Bri watches as the remaining beast take off and then sees the battle still ongoing, Bri grabs an arrow and takes aim trying to be careful not to hit Verzale.
Bri's bolt streaks towards the monster and passes expertly under Verzales arm but bounces off the creatures scales.
Roderick grabs another arrow and fires it at the creature but the arrow flies wide.
With a snarl the creature turns and runs into the darkness fleeing through the trees.
AoO with flame blade (1d20 5=24, 1d8 1=8)
confirm crit flame blade (1d20 5=21)
crit damage (1d8 1=5)
Hurling himself headlong after red horns, Verzale swings yet again, hair and blade both incandescant with fury.
In goblin
"I told you. Wrong day. Wrong Druid."
Creed runs after the creature and tries to keep up with Verzale, hoping to close and strike the mysterious creature with his sword.
Verzales flaming blade slices through the creatures back and it collapes to the ground in a spray of blood just as Creed thunders through the trees.
As red horns falls, Verzale closes his fist and the flaming blade snaps out. He turns to greet Creed with a rueful grin.
"Should have tried to keep him alive for questioning, but he riled me. Want to take a look for any handy gadgets he's got? I need to tend to Dagmar."
The druid holds out his arms to the white wolf and she jumps up to greet him.
"Hah - my one and only. Let's take a look at you."
Verzale croons at his companion as he swiftly runs his hands over her legs and jaw searching for any signs of damage. Seeing none, he looks over at the wagon and his companions.
"Anyone needing help over there? Nice work with that bow Bri." he comments sidelong to the halfling girl. "Glad I didn't know how good when we met."
Scardd, after examining his wounds, spits on the fallen Bugbear, "That hurt furvee deeviil." The Warlock starts kicking it around and searching it. He takes his time examining weapons, searching pockets and pouches, and removing the armor to examine the skin for tattoos or markings. Although the Half-Orc will not say, on a close inspection, one can tell that he is badly hurt.
And Tuon winces at the bugbear's vicious wound. He also takes a moment to check the arrow graze on his shoulder too.
"Verzale, Scarrd is wounded," he shouts.
Routinely, the mercenary checks over the bodies for clues and treasure. He strips the bodies of anything of value, including armour and weapons, throwing it all in the wagon.
"Nasty looking slice he took out of you friend. Let me look."
Verzale expertly examines the wound and chants a few words over the oozing mess of diced flesh.
Under his eyes, the edges of the wound knit together and although there's still a lot of angry scar tissue, it's clear it will heal well.
"Count it as a trophy Scarrd." says Verzale, grimacing slightly.
"Count it as a trophy Scarrd." says Verzale, grimacing slightly.
Scardd nods, “Among many,” he says as he holds out his arms to show many similar marks. “Thank zu. Vy feel better now.”
The Half-Orc moves back to the Bugbear to examine the body. He pulls out a small bottle filled with fluid. He holds it up to eye level and peers into its depths. Reaching deep into his soul, he wills his power around the bottle.
Scardd then follows Tuon’s example and tosses six gold coins and the Bugbear’s sword into the cart. As the armor is stripped, Scardd stops in mid action. He stands and the armor slips from his grasp with a ‘thrump’ to the ground. “Look,” Scardd points and stares.
Anyone turning to look at the Bugbear, sees the goblinoid’s bare chest. On the chest, over its heart, is a scar. The scar is in the shape of a demon’s hand.
Scardd, his mouth slightly agape, slowly loosens his leather armor and shirt and shows his chest. The Half-Orc bears the same mark.
"I got ten gold, what did you get Sca-" Tuon's mouth drops open in mid-sentence.
He looks around for Skiddifig and Creed.
Verzale stays a little back from Tuon, but looks hard at the mark on Scarrd's chest.
Spellcraft to try and identify the mark - a very long shot, but it's that or Know(Nat). (1d20 8=24)
Verzale stays a little back from Tuon, but looks hard at the mark on Scarrd's chest.
Spellcraft to try and identify the mark - a very long shot, but it's that or Know(Nat). (1d20 8=24)
"Our little horned friend was nothing more than a goblin in very wicked-looking armor," says Creed emerging from the forest, now back to his own size. He tosses the armor, a scroll tube, and three gold coins into the wagon before noticing everyone's mouth-agape reaction to Scardd.
"What?" Says Creed when he notices the shape of the mark on the Half-Orc's chest. "Well...that's a bit of a surprise, yeah? Haw!"
