Ajjira looks to Kutok. Pointing roughly towards the girly voice, she clamps her hand over her own mouth. With that, she sneaks toward the voice as best she can. (I'm away from home, so would the all-mighty DM kindly roll any necessary rolls for Ajjira?)
Genji laughs a little once he fully understands his situation. He's been in the woods long enough to know druid and shaman magic when he sees it.
"City hooligans? Dear Lady I understand enchanting the vines if you suspected we were going to harm your little friend but I don't feel the insult was at all warranted. Now miss I do hate to complain but I can't seem to find a little fox named Zuzu. She's a dear companion of mine and I suspect you may have accidently caught her up in your spell. If you wouldn't mind releasing her I'd be very appreciative as she gets frightened when she's held too tightly."
Kutok nods and moves to flank the girl's location, taking his time to move quietly. His path unexpectedly takes him though open ground, however, and he realizes he may have been spotted.
"Master Genji is correct in that not all of us are of the urban persuasion," Isaeldan says, futily trying to twist this way and that to escape the thorny vines. "I appreciate your concern, and do sincerely apologize for tespassing on your lands- we meant no harm to you, but are in the process of tracking down the lair of orc raiders. Had we known that such a one as you was in this region, we would have sought you out, at least for what knowledge you could have given us."
Harumn, Gengi and Isaeldan take their turns appologizing as Kutok gets into position, behind good cover outside the radius of grasping vines but still another round from being able to flank their assailant. Suddenly bright laughter breaks out from the treetops and a young halfing girl leaps down, legs going out from under her as she lands, splaying out in front of her. The vines relax their grasp, uncoiling and receeding into the soil.
The girl gets up, rubs her head and scowls up angrily at the tree. Her hair is a gnarled mess of woody brown, her clothes look like the rags of a street urchin quite in contrast to the elegantly carved and ornimented shortspear over her back.
The flittering bogun lands perched on the edge of Harumn's shield and full of apparently a kind of new smug bravado, leans forward and sticks out it's tongue at him--actually an owl pellet carefully placed in it's frog skull head.
"Okay, okay. I get it. You're friends. Right." she says, smiling. "So what were you saying about orcs?"
Suddenly two men come busting through the brush--"Gotcha!"
It's two of the caravan guards. They look around from the dwarf and ranger, to the cleric and magic user, to the bard and exotic female rogue...they don't even seem to see Kutok. Their faces blanch and they both curse.
"I mean, nice day...my friend here meant to say. We'll just be going now..." says the other meepingly.
Genji casually pulls free an arrow and smears the tip with the vial of viper venom.
As he does so he attempts to answer the halfling girls question.
"These gentlemen are the escorts of the wagon up ahead. The wagon is filled with barrels, most likely a fresh narcotic delivery from Kali to a group of orcs we've recently witnessed attacking villages along side an ettin. So unless these two chaps have an explaination to the contrary I was wondering if you wouldn't mind me shooting a few of them."
"I would not bother trying to flee," Isaeldan says to the two men. "Even if you dodged our shots and escaped all of us in the immediate confrontation, Master Genji is an excellent tracker. We would find you, most likely while you slept, and take you anyway. Why not save a step and surrender now?"
Harumn bends over to retrieve his axe, grinning wickedly as he stands again. He lets the gesture itself serve as his message.
The leftmost caravan guard scrambles to raise a large round shield. His compatriot dives behind his shield. Both crouch low to get maximum coverage. They draw swords defensively.
"Hey, we're just hired muscle!" says the one "Like you've never guarded a wagon or two in your day?" leaning out without loosing the protection of his friend's defenses.
"Shuddap! We're cooked. Let's just get as many as we can! Remember kid, magic users first! Then archers, then we take the melee fighters!" the one with the shield calls back to his friend, and sword out begins to stalk forward into the folliage "We may just live through this..."
"Oh, ye want t'get t'the magic folk, aye?" Harumn bangs his axe against his shield and places himself directly between the approaching guardsmen and the assembly of Isaeldan, Gillad, and Keria.
"Come n'try it!"
Kutok lunges from the shadows as they pass by, leaping on top of the shield-bearer like a striking tiger. His eyes are the eyes of a hunter, as his hands bear death.
