Namuril Xae-Tal's page

Namuril, though tired after the excursion with his new companions, smiles and claps at Omara's performance. He leans to Zaladrel at the bar. "A fine tale, without much embellishment. That one is a gifted storyteller."

He takes a pull from his wine, glancing around the tavern's room. "Brawd, nad ydych wedi gweld Shalelu ers i ni gyrraedd, ydych chi? Rwyf wedi rhai cwestiynau am ei am yr hyn yr ydym wedi profi."

Namuril smiles at Ulf's remark. "Much thanks, Ulf. Our ancestors smile down upon us, I've no doubt. I believe they were guiding your axe-hand most precisely, this day."

He sets down the goblin chief. "This one stinks. I'm glad to be rid of this burden."

Namuril nods at Zaladrel. "Thank you, brother. Your assistance might well prove essential, if this one is too heavy."

:P

For some reason, I'm picturing Chief Gutwad as monstrously obese. I should be able to handle it with a 16 Strength. ;)

Namuril nods to the Ulfen with a small smile. "I will volunteer to carry the chieftan, Ulf. If he proves to be too heavy, perhaps Zaladrel can assist me."

How heavy is this guy?

Namuril targets an unhurt guard (if there is one) with his bow.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6

"Wrong answer, Gutwad." Namuril lets an arrow fly at the goblin chieftan.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 5

Namuril tips Zaladrel a wink. "I believe it's safe to say that more combat may be in order?" He readies his bow, eying the nearly-destroyed door in anticipation.

"Ulf, has Gutwad responded? Maybe he'll answer the door after our 'knocking'."

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17

I agree; Ulf going first may be most intimidating, and possibly to our benefit. If all else fails, you have ranks in Intimidate, right Ulf? ;)

Namuril leans to Zaladrel, unshouldering his bow as he eyes the hut's entrance. "We've secured Bazza's help, but be ready. I'll not break my word if the little one complies, but I'll also not be caught unaware by goblin trickery."

Very good, Bazza. Lead the way." Namuril lowers his blade from the goblins neck and sheathes it. He then looks askance at his party-mates. "Are we ready?"

Namuril glances up at Omara. "I suppose that is one way to ensure compliance."

He turns his attention back to Bazza. "See? If you help us find your chieftan and then leave us alone, my frightening friend won't come after you with her sharp-and-pointies. What say you? She's an impatient one, she is, and is very eager to hear your response."

Namuril nods at Zaladrel's suggestion. "You speak truth, Zaladrel."

He lowers the blade a bit from the goblin's throat and offers her what he hopes is a convincing smile. "Does your leader yet live, Bazza? I would let you live if you promise to leave me and my friends unharmed, and if you bring us to your chieftan. Does that sound agreeable, little one?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Namuril listens to Bazza's description, a look of incomprehension painting his features. "Can you describe these 'bony longshanks' a bit, Bazza? What did they look like? Where are they now?"

Namuril continues to keep his blade steady, but softens his glare as he considers the goblin's response. "What do you mean by 'all dead soon', Bazza? What is here besides goblins?"

Namuril stares down at the surrendered goblin, the tip of his curve blade at her throat. In an even voice, he speaks to her in Taldane. "Do you understand Common-Speech, goblin? If so, nod your head. If you cooperate with us, you may yet still live. How many more of you are in this camp? Speak quickly; I'll not give you time to build a lie in your mind."

Intimidate: 1d20 ⇒ 3

He then quickly glances at his companions. "Does anybody else want to interrogate our prisoner?"

Namuril grins widely at the goblin that managed to dodge two of his arrows. "Aros yn eu hunfan. Rydym wedi busnes gyda'n gilydd," he calmly tells the goblin, right before swinging his blade at it in a horizontal arc.

I attack G13 (yet again); if I kill him, I'll step over his helpless friend, northward 10 feet.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Ah, DM Wellard . . . a much better tactic! Thank you!

Namuril swears loudly, disgusted at his own inability to hit the goblins. "Lissa! Can you rush past these goblins, that we may flank them?" Dropping his bow, he draws his sword and prepares to cut goblin-flesh.

I'll drop my bow as a free action. If Lissa/Cinder can use Acrobatics or overrun, we could flank them. If she's able to do so, I'd like to draw my sword as part of a move action 5 ft. northward, and attack G14.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 (Possible +2 for flanking)
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

If Lissa/Cinder can't do it . . . I guess I'll have to change tactics.

EDIT: Is it just me, or am I really good at skill checks, but horrible at actually hitting anything? Sigh . . .

Namuril tries to draw a bead on the goblin he just missed, attempting to avoid hitting Lissa/Cinder.

