You know, there's probably no good path forward. I'll leave you to it.
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There's no need to change it at all. Sneak attack is great but it has important limitations. A Rogue in AiME is not the equal of any other class when it comes to combat. Pairing Rogue with Hobbit trades speed for stealth proficiency until you get Cunning Action. But since you can't use all of your abilities at once, there is always a tradeoff. Small Folk partially solves for the most glaring problem of rogues having fewer hit points and attacks per round, and allows them to actually be rogues instead of just poor archers. I have never been a fan of Opportunity Attacks. Seriously, If we're in a sword fight and I step backward, why would I let my guard down for you to get a free shot? It makes no sense at all. It's a stupid rule, frankly, that forces all participants - players and GM - into tactical bottlenecks. But if there's one situation where it actually makes sense, it's when something very small is attacking your genitals from between your legs. You're gonna move, and you're not going to take a swing at your own junk. While your defenseless, that little dude is still trying to cut your nuts off from point blank range. Some rules are just rules for the sake of making rules, like, say, extra attacks. Okay, you get more attacks now for reasons. Why? Why not. What did you give up to get that awesome advantage? Nothing. Small Folk is probably the best Virtue, but it's also the best designed. It has restrictions and forces you to give up something to get it and to use it. And at the end of the day, you're still going toe-to-toe with the enemy, or in this case, multiple enemies, and since you're not using a shield and wearing crap leather armor, you're gonna get hit and take full damage. There's nothing unfair about it. If anything, I would say it should actually be able to be improved, so that another enemy attacking into the space suffers disadvantage unless they want to risk hitting their ally. That's the kind of feat progression we'd get from Pathfinder.
Hobwise nearly falls to a knee as the Captain's counter-attack catches him twice with powerful hits. But from that low vantage, he sees the severity of the wounds he has dealt this vile creature; black blood spills freely from deep gashes. Now is the time to finish him! Launching forward, he stabs his broadsword into the bowels of the cursed orc. Disengage and move, Small folk to re-enter the space of the Orc Captain.
AOO:
Take care, Wulfgith. All the best to your family during this difficult time.
As one orc falls to his blade, another strikes Hobwise, a searing pain momentarily stunning the hobbit. He sees the battle for what it is; pawns of the Enemy flailing and snarling, yet unprepared for this tested band of heroes. The smell of blood, sweat, stinking flesh and rancid foodstuffs strikes his nose, and he shakes out of it, a mere blink of an eye passed to stupor. And now the captain presents himself! Hobwise spins from the orc which cut him, his broadsword swinging in an arc. His body rotates along the extended shaft of the spear before the vile orc can react, and then the broadsword slashes into its black hide. Disengage, move and small folk into the space of the captain.
AOO:
Seeing Hobwise run off when Doderic was having so much trouble made her sigh. True the other hobbit did have Thorgrim to aid him, doesn't mean he couldn't use an extra had.
Hobwise does not have time to concern himself with Doderic's action. The fellow hobbit's first taste of terror, perhaps. His own initiation seemed so long ago now... The mighty Thorgrim hews through the far sentry. The plan seems to be working, but these are not the orcs of the High Pass, which fell in droves to the company's blades. "Let's send these foul creatures back to hell!" As the sentry falls, Hobwise lunges deeper into the nest, plunging his sword into the belly of the next orc while close enough to smell the stench of its vile skin. Small folk to enter the space of Orc Warrior 2.
AOO:
Any chance of getting a tactical map for this encounter? It might be good to just throw up a grid slide we can re-use. I'm seeing where they are getting smart and making them modular now.
Hobwise gets into position with Wulfgith. There is a strange pause to the action, and the hobbit wonders if the plan was laid out too hastily. A signal is needed so that the company can coordinate this surprise attack. From behind the great stone monolith where the view of the orc sentries is blocked, he takes an arrow and wraps it in cloth, sets it to fire and shoots it high into the air. Then, as quickly as he can while Ingold and Cereidh fire their opening volley, he hustles back to position and draws his broadsword. When the arrows fly he leaps forth from his spot around the rock face and stabs at the sentry.
Be safe, GM!
I think we're ready. Assuming the orcs fail passive perception, should the party get a surprise round?
With Doderic in the mix I think we could split forces 2 and 2 and flank the orc position. Doderic and Thorgrim on one side and Hob and Wulf on the other.
We're in real trouble if Thorgim can't take on 3 of these orcs by himself.
Oops - meant for this to be in Discussion. GM, if we station ourselves at the end of the gully nearest the spire, 50' away, are we able to target the orcs with bows? If so, I propose that Thorgrim, Wulfgith, and Hobwise approach from the far side of the spire, out of sight from the orcs, and then Cereidh and Ingold can start firing down into the camp once we're in position. When the orcs begin to mobilize or if they attempt to flee, the fighters will spring into action, flanking the orc position from either side, with Thorgrim on one side and Wulfgith and Hobwise on the other. If Doderic is still with us, he can choose where he wants to be.