Harumn imposes himself, drawing the complete attention of the pair of fighters, leaving them both open to Kutok's attack from the shadows. Kutok knocks the shield away and snakes an arm under the throat of the first man, squeezing hard enough to wrench the breath out of him with a wheeze. The second guard is left to wheel away wide eyed into open sight of archers and spellcasters alike.
The druid takes a talisman from her rag clothes, circles it in the air around her head and makes a cry like a bird of prey. In almost instant answer a hawk breaks through the treetops, fluttering down, eyes fixed on the young halfling girl.
"Last chance you two." Genji says calmly but loudly as he levels his poisoned arrow at the exposed guard. "Drop your weapons or die on ours"
"Oh please don't surrender, it's been sooo long since I've had a bit of fun..." Ajjira smiles wickedly at the remaining guard as she moves into a flanking position.
Init 9, just in case.
The second guard indeed drops his weapon, but only to jump into the fray where his older friend is being mauled by the wild orcblooded monk. Gengi releases his arrow, but its flight is delayed by the unexpected action. It hits, but not deeply--it's payload of poison not immediately having any great effect on the young fighter. Between the two, they are able to pull Kutok off of his opponent and engage him in a tight quarters brawl. Once free the guard who lost his shield reaches into his belt and opens a reinforced leather compartment, pulls out a dangerous looking flask and drinks it down...
Keria has been waiting to see how things played out, but her companions' indiscretions and the younglings' lack of foresight seem to necessitate combat.
Drawing her bow, she begins to recount an appropriate tale to collect her thoughts and inspire her allies.
Seeing an opportunity to give the monk a hand and noticing that the guards are no longer intent on harming the spellcasters, Harumn charges forward and attempts to knock the younger one out of the fight completely.
Seeing an opportunity to give the monk a hand and noticing that the guards are no longer intent on harming the spellcasters, Harumn charges forward and attempts to knock the younger one out of the fight completely.
The dwarf charges the younger of the two attackers, shield out to try and knock him onto his rear and out of the fight with the monk. The kid turns steps out of the way of the shield, colliding plate to chain in a bone rattling collision from which both stagger back nearly unmoved. With a frustrated glance over to his friend, thick in battle with the monk, he squares himself against the dwarf, pulling a bootknife out from its sheath.
Isaeldan raises his hands. "Know in your hearts, friends," he says, his voice swelling with his magic, "that Vaedryn has ordained our victory, and let your strikes land true!"
Kutok strikes out with an open-palm strike - not at the man, but rather the flask he is attempting to drink...
Feeling the rush of the cleric's blessing upon him, Harumn smiles wide as he takes a low swing with his axe blade at the youth.
"C'mon down 'ere, ye stubborn brat. Le's see how ye fight on yer knees!"
Kutok's hand smashes through the bottle, just as the bearded caravan guard upends it, spraying a splash of thick dark liquid and shattered glass. Furious the man glances at the now broken vial stem and tosses it aside, shield bashing the monk with a metal shod backfist and a shout of frustration . "Do you know how much that blasted vial cost me!!"
Meanwhile Harumn closes with the younger fighter, who spreads his arms out wide, waiting for the attack to come. As the axe comes down, the kid's footwork pays off only a little, turning his knee and twisting away so that a blow that would have likely cost him a leg, instead cuts deeply into the side of the opposite knee, not quite stopped by his shinguard. He turns the knife over for a downward stab when a shout comes to him from his partner, still busy with the monk. "What are you doing, messing with him for! The wizards lad! I said go for the wizards!"
He drops the knife further into his hand, holding the flat and with a grunt of pain and a self-conscious nod, slings it at Gillad, sticking him in the shoulder up to half the length of the blade .
As an answer to the man, Kutok only smiles grimly, and darts backwards in a defensive maneuver, drawing a vial of his own and drinking it before the man can return the favor.
Immediately, Kutok bursts in size, growing in seconds before reaching a height of at least 12 feet tall.
He drops the knife further into his hand, holding the flat and with a grunt of pain and a self-conscious nod, slings it at Gillad, sticking him in the shoulder up to half the length of the blade .
