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Once Kerrigan explains about the city below, Kelborn can't help but look puzzled. "But how do you keep an underground city a secret for any length of time? You should be pleased that it's been quiet so long, it seems like an enormous task!" At the mention of free goods, however, Kelborn quickly drops the line of inquiry and moves forward with Yin to see what's available.
Kelborn steps up before Hru, speaking eloquently, though half-jokingly the whole time. "There, at the dwarf's side, was his human companion, a tall man of startling looks so good that even the most chaste of women would blush at his passing. He was so skilled and athletic, he once hopped a 20ft. gap in a broken bridge with hardly a running start. He approached the door, standing tall as the thunder crashed and the lightning flashed around him. He put his hand on his dwarven companion's shoulder and spoke with resolve: 'My good friend, though we may meet our fate tonight, know that I shall be at your side, ready to protect you and aid you in any way. We shall be victorious tonight, despite the ill omens surrounding us! I swear it on the grave of Aroden!' And with that the man drew his blade and, moving with a warrior's gait, approached the door where their destiny lay." Kelborn waits, as if expecting applause.
Kelborn finds himself in the same overworked leather crafter's shop. "Ah, Hru. I thought you might be here. Worry not, you do not have to return my extra pair of boots." At this, Kelborn turns to the shopkeep. "I will be needing to buy another pair, however. How long do you suspect this will take, my cobbling friend?"
Kelborn will express interest in the wand of magic missile. Upon returning to the keep, he will immediately head to anyone who looks even passably competent at tailoring, and order a new pair of fine boots to replace the ones he lost a long time ago, audibly commenting on his doubt of the quality of the leather he'll find in this backwater keep. After his order is placed, he will approach the inn where he stopped on his way in, ask if any letters arrived for him, and pay for a room, looking for the rest that he has not had since Orvirid, Manfred, Yin and the bugbear burst into the spires. He will rest until it is time for the feast.
Kelborn was reaching into an orc's pockets, searching for gold (or one of those rings with which he could join his friends below) when he heard a snort. He looks up, meeting the newly awakened orc's gaze wondering what sorcery is taking place, and when he feels his wounds closing at the same time, he realizes. He quickly backs off, drawing his longsword and stabbing at the poor reawakened orc, hopefully before he can properly defend himself. Initiative: (1d20+8=12)
Not able to hit Sarpis, or even climb down without most likely breaking his neck, Kelborn does what he can: he nocks an arrow and fires at the orcs down below who are nearest his companions.
Keliwyn's well aimed bolts bounce harmlessly off the air around Sarpis.
Realizing that his arrows are not being entirely effective, Kelborn starts looking around for a path he might be able to use to avoid climbing.
Kelborn, seeing that Sarpis is a magic-user, decides that he is the priority target, and begins firing arrows at him. While he is doing so, he looks around for a safe place to make his descent, and, if he finds one, begins descending into the fray. Two Attacks & Damage: 1d20+8=21, 1d6+3=7, 1d20+8=28, 1d6+3=4 Crit Confirmation + Extra Damage: 1d20+8=17, 1d6+3=4
EDITING
Kelborn moves to the edge near where Ovirid is standing and draws his shortbow, and, taking a cue from the royal dwarf, attempts to fire an arrow into Sarpis. Attack & Damage: (1d20+9=19, 1d6+3=6) "Ovirid? I think I may be needing your help..." Kelborn trails off as he draws another arrow.
Taking advantage of his opponents' distractions, Kelborn attempts to slide his blade through his enemy's kidney. Afterwards, he glances around to see how his companions are faring in this battle. Attack, Damage, Sneak Attack: (1d20+7=20, 1d8+3=8, 2d6=4)
Kelborn will delay moving into the fray until his allies have engaged the enemy, then he will try to move into a flanking position, drawing his longsword as he goes, hoping to bury it in the lung of an unsuspecting orc.
Hearing Hru's screams coming from behind, Kelborn curses under his breath at losing his opportunity at a timely first strike. He will find cover and fire at the nearest orc, hoping to strike before the charging Hru captures their attention.
Kelborn smirks at the sight of a dwarf sneaking, but has to admit to himself that he moves well for one of the stout folk as he follows suit. Stealth 1d20+11=26
"It's much easier going down that it is going up, I must say." After hearing Klyndak's suggestions, Kelborn decides he'd like to be part of the scouting party. He'll volunteer and move ahead once the group is decided. Stealth: (1d20+11=29)
"You're right, of course. I'm not used to the goings on in this realm. To say that this is wholly dissimilar to my life before the Spires would be an understatement. I apologize." Kelborn readies himself to interject during Orlan's speech, but as he sees the crowd of Kannonfodders get swept up in his words, he thinks it wise to remain quiet for a change.