Without another comment, he turns. "Not that they deserve it, but we should pile and burn these buggers' bodies." He then points to the dead Bugbear, "Him, I'd tie to a stake and stand him near the road as a sign to any more would-be ambushers, yeah?"
"Bury them. No more fire in this forest. It's seen enough damage. I'll dig. Bugbear boy can be decoration, that's a good plan."
"Agreed." Creed helps Verzale with the remains.
Skidd relaxes now that the battle is over, and thinks, well that was tough. Now, more than ever, I think I'd best try to work out that spell.
He gets out the orchid and thinks hard. Suddenly, he looks up. "That's it." He breathes, "I understand it now."
DM:
After a few moments of initial shock, Scardd slowly comes out of his contemplative stupor. His mouth slowly closes, he shakes he head, and briefly eyes Tuon, "No Anzwerz, but a path iizz given." Nodding in thanks to the warrior for his understanding and friendship, he turns and watches Creed and Verzale gather the bodies. Eventually, the Half-Orc makes his way over to the cart and looks over the gathered loot. Searching deep within his soul once again, where his dark energies swirl and flow, he studies the items.
With everyone working together under the moon light the goblins are buried and the bugbear is hung by his feet in a tree near the road as the grissily warning. The last shovel of dirt is patted down a the night passes it zenith.
Creed approaches Tuon after the work of digging the grave is done. His eyes widen as he sees the man's wounds. "You are wounded! Why did you not say something before?"
Creed casts CLW on Tuon (1d8+3=10).
Still holding his holy symbol, Creed turns and asks, "Who else is still injured, for Kord's sake?"
Scardd cloaks his soul and pulls his energies away from the cart. Nodding his head, he looks up at the starry night. He sucks in a deep clean breath of fresh air.
Taking his eyes from the sky, the Warlock looks at his companions, “Do zu zhiink thiizz wazzz all of zem?” He waives a hand at the dirt mound and the hanging Bugbear. “Ve found out zat a dog attacked ze caravan alzo and ze Dwarf zaid zat zhe vould like ze body of her friend back. Maybe Roderrriiiick can track zem to zheir lair. Vhat do zu all zhink? Ve could alwayzzz make camp here for ze night and zee iiff more zhow up.”
........ Creed turns and asks, "Who else is still injured, for Kord's sake?"
"Thanks Creed. I can fight well enough but that helps." He eyes Verzale for any comments.
"The dogs could have been the Krenshar Bri and I took down in the forest. There's a body there. We should return him to Keeper's Dale.
The Krenshar came from somewhere. Looking for the lair's a good plan."
Finally, Verzale turns to Tuon.
"Look, I know you don't like me. I understand that and I partly understand why. What I don't understand is that you'd jeopardise a whole party because you're too proud to take offered help. So, next time you're injured, if I can heal you, I'm going to. Whether you want it or not. That's how it works."
Then he looks at Creed.
"You're the one with the priestly skills. Want to come and offer the poor soul in the woods some comforting words before we carry him back? I think he'd be grateful. Whoever he was, he's not resting easy."
"You're the one with the priestly skills. Want to come and offer the poor soul in the woods some comforting words before we carry him back? I think he'd be grateful. Whoever he was, he's not resting easy."
"Haw!" Creed snorts, "Comforting words for the dead? Will he hear them, I wonder?" Creed turns towards the forest. "Come!" he booms, "let us talk to your dead man, yeah? Ha!"
"Ha! I only know that if I'd been gnawed by Krenshars, a few comforting words wouldn't hurt. Let's go. It shouldn't take long, there's not a lot left to talk to."
Keeping Dagmar with him, Verzale goes back to the body in the forest with Creed.
Verzale and Creed move off into the forest. Their discussion of the dead body has Scardd thinking. He moves over to stare at the hanging Bugbear and the mark on its chest. He unconsciously places a hand on his own chest and rubs at his heart. Staring at the creature, his mind wonders. If things were different, would that be him hanging there.
Tuon's face mottles.
His eyes flash lavender and grunting through gritted teeth, he says, "heal up!"
The last wound closes. Pointing at Verzale he gives his trademark death's head grin, "save your healing for those that need it, you fool!"
DM Spoiler
He stomps off laughing to himself.
Verzale snorts slightly and shrugs. "That's me told. And shown. Good stuff."
Creed gives a grunt of disapproval at Tuon's rebuff of Verzale. As the two walk off into the forest, he says to the ranger, “Don’t take it personal, that Tuon, he’ll have your back in a pinch.”
"When a man doesn't like wolves and meets a druid who may have cursed a friend of his, he's going to be touchy."
Verzale shrugs and smiles at Creed with some resignation.