Harumn's eyes widen at the man's audacity and furiously hacks at his extended arm with his axe, punishing him for attacking his companions.
"HERE! DOWN HERE, YE STUPID CUR!"
Genji sees that his companions have the situation well in hand. That and with Kutok swelling in size his chances of getting another shot off are dwindling.
Genji worries about when the rest of the caravan will appear though, they wouldn't have left the guards behind and no doubt have heard the sounds of combat by now.
"I'm going to go check on our target and make sure we're not about to be flanked. Harumn and Kutok have these two."
with that genji lopes into the woods towards the road trying to drown out thesound of combat to see if his ears can detect any trouble.
Once again, Gillad is caught a bit off balance at how shockingly fast violence can break out, and suffers for it with a thrown knife to the shoulder.
Gillad winces at the pain, but as far as he can tell, it looks worse than it is; a little bit of blood and a damaged robe. Hopefully the knife won't turn out to be poisoned.
Realizing he is a primary target of the more experienced fighter, Gillad feels around in his spell pouch for his well-worn but tough scrap of leather, and begins the gestures and words to create some protective force around himself.
Satisfied that he is a little more protected, Gillad finally notices the change that has come over Kutok, and gapes, amazed.
Ajjira steps up behind the guard who fights Harumn. Probably too lazily, she stabs forward. Attack total = 15. Damage 9 if she hits.
A delimma races through Isaeldan's mind. Should he continue to fight here, or accompany Genji to check on the caravan? He is used to being forced to decide so quickly. After a moment of paralyzing indecision, he decides that the situation really us under control here, and that the smarter choice is to help the gnome.
"I shall accompany you," Isaeldan says as his shorter companion turns off into the brush. The cleric isn't stealthy like the ranger, but surely stealth no longer matters.
Like chopping through a treebranch Harumn's axe follows through a bloody arc across the young man's outstretched arm, and it drops into the leaf strewn mud cut clean at the elbow. The fighter doesn't scream, his eyes just go wide in dumb amazement and he stumbles backward. With a ripping sound Ajjira's blade comes out through his chest, bulging against the layer of chain. His eyes roll back and he falls to his knees. The bigger, older fighter throws down his weapons and backs away from them, hands in the air, not even looking at the monk--his eyes fixed on his fallen cohort. After a few faltering steps backward he rushes to the lad's side, scooping his head up and murmoring over the body--big tears welling up between the worn leathery creases in the older man's face.
Meanwhile Genji and Isaeldan track their way after the wagon, staying out of sight. It rolls on, much as it did before, the various folk accompanying it seeming very much oblivious to what might have happened to their other two guards. Only the two elaborately dressed and cowled men seem to have taken notice--seeming distracted and even more grim than before. The horid smell on the air seems distinctly worse. Whatever foul pit they are headed to, it would seem they are drawing closer.
Genji rushes back to his companions. "The caravan is still moving but I doubt we have long before they reach the orc war camp. It'd be best if we could take it out before then".at this
"In fact, I've got a plan to stop them, does anyone have a smokestick I coul..." With that Genji finally notices the weeping guard clutching the corpse of his protege. Genji realizes this is the fate that all guards willingly risk, and they had many chances to surrender. But the feeling of loss spreads to him as he cannot help but morn the life of one so young. Even an enemy.
Harumn's arms go weak and he lowers the bloody axe at his side, frowning heavily at the display of emotions. The boy had been young indeed, too young for such a fate. Harumn glanced at the arm on the ground, severed by his own hands, and then to the weeping older man. It was true that guards faced many dangers and that certainly they must accept such risks in their line of duty, but Harumn wondered now if these men were guards by choice or by necessity.
His jaw hung open, his brain searching for the words he needed. Nothing seemed to fit, and so the dwarf mumbled the only words he could find.
"...I'm sorry, lad."
Isaeldan emerges from the bushes just behind Genji, worry on his face. His elven ears heard the weeping before he saw the scene, and he could not help but feel worry that something had befallen one of his companions.
Finally gaining sight of the situation, he breathes a sigh of relief, but it is quickl replaced by a mild look of sorrow.