I attack G13 again with my bow (dang soft cover!).

Attack (penalized for attacking into melee): 1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 - 4 = 5
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Dang it!!!

Namuril whirls around as new goblins round the corner. "'Ware the north! More goblins are upon us!" Striding a few steps past Zaladrel, he lets an arrow fly at the closest goblin.

I move 10 ft. north, and attack G13.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

Is there any way I can move to the square Runa was once in? From what I understand, the square is open; I would have line of sight to some enemies, at that point! Of course, any goblins would have soft cover (at least) from Cinder . . .

At any rate: since I haven't acted this round, may I move to that square?

Cursing in frustration at the cramped quarters, Namuril delays his action and waits for the congested area to allow him more advantageous placement.

DM Wellard: Judging everyone's actions, I can't really move into position or attack any goblins from my angle; all squares are full and the door's corners block any potential missile attacks. I hold my action. Sorry, guys!

Namuril keeps his bow at the ready, allowing Ulf passage to the door. He waits for whatever may come.

Namuril drops pace and walks aside Zaladrel. "Worry not, brother. If we encounter any unarmed goblin babes and lasses, I've no doubt our response will be to subdue rather than slay them outright. Our group seems like a fairly moral bunch."

He claps Zaladrel's shoulder. "The smashed door does worry me. I daresay the goblins deserve the ire of whatever beast that's gone a-rampaging here, but I don't wish to be killed by said creature. We'll be careful, have no doubt."

"You speak truly, Omara. I'd rather face them piecemeal than risk an entire goblin-plague at once. Besides, I'm not convinced that they're blessed with tactical genius."

Namuril smirks. "That said, they may be smarter than I think. I'll try to let vigilance overcome my prejudice, lest I underestimate myself into an early grave."

He scans the area quickly, looking for Proudstump.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

Namuril smiles at the Ulfen man. "I'd wager that the element of surprise is quite beyond us, now. Lead the way, Ulf!" He chuckles as he sheathes his sword and readies his bow.

Nice one, Omara!

Namuril silently berates himself for allowing his anger to affect his combat effectiveness. After the goblin's deft dodge, he attempts to reverse the blade and swing at the goblin with an upward slash.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Hot diggity-dang! W00t! Rolling for crit!

Critical Threat: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Critical Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

"Arhoswch yn llonydd, byddwch felltithio a beth brwnt!" Namuril hisses at the goblin he missed. He maneuvers for better leverage and tries a downward chop with his blade.

I try to hit G1 again.

Attack (with Power Attack): 1d20 + 4 - 1 ⇒ (9) + 4 - 1 = 12
Damage: 1d10 + 4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 4 + 3 = 10

DM: Thanks for the map! It's easier to understand the layout, now. :)

Namuril levels his curve blade and strides to the goblin closest to him, slicing at the little creature's midsection.

I'd like to move and engage a close goblin, hopefully without blocking Ulf from charging, should he want to.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

"Eu deall."

Namuril readies his sword and nods to Ulf. "Lead the way, then. I shall watch your back."

Namuril eyes linger on the guard post momentarily before he steps over to Zaladrel and Ulf. "I believe that smaller square building is a guard post of sorts; the upper floor is windowed. I'd inspect it, but I think we should move as one. Lone exploration may be foolhardy. Are you thinking of inspecting this hut?" He points to the large square hut they're looking at.

"Agreed."

After shouldering his bow and drawing his sword, Namuril selects the nearest hut and begins searching it.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Namuril follows Omara through the remnants of the gate, scanning the compound for any lurking goblins. His eyes dart side to side, lingering briefly on each hut, searching in shadows, looking for a movement, listening for the sound of goblin-feet pattering through the mud behind him . . .

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19

He shakes his head and grins, almost a grimace, and exhales slowly. "It is indeed too quiet. The anticipation is wearing on me worse than goblin-steel."

Namuril follows the others to the gate, bow readied.

Namuril steps next to Ulf. "Any plans should be made after we make certain of what we're up against."

He moves a bit closer, nearly crouching as he looks for a vantage point to best observe the village.

I'd like to move a little closer, half-speed using Stealth, and check out the layout.

Stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

EDIT: Wow, that sucks.

Namuril decides to ignore Tavlor's outburst; clearly, he has offended the man by speaking in Elven to Zaladrel. He nods at Zaladrel's quiet statement and follows Runa, Ulf, and Omara toward the area Proudstump pointed out. He keeps an arrow nocked and readied.

"Careful, now. Let us 'ware our surroundings, lest goblin fire-works set us ablaze."

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Namuril watches the exchange between Tavlor and Zaladrel, a mixture of surprise and amusement painting his features. After Omara's speech, he moves a bit closer to the three.