"Don't worry about it. It may take a while. All I can really do is keep Dagmar out of his reach. I've got a temper and I can protect myself. She's the trusting type."
Moving away from the hanging Bugbear and his own thoughts, Scardd finds his Ranger companion, "Zo, Roderiiick, any zight of a trail zheze beazzztiezzz left?"
Moving away from the hanging Bugbear and his own thoughts, Scardd finds his Ranger companion, "Zo, Roderiiick, any zight of a trail zheze beazzztiezzz left?"
Roderick looks at the half-orc, "I don't know if the krenshar left a trail but the raiders did take a wagon and that should be pretty easy to track. I think we should start there after we recover the body."
Scardd nods and moves off into the forest, following Verzale and Creed's path, to aid with the body.
Bri wanders after Tuon somehow feeling safe with him. As they group passes the wolf like creature Bri gives it a little kick and manages to stub her toe but doesn't say anything to anybody. Bri goes to help with the body even somehow she doesn't feel like she will be much help.
"So what happened here?"
The group walks through the trees and enters the clearing. You silently wrap the mangled body in a canvas from the wagon and bear it back to the road. Roderick takes a quick look around and easily finds the tracks from the stolen wagon.
"The tracks lead into the trees to an old road hidden by some brush and trees. I think we should camp here for the rest of the night and get on the trail early in the morning." Roderick says as he walks out of the trees.
Scardd nods to Roderick, "Zo, ve make camp for ze night? I vill take Meeedle vatch. Vy zee better in ze dark. Vake me in a few hourzzzz."
Scardd will aid in finding a spot and setting camp.
Verzale puts his woodland skills to use surveying the area for a good place to camp.
Spot, Survival and listen checks (1d20 7=25, 1d20 9=13, 1d20 7=27)
"We'd better set a watch. I know Tuon's not going to like this, but a wolf is a better scout than any humanoid born. I'll take my turn with Dagmar and anyone else who wants to keep an eye on both of us." he says placidly.
Bri never seems to do well with idol hands so she goes wandering about trying to see if she can find anything to help the group out.
Once camp is found by Vezale and her pet, the mercenary tends his weapons and armour. He makes sure that the gear is holding out fine and then sets about putting a sharp edge on the longsword.
If wood is needed, the soldier goes off to collect what fallen branches and the like he can find.
Once camp is found by Vezale and his pet, the mercenary tends his weapons and armour. He makes sure that the gear is holding out fine and then sets about putting a sharp edge on the longsword.
If wood is needed, the soldier goes off to collect what fallen branches and the like he can find.
After tending to the needs of the dead, Creed offers to take first watch. He stands, greatsword resting on shoulder, and slowly looks in all directions as the others bed down.
Verzale drops into his accustomed light sleep, ready to take the next watch when Creed wakes him. Dagmar curls herself protecively beside him, head resting on his chest, orange eyes alert and watchful.
Once his equipment is sorted, Tuon takes a walk around the camp perimeter. Then he returns to Creed and stays with him for a while.
"Do you think they'll be back tonight?" he asks poking the earth with a sharp twig.
Once his equipment is sorted, Tuon takes a walk around the camp perimeter. Then he returns to Creed and stays with him for a while.
"Do you think they'll be back tonight?" he asks poking the earth with a sharp twig.
Creed shrugs. "Animals feed when they're hungry," he says by way of an answer. After a pause, Creed adds an observation, "You don't like wolves much, Tuon."
Tuon looks around to see where Rodrick is. Its a reflex.
"Yeah, a diseased one just like that....wolf ripped up my family some. I survived thanks to Roderick." The mercenary waves a hand across his face of scars.
"I... well it was rough burying our mother. She was....." He throws the twig away.
And looks at Creed venomously, "that wolf makes me remember things I keep buried. No one should trust such a beast. They're killers."
The small twig snaps and he throws the bits away.
And looks at Creed venomously, "that wolf makes me remember things I keep buried. No one should trust such a beast. They're killers."
"Ah, save your poisonous looks for one that deserves 'em, yeah?" Says Creed, annoyed.
"That dog isn't your enemy, and you know it. The things you'd keep buried, they're the killers. They'll eat you from the inside before Verzale's wolf'd even nibble your nuts."
"Look," says Creed, calmer, "I'll not pretend to be the smartest man in the world, and I never knew my mother to bury her or no. But, you're not the only man to suffer loss, and treating a man and his wolf like dirt isn't likely to change one thing for the better...and it's likely to change a-many for the worse." He adds a firm, "hmm," as punctuation.