"I pity the youth, for he well may not have known what he did," Isaeldan says. "But you," the elf continues, raising an accusatory finger towards the sobbing man, "surely knew what you began! We gave you a chance to surrender, and you chose violence. This is the price the gods exact for foolish haste and hot anger. For if you should wish to throw away your life on our blades, that is one matter. But to volunteer this youth's as well, with obviously little regard for the inevitable consequences...."
"Let this be a lesson to this 'warrior,'" the cleric continues, with obvious disdain for the man, and looking to his companions now, "and for all of us. Always choose peace and life over blood and death, when there is a choice to be made."
His own flash of ire fading, the priest looks once more to the man. "I can perform rites, if you wish."
"The longer we wait here the closer those wagons get to the orcs. The caravan doesn't seem on high alert right now but eventually they'll notice to guards missing and a surprize attack won't be an option. I say we attack now before the shipment gets there but we don't have much time. We need to decide do we strike now or wait and try to devise a different plan?"
Harumn nods at Genji's statement.
"Aye, maybe we should make a show of ourselves n'hope th'they're as green as these 'uns." Harumn gestured to the weeping older warrior and the dead young man. "We kin chase 'em off without a fight..."
Harumn looked back to the body of the young guard, then back to Genji. "'Course, tha's not much to lean on. More than naught, they'll be steeled and sour 'bout us blockin' th'way. I'm with ye, lad, but le's come up with somethin' quick-like."
"Miss I'd hate to drag you into this but we could use your help," Genji turns to the halfling druid. "If you have any spells that could disable their wagons or liberate their horses we might have a chance at stoping them in time. Either way I suggest half of us run and try to get a ahead of them. We'll either be aiming arrows or trying to break a few wagon wheels whatever seems best at the time. That should leave them plenty distracted for Harumn and the second group to hit them from behind."
Genji doesn't even wait from a response from his companions as their window of opportunity is fading by the second.
"I'll go and get us started then" Genji runs off into the woods as fast as he can hoping to catch the wagons before they get too close to the orc camp."
"Right then, le's be on with it!" Harumn looks over... and UP... at Kutok, smirking. "C'mon ye huge lout! Le's be after th'wagon then."
Harumn begins moving in Genji's wake, stopping to turn to the others. "Cleric, do what ye've got to, but make it quick as th'gods'll let ye. Ajji, go wit'Genji. Th'rest o' ye kin say n'make sure this 'un doesn't try anythin' against our priest 'ere." Harumn indicated the weeping guard with a vague gesture. "'les ye want t'do yer funeral service in a wee bit? We could use th'elp, aye?"
Harumn winked, not hanging around for a response, and chased after the wagon train as well.
"Miss I'd hate to drag you into this but we could use your help," Genji turns to the halfling druid. "If you have any spells that could disable their wagons or liberate their horses we might have a chance at stoping them in time. Either way I suggest half of us run and try to get a ahead of them. We'll either be aiming arrows or trying to break a few wagon wheels whatever seems best at the time. That should leave them plenty distracted for Harumn and the second group to hit them from behind."
The halfling girl finally lets her shoulders drop and unballs her fists, nodding with a quirked half grin. "May as well. They're probably used to it by now..."
The last half of the sentence is said to his back as he charges off full tilt, crunching through the palms and ivy alongside the road. She scowls a playful scowl and then shifts her eyes to the sobbing man. "Should have my bird beck out your eyes...but later." She gently strokes the side of the beak of the hawk perched on her shoulder, hands it a gobbet of meat and flashes off into the forest after the dwarf and gnome.
Events are moving too quickly!, Isaeldan thinks to himself, scowling as his companions rush off into the brush. There is no time for the proper composure of thought!
Making an uncomfortable flash decision for the second time in one day, in just minutes even, Isaeldan looks down to the weeping man. "I go to aid my friends in battle so that we do not share more fully in your grief. I advise you stay here where we can return and tend to you after the dirty business is done. If you so choose to wander farther into the jungle... that is your responsiblity. Perhaps you can follow the wagon trail to safety, but I wouldn't risk it." With that, the priest looks to what companions haven't run off yet and tells them, "There is no time for tending wounds or saying prayers. Battle is yet at hand, and I will not abandon my companions in preference of our wounded attackers."
