a goblinoid).
Derrig moves up and takes a look at the markings. Keridan, lad, why don't you check for other supplies while I look at this? I'd could stand to get my hands on a bow, if there's a spare one around somewhere.
Look, I don't know what-all the hobs are up to, but they're capturing your neighbors for slaves. Derrig gestures to the ever-growing group of refugees. If you're looking to hunt, lads, we make excellent bait.
An earth elemental? What is that doing here? Derrig readies his poleam. Watch out! Those buggers can "swim" through solid rock; they can easily get the drop on you.
Derrig watches the creature for a moment, then shifts his poleam into a defensive stance. Huh. It's acting more frightened than angry. Hey, Blondebeard! Do you know this beastie?
With Ausk's help, Derrig puts his shoulder against the door and shoves with all his might.
And no post today, I'm sick and my brain is mush. Tried to do updates but I can't word goodly. Hope you feel better, your worshipling! (Nah, that's not quite the right title...have to think some more.)
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