I concur.
Looks like Wulfgith has the highest CHA, but I'm confused by the results of the deception roll. We want as many orcs as possible pursuing us so we can ambush them; why would we want to beat DC20 and only peel off 2 or 3 of them? Is this action repeatable? 12 orcs does not seem like very many for our group. Thorgrim could probably take on that many alone.
As the company was not discovered, and the goal of the orcs is in sight, there is no longer need for him to scout ahead. Hobwise waits for the rest of the group to catch up with him.
As the group sets out in pursuit of the orcs, Hobwise races ahead, to at least gather the strength of their quarry, should the hunted become the hunters. It strikes the hobbit as either fortuitous or deliberate that the orcs did not turn on the light and smell of their camp and attempt to ambush the company. Perhaps this is a scouting group only. Perhaps they have orders to make haste for the larger orc camp. Who knows what an orc thinks? "Pursue carefully," Hobwise advises the others. Then the hobbit races ahead, bow at the ready.
Hobwise wakes Thorgrim. "Quiet, my friend. Orcs, some distance to the southwest. A mile, perhaps. We have the favorable wind, but these coals have likely betrayed us." He wakes the others in turn with the same message. Hobwise scans the area around the campsite. Have they chosen a place where they might stage an ambush?
"A fine kill, Wulfgith!" Hobwise joins in on the butchering, first securing the offal, heart, kidneys, liver, and lungs, washing them and setting them aside. He scrapes the fatty tissues and renders it in the pot, then adds in the tenderloin fillets. While those cook over low heat, he builds a makeshift smoker from green branches, leaves, and grasses, and with Thorgrim's aid, a durable bed of coals. The company feasts on the tenderloins and back straps well into the night. While they eat he sets the pot to bil and adds in the cleaned and diced innards. Later the ribs come out of the smoke and they indulge again. Hobwise carries on with Doderic while he cuts the meat into thin strips and continues to feed the smoker. By morning, many pounds of steak are dried well enough to last several days against turning. Another hearty breakfast of the par-boiled heart with a side of kidney and liver, all sauteed in the rendered fat, fills their bellies for the day. He takes the early hour to clean his cooking tools and wrap the meats in large leaves before layering them in his large sack. Lastly, the fat and added into the bottom of the cook pot with lid secured to deter flies. Hobwise is tired but extremely satisfied.
Hobwise shakes his head. "He's thought the world revolved around him long before the Shadow got to us. If you can cure him of that you'll be the greatest healer of the Age!" "Thank you for the herbs. I'll put them to good use."
Hobwise observes Ingold's prowess at finding herbs, and generates a list of highly desired ingredients. Basil, Mint, Parsley, Cilantro, Oregano, Thyme, Tarragon, Rosemary, Sage, Marjoram, Lavendar, Dill, Chives, Bay And also look for mushrooms, wild lettuce, and root vegetables to compliment the efforts of the company's Hunter.
Hobwise awakes to the muted light of day, his night having been particularly uncomfortable for the summer heat, and the other thing. He tends to the elvish cook pot from a distance to catch the cool morning air. Tired and preoccupied, he burns some of the giblets, which he never does. "For want of butter!"
Hobbit! Hobwise bit down on his pipe while Thorgrim unburdened himself. To be addressed in the unfamiliar, as if the two had not shared the road and fought side by side for the better part of three years, was deeply insulting. Beyond that, the Beorning seemed to be disinterested on why anyone else might be on this errand. Hobwise' spirits were not buoyed by the start of this conversation. He allows a pause after Thorgrim's remarks, more to see if he would simply wander away without affirmation, if that is what the man sought. "I do not understand you, Thorgrim," he finally answers. "Is this not exactly what you are meant to be doing? Gold is not an end to itself, so why care so much for the pursuit of it? Surely your farm in the Vale sustains itself; what would treasure buy you? "And why do you have that farm anyhow? You are as suited to tend to an estate as a ship which never leaves the harbor. The idea of you obsessing over the apportionment of crops in your fields or the recipe for mead - preposterous! No, it is a place to be, and then to not be. "You have the appearance of a Man who has what he needs and more; a fine blade, a dalliance with an elf mistress, and a sure path before you where that sword is particularly useful, as opposed to collecting dust on a mantle. "I suggest you figure it out. I'll not have a distracted warrior at my back when the time comes to fight the Enemy. And if it's the Shadow at play in your head, best to seize a moment to rid yourself of that darkness and make it count." I did, Hobwise thinks to himself, and then picks up his pace.
Hobwise chews his pipe as Ingold tells the tale of ages past. The hobbit had spied Weathertop on each occasion traveling to and from Rivendell, but gave it a wide berth. Now they marched directly toward it. Toward evil.
"If Glorfindel had desired expedience, he would have instructed Lindir to provide us with horses. Another week to this journey will mean little, I suspect, and perhaps uncover a greater truth about the nature of arms transactions in this region." He almost says, so close to the Shire, but does not.