Gillad takes a second to decide whether to stay and guard while the rites are performed or head with the others toward the wagon. Seeing Isaeldan leave the guards, the choice seems moot, and Gillad hurries as quickly as he can to catch up to Genji and the others.
First Genji sprints off to stop the wagon, the others following behind him, until all have sprinted off. Isaeldan hurries along, last in line and trailing as they all run ahead. From behind he can hear footsteps hot behind him, and a swift and angry blow that knocks his legs out from under him, bringing the tangle of rough underbrush and wet soil up to meet his face. Dizzy he turn to face the older caravan guard, who kicks the elven cleric onto his back with a foot on his chest.
"Blame me? I knew that kid's family. His father and I were friends." he spits a gobbet into the elf's face "I'm the one's gonna' have to tell him! I'll be spit roasted by an ogre before I let you defile that boy's memory with your elf mumblings!" He holds close his sword, recovered from where he left it, the point under Isaeldan's chin. "You expected a surrender? While your friends were licking their chops deciding who would kill us, and by arrow or by blade? We did what we had to. Murderer."
The voice rings out to the slowest few of the party--too far away for Gengi and those with him to know about, and too unclear for any but perhaps Gillad to make out the words.
Gengi crushes through vines and big palm leaves, leaping and sprinting through the thick vegetation. As he passes by, all in the caravan see the disturbance. He breaks out of the jungle onto the road and takes a swing at the axle with his axe. It bites into the wood and causes splintering, but the wheel is intact. The guards and workers are caught off guard and for the moment are caught scrambling to ready themselves for action. The two leaders up atop the wagon spring into action. One drinks a potion and disappears. The other turns with a hateful scowl and levels a wand at Gengi, then raising it toward the female druid as she breaks through the foliage, releasing a stream of globes of energy. Two of them peel off toward Gengi and three toward the druid. The impacts hit the gnome like hammerblows, leaving burns clean through his armor to the skin beneath
The unfortunate druid takes the other three, two to the body and one to the side of the head, knocking her flat into the brush.
Ajjira is still in a state of indecision when Isaeldan is ambushed by the guard. Desicion made, she thinks. Quickly, she lopes stealthily toward the guard's back. As soon as she can discern the chinks in his armor, she throws a blade at one...and curses as her blade goes whistling over his head.
Hide 14, Move Silently 22. Thrown dagger (from 30 ft.) 4.
The blade goes whirling over his shoulder and he turns blade out and with a roar charges the rogue. He brings the blade up and across her chest, launching the attack just a moment to soon--too eager for blood--for it to do all it might have. Still it leaves a bloody slice across her chest from hip to shoulder skidding over rather than breaking ribs, but bleeding furiously. [9 HP]
Shaking from the disturbing event, Isaeldan rises from the ground as if in a dream. He looks at the man, seen in a new light, both pitiful and disgusting, and sees him inflict such wounds upon Ajira.
The elf hears himself speaking, almost surprising himself as he raises his bow and casts a spell calling upon his god for blessed aim.
.
.
Genji bites back a curse from the impact of the magic bolts. He whirls pulling free his bow and firing two quick shots at the wand wielding assailant. Then slipping underneath the wagon.
Isaeldan's hands shake as he pulls back on the bowstring, his mind hammering with the man's words. The sounds of combat from the wagon, distant already, are even more muted to his distracted ears. The battle between the enraged man and Ajira before him is almost silent. All the sound in the world is the elf's breathing and the resounding accusations of his attacker in his head.
Debating with himself at the speed of thought, Isaeldan comes to a dire realization. I do not want to kill this man, he thinks. But, he will kill Ajira if I do not. I must act; but he forces me to an unholy decision. Torn, the elf stands for a fraction of a second as he thinks. Then the foe slashes Ajira, and Isaeldan releases the string.
He barely even sees the effect of his shot as his arrow connects with his target. All Isaeldan can hear is the word "murderer."
Ajjira whips out a dagger from her belt, taking up a defensive stance.
Tech: AC 18 (combat expertise); attack not worth mentioning