"Also, why is this thing here, and what is it saying?"
"Your Majesty, if I may be so bold as to interrupt... Though my time at the military academy was short-lived, there is one lesson that I have certainly not forgotten: never divide your forces if it is avoidable. Numbers is what wins battles, so keeping a large army together is most important of all." "Another point: though I understand the desire to strike quickly and decisively, we have a keep hear with many defensible positions; we would be foolish to meet the orcs on even footing when we can have the advantage of the Spires!" Kelborn is clearly getting swept up as he speaks, becoming more and more forceful as he goes. "I think it would be best to claim a defensive position here and wait until the orcs make the first move. We should be ready for them, however. Perhaps we can take a page from our kobold nuisances and prepare some surprises for them? I have some ideas..."
Kelborn returns to report his findings to Klyndak and to continue his conversation with the Dofan.
"Huh?" responds Dofan, before adding helpfully, "Oh. Ummm. He's the guildmaster. He masters the guild." "Right. Which guild? You must help me out, here. I'm new to the region. Also, have you ever heard of anyone impersonating Sarpis?" Upon hearing Klyndak's cries: "Hold that thought." Kelborn runs outside the throne room in the direction that Sarpis ran (ie: floated).
"Come, gentlemen! There is no need to bicker at this point! Sarpis (if that is his real name) has already left, and we should be focused on finding where he's gone, as per His Majesty's orders! Orlan, I understand you're upset at the scum escaping, but perhaps quite literally shooting the messenger is not the best course of action?" "And you," he speaks as he turns to the Dofan. "Perhaps it would be best if you were to tell us any information you have on Sarpis as well as help us look for him in order to ingratiate yourself with our kind host, who suddenly has an army to back up his edicts..."
As Sarpis begins mumbling his spell, Kelborn strains to hear, hoping he can decipher which spell he is casting. He also draws his bow.
"That would be me." Kelborn steps forward into the light. "And I'm fairly certain that we've never met before, good sir. Yet, a man calling himself 'Wain Sarpis' did indeed hire me to climb up these spires and spy on His Majesty, which I probably would have gone through with had the pay been better." As he says the last part, Kelborn looks surprised, as though that isn't what he meant to say. He then looks at the throne, and curses under his breath. He smiles sheepishly. "But that's all in the past; we should be focusing on why this fake Sarpis tried to impersonate you!" "Right?"
Feeling as though he should probably speak to Sarpis, Kelborn heads to the throne room as well.
Yin gives Kelborn a dazzling little grin at his offer. "Sure, although it may not take too long" She replies "The rings look like some we have, and likely have the same enchntment on them, featherfalling" She adds certainly. Kelborn is dazzled. "Hmm... In that case, perhaps I might make a case for one of those rings. Considering the manner in which I arrived at these spires, I would like to take pains avoiding a gravitous fate." Kelborn closes his eyes a moment as he says 'gravitous,' as though attempting to decide whether or not it is actually a word. He decides it is and ends with a confident smile.
Kelborn meets Orlan's gaze for some time, but looks away before Yintareh speaks. Yin can't help but giggle a little as she listens to Kelborn speak. "Oh, but the situations that are deemed 'suicidal' by most are often the most fun!" She declares certainly, a bright excited spark in her eyes. Unable to resist that kind of unbridled enthusiasm, Kelborn can't help but smile as Yintareh speaks. "I would say that the activities I find the most entertaining do not involve an orc attempting to tear me limb from limb, but I shall try to keep an open mind." She quickly settles however, the sudden burst of energy subsiding as she looks to Orlan. "Would you like me to look at that magical jewellery you found whilst you boys do some planning?" "Hmm, would you be needing of any assistance, madam? I have some skill in the magical arts and two heads are often better than one. Unless, of course, you are an ettin." Kelborn chuckles at his own joke.
"Well Kelborn lad, iffin' we're after makin' a last stand, it looks like at least we will be 'avin' company." "Indeed! More company is always welcome in times of war." Kelborn performs a low bow as he introduces himself to the new arrivals. "Greetingg, I am Kelborn Nissenthrot IV, and I am exceptionally pleased to make all your acquaintances!" He turns to Klyndak and Orlan: "With these new arrivals, I am feeling more confident in our chances. Though, I admit, I would prefer not to do battle with a horde of orcs, I now feel that our chances have elevated from 'suicidal' to simply 'exceptionally risky.'" "You need not fear, I shall fight to the last for your cause." Sense Motive DC 9:
Spoiler: Though more confident, you get a sense that Kelborn might try to save himself if the battle goes awry.