"You speak truly, Omara. These goblins must be our priority; not only because the Licktoads are our quarry, but because a threat to Sandpoint is a threat to Lady Kaijitsu and every other citizen of the town."

He turns to Tavlor. "I, too, find this--the Kaijitsu ship--to be quite intriguing. However, the goblins are but five hundred yards away. We must continue to the Licktoads; any mysteries we uncover will be more easily solved under light of victory."

He then turns to Zaladrel. "Oedd yn gwybod eich bod o'r fath enaid angerddol, Meistr Zaladrel? Yn sicr, Desna ei hun yn gwenu i lawr ar eich cyfer. Yr wyf yn symud gan eich geiriau, ac rwyf o'r un meddwl. . . ond efallai ychydig yn llai o emosiwn y tro nesaf? Rydym yn frodyr; i mi ddweud hyn yn unig o frawdgarwch, nid ddarostyngiad neu fitriol. Os gwelwch yn dda, brawd. . . deyrnasiad yn eich Elf-tymer, a all pobl eraill glywed yn well y doethineb eich geiriau."

Namuril nods in agreement. "I concur. Lady Kaijitsu must be told of this, and bringing back the name plate is a fine idea. I do think, however, that we should track these goblins. Maybe we should see what there is to see within what's left of the ship, as well."

I'd like to see if I can follow this trail.
Survival (tracking): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27

Namuril re-shoulders his pack and bow, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he watches Runa stammer thanks to the halfling. "It is indeed a fine gift, Runa. Such magical cloaks can save a life, I've been told."

After finishing his plate of mushrooms and fish, Namuril wipes his mouth and quietly belches behind a fist. He pushes back from the table and leans back in his chair.

"I, too, am eager to neutralize these goblins. Are you ready to guide us, Mister Proudstump, or do you require more time to prepare?"

He stands, slides his chair back under the table, and gestures to Runa. "That was quite a fine meal. I think Tofa liked it, as well!" He smiles at her and gives the fox a little salute.

"Yes, they do indeed like a blazing fire! I'd hope their fascination with burning would simply destroy the lot of them--and good riddance--were it not such a danger to kinder folk. Do you know, perchance, where such fire-works might be manufactured? I, myself, don't have much knowledge of these devices."

As Proudstump cooks the fish, Namuril's mouth begins to water; he hasn't eaten since breakfast, and just now realizes how hungry he is. He forces himself to quit watching Proudstump's cooking long enough to turn his attention to the halfling.

"What else can you tell us of this fire? Do you have any idea as to what caused it? How far is this place you speak of, and have you viewed the site yourself?"

Namuril smirks at himself, offering a conciliatory gesture.

"I apologize for the barrage of questions; it appears that my hunger has taken the sense out of my tongue. Please, feel free to answer at your leisure."

Namuril nods at Proudstump as he descends the stairs with Zaladrel. "Greetings, Mister Proudstump. I trust you are feeling better, now?"

"I don't know if your snakes dwell within your home or without, but I haven't been successful in drawing them in. I hope your home isn't in too much disarray."

"Mae'n cael ei wneud." Namuril nods at Zaladrel and heads back down the stairs. After looking around a bit, he clears some room in the common room that may accomodate Proudstump.

Namuril then heads to the garden, looking for some of Proudstump's snakes.

I'll look for some of the snakes and attempt to calm them (they're his pets, right?).

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Wild Empathy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Namuril smiles at Ulf. "Well, none are all-wise concerning everything under the sun. I'd wager there's much you could teach others; common sense is sometimes the best wisdom, oft overlooked."

After Runa calls down concerning the real Proudstump, he claps Ulf on the shoulder. "I believe the halfling we've been searching for is found. I'll bring some water upstairs, if you don't mind."

As he ascends the stairs, Namuril digs his waterskin out of his backpack. When he reaches Omara, he hands it to her. "Hopefully, this will quench what thirst he may have."

"You speak wisdom, Ulf. I, too, shall remain on the ground floor. Zaladrel! Byddwn yn galw os bydd angen i chi; cymryd gofal i wneud yr un peth, pe bai'r angen yn codi!"

He takes a cue from Lissa, and begins to examine the ground floor more closely.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

Namuril sheaths his sword, eying the back door. He takes a cursory look around before heading to Proudstump's exit.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

"Should we follow? What is this creature, and what is its purpose?"

He opens the back door and scans the area outside.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Survival (tracking): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

Namuril shouts in disgust at the monstrosity that felled Tavlor. He tries to reign in his shock and rage as he lunges at the creature with his blade.

If I'm close enough, I move to "Proudstump" and attack it with my curve blade.

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7