I concur.
"Then I bid you safe travels," offers Hobwise. He takes his leave to rejoin the others in the camp below.
"Hobwise Hornblower, of the Shire." The hobbit bows, as is his custom. "We are travelers on an errand from Lord Elrond by way of Glorfindel of Rivendell. We travel to ancient Fornost, to see if the rumors of resurgent evil in that land of ages past are true or not. Perhaps you have heard something during your campaign which may illuminate our road?" He says all of this plainly, hiding nothing.
Hobwise can make little of the conversation down in the camp below, but he can hear the shouts of his fellow company men, and things seem to be escalating, when at first the transaction of weapons for silver appeared to end peaceably. He determines that now is the time to emerge from the shadows. Hand on the hilt of his sword, he quietly approaches the two nearest men from the second group who are still stationed along the hill. "Evening," he begins amicably, knowing that his presence will arouse suspicion. On the other hand, he's a hobbit, and Men are rarely intimidated by persons of smaller stature than they. "I wonder, what purpose you be needing such fine arms for? It's not every night so much coin trades hands, and when the location of such a transaction occurs along the Lone Road, at the Last Bridge, where hostilities have recently commenced only a short ways to the north, where some say giants have been roused to aggression against fair folk, questions about the nature of a group of sturdy men in the vicinity might rightly be asked. But don't measure me wrong boys, I am inquisitive by nature, but don't appreciate being dismissed. For a straight answer, I'll thank you and be on my way."
Also, Hobwise, he ain't left yet. I know, but that previous Lore spoiler has some devastating info that those characters have first hand knowledge of. Regardless, you have moved things along.
It may be insightful for Cereidh or Wulfgith to make that Lore check, although it appears that we will only get a combat encounter here if we provoke one.
Hobwise continues to watch the actions of the two groups, and chooses not to reveal himself yet. When the large cache of weapons changes hands, he wonders why these folk would need to arm themselves in so fine a fashion. Are transactions like this normal? Perhaps the Shire was too sequestered to be aware of such goings-on mere days travel from the eastern border. Would his fellows at the Playful Pigeon ale house in Longbottom even shed concern for such news, should they be pried from their merriment for long enough to listen to the whole of the tale?
As the group along the ridge splinters and introduces itself non-violently, Hobwise relaxes, but remains hidden for now.
When the group moves on, Hobwise will follow after, staying within range to dash onto them (50'), if possible.
If they appear to be spreading out and arraying themselves in positions where they could shoot arrows or throw spears into the camp below, he will spring into action, but not before.
That is an exceptionally thoughtful answer. I was thinking about something related earlier today. Well, not that related. Me and my wife have been watching Schitt's Creek on Netflix - we're into the final season now. The season 5 finale is a performance of Cabaret, and you get to watch all the minor characters go through some credible personal growth. Anyway, I was thinking how much that enriches the interactions with the main characters to have these fleshed-out secondary characters, and also how valuable an actor is in that role. From the perspective of the writers, I see how important it is to think of minor characters as having individual motivations instead of simply as plot devices - it feels more real to the viewer/reader/listener. So I appreciate that Tomas, who means nothing to us, should still be treated as a fully realized character in the greater context of Middle-Earth, the roleplaying game, and as such, killing him, short of him attempting to first kill a PC, is an evil act, even if his intentions are also evil. If we just want to play murder hobos, there are other games to scratch that itch.
Hobwise continues to sit tight, waiting for the bandits to arrive at the campsite. He remains hidden, senses alert.
Before his immediate departure, the hobbit throws a few more sticks on the fire to keep it burning at least for a few more minutes. Then he obscures his tracks and moves off.
Working fast, Hobwise gathers a small amount of brush and sticks, then tears the furs from the man and, cutting them into several strips, makes use of the natural oils from the skins to light a quick-burning fire. Setting that aside momentarily, he takes three arrows from the man's quiver and wraps the arrowheads in the remaining fur strips, stabbing each through the arrow point to prevent them from unraveling in flight. Then Hobwise sits down next to the small fire, knowing it will only burn a minute more, and lights the heads of all three arrows. With the flames burning wildly, he draws his shortbow, but lays on the ground with his feet anchored against the heartwood. All three arrows are set upon it at once, a finger separating each shaft at the butt. He draws the string back with both hands, pulling it until his muscles ache with strain. Raising his legs halfway toward the top of the sky, he lets go, sending the three flaming arrows high into the night, arcing toward the dozen bandits along the ridge.
As soon as the signal arrows are away he scrambles to his feet and races after them.
rpg combat is a silly thing to begin with. If I hit you and get through your armor with a sword strike, that's just about the end of you. You wouldn't be coming at me like nothing happened. So I think we can do whatever. It may never come up again. My concern was really about shadow points. I'm good with the proposed house rule.
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