With a suspicious glance at Kelborn for eavesdropping... Kelborn shrugs, as if to say What did you expect? Surprised and shocked by the incoming group, Kelborn keeps to the back, and turns to Orlan and Klyndak, whispering: "Who are these new guests then? What is going on?" Quietly, mostly to himself:
Spoiler: "... and when will I finally get some rest?"
Kelborn, do ye want ta be kickin' Hru fer me." "With pleasure!" Kelborn kicks Hru, not hard, but enough to wake him up. "Hope you're feeling better, I think trouble is on its way..."
"A final stand it be then," Orlan agrees, "Or until our kinsmen arrive ta join the battle." Not quite able to sleep due to the dwarves discussions, Kelborn quietly listens, until Klyndak and Orlan mention a final stand. He sits up in his bedroll. "Good dwarves, though I am quite enamored with you, I can't say that I'm entirely thrilled at engaging in any form of 'final stand.' I did not climb to the Foehammer Spires in order to dig myself an early grave. Surely there are other options available to us?"
Standing outside the doors to the former-Batspire, Orlan gruffly gives them another pounding with his mailed fist. "Be openin' up the doors already!" he gruffly complains, "C'mon...sure'n that throne o' our ancestors can be sensin' me out here! Lemme in, I say! And be lettin' muh cousin know I've returned!" A sleepy-eyed Kelborn, still moving gingerly from his wounds, opens the door with sword at the ready. "Come in," he says curtly. "Glad to see you back." Sense Motive DC 3:
Spoiler: He's not glad to see you back. At least, not at this hour.
As Kelborn lays down to rest, the pain from his wounds cause him to cringe, but despite the discomfort he falls asleep nearly immediately from exhaustion. Hru and Kelborn would enjoy it more if the disintegrating stalkercrabs weren't dripping from their wounds.
"Yes, I need rest. Venturing forward at this point would be a fool's errand. We also need to speak about strategy, I have some things I wish to discuss about how we move forward; for now, suffice it to say that myself being the source of light may not be working in our favour."
"Alright," Kelborn says as he gingerly pulls the crab creature's corpse from one of his many gaping wounds. "But be aware that I won't be much good in a tussle with the things if it comes to that."
Hru writhes calling out to Gorum for aid "Iron Lord do not abandon me! Your servant requires aid.....AAARGGHH!! Kelborn! Strike Again!" Kelborn hesitates, not wanting to cause the death of his companion, but seeing many of his wounds heal through divine magic, he heeds Hru's call and strikes at the moving bump under his flesh.
Kelborn moves towards Hru, attempting to carefully remove the crab before it's too late. Hopefully, he can be more precise when he's wielding his dagger on someone else. Attack & Damage: (1d20+5=12, 1d4+3=7)
"Are ye rid of them," I ask, keeping a firm grip on my hammer lest we are charged again. Realizing the other little monsters have fled, I cast about with my eyes to determine where they have gone. Kelborn falls to his knees grimacing in pain. He's not quite sure what's worse: the fact that he's nearly dying, or the fact that half the wounds were self-inflicted. He also begins looking around for any other crab, a very rational fear of them developing.
Letting out a blood-curdling scream as the flames engulf him, he lets out another cry as the thrashing inside him gets more intense for a moment. Then a the deepest sigh of relief escapes his mouth when he realizes that the thrashing has ceased.
"Burn 'em off lads," I suggest again, this time with a little more urgency, "Like ticks!" Not entirely fond of the idea, Kelborn hesitates at first. Upon feeling the next sharp pain, however, he realizes that at this point, he is willing to try anything. He jumps in.
Grimacing and trying as hard as he can to fight the pain, Kelborn will tell himself that stabbing himself will hurt significantly less than the crab tearing at his insides, and attempts to get at the thing through his own flesh.
Kelborn's crab finally manages to tear a hole in his flesh to burrow into.
Kelborn drops his sword, realizing that he will need more finesse for the task ahead. He pulls his dagger from his belt, and turns it toward himself, just as he hears Hru screaming for a dagger. For a moment he considers. Then, after a sharp pain from the crab-thing, he mutters "Sorry, Hru," just before a last-ditch effort to stab the crab within.
Seeing the creature burrow into the belt allows Kelborn a moment of relief, which quickly disappears when he realizes that the creature is still alive.
Realizing that grabbing at the crabs is not working, Kelborn follows the lead of his companions by slicing at the creature with his longsword.
In a panic, Kelborn pulls at the creature digging into his flesh, attempting to pull it off as fast as possible.
Reacting poorly to the creature hanging onto his flesh, Kelborn reacts how anyone attacked by creepy crawlie things might: by grabbing at the things and attempting to throw them off.
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