Our story begins in, of all places, a tavern. It is named the Sitting Duck. The time is late spring in the month of Sarenith.
The Sitting Duck sits near the northern gates of Falcon Hollow, a lonely lumber town inhabited by the foolhardy, the desperate, and the brave. This tavern is a refuge of sorts. Outside there is hunger, poverty, fear and danger. Inside there is danger and upon occasion fear and often even maiming. But there is also food and drink, provided you have the coin, and that helps make it better.
It is only early afternoon. On most days of the week the place would be half empty during the afternoon but today is Sunday and even the ‘Jacks get Sunday off.
Two ragged looking serving wenches make the rounds. Each has, upon their right hand, a claw like glove. Hands that get too fresh get scratched. Some see it as a game, seeing if they are faster with their pinches than the wenches are with their scratch. These few call the game ‘cat-scratch’. Most however leave the girls well enough alone, especially after Twiggy Axehand lost a finger playing just last week..
In a corner, surrounded by friends, two half drunk lumberjacks play ‘knivesies’, attempting to stab their dagger between the fingers of their opponents. This game too can result in lost fingers but at least the winner, the first to get cut, gets a hefty portion of the money being bet on the game by the onlookers.
There is a child in the tavern. Dark haired Savram Vade goes from table to table, attempting to sell a bottled tonic. In his quiet small voice, the short nine year old boy tells each, “Won’t you please buy some tonic. Guaranteed to ward off fey spirits if drank regularly. Only two copper coins.” A few laugh and curse at him. Some buy one of the small glass vials. Most just ignore him.
The general atmosphere is festive. Festive and rowdy. Most of the patrons are determined to have a good time. Those without families, and that is the majority of them, will probably lose most of the money they made during the week on this one day. Then they will curse and grumble the rest of the week as they cut and saw for a few more coppers. Even some of those with family will do the same. The only difference is that their children will be hungry while their fathers curse and grumble and slave away for Gavil Thuldrin Kreed.
Standing in the doorway, Rall looks at the assembled crowd and imagines all the ways he could be injured in the line of duty ... Many of which don't even involve him doing anything intentionally heroic ... Several of which involve him simply walking across the room ... One of which eliminates the possibility of a Rall Kirnast Jr. ever blessing the world with his presence.
'It's days like this when it was safer being a thief' thinks Rall looking around at the regulars. 'Just smile and nod, smile and nod.'
Rall enters the tavern and circles around one time before selecting a seat with its back to the wall and a good view of most of the room if any are available.
Looking up from his latest little project (a half carved toy sword), Balnar waves Savram on. "Ah've no fear o' the little people lad. Now if you could make a tonic t'ward off penny pinchin' bosses, THAT would be worth selling, boy."
Taking another swig on his ale, he goes back to adding to the sawdust on the floor of the tavern.
With a huge grin, Fee orders a tea when the serving girl approaches.
"Rust my tankard," the halfling moans. "This place is in dire need of some cheer and hope." He looks at the waitress as she gets the other's orders and says "Hey, how come you don't put more windows in this place? You know, with some yellow curtains. Or maybe green, but a lighter green, not that foresty dark green. And you could..." he trails off as he notices she isn't even paying attantion.
"I'll have what he is having," Turnipin says to the waitress indicating Fee. The wizard then looks disaprovingly at the halfling. "Settle down my good sir." Turnipin suggests. "You're new here and not everyone is as easy going as you. If you are baator-bent on helping someone go get that man-child out of here. This is no place for a youngster." Turnipin points to Savram who is walking away from a huge barbarian whittling what appears to be a sword.
Dunham shambles along sullenly, trailing a few yards behind the party as if though he was really on his own.
He mumbles under his breath as he sees the crowd in the tavern and wonders which of these marks will put ale in his belly. Then he reminds himself that he has to be careful as to not put his companions in jeopardy. It has been a long time since he has had any "friends" and he doesn't want to risk yet again being completely alone in the world... even if they aren't dwarves.
He sits down between Turnipin and Fee. "Fill me stein, and be quick about it las, I am in no mood to be waiting on ye"
Lifting three copper pieces he motions for Savram, "Here be this weeks pay Young Master Vade. Ye saved my skin many I night with yer tonics." It was a complete lie the tonic did nothing but smell odd, but Bowen knew the family and their needs.
He sits back and relaxes as he waits for one of the wenches to bring his first mead of the day he begins whistling an old Shoanti war tune. No one ever wants to journey out into the surroundings on a Sunday and no one feels like messing with a savage whistling a war ditty.
"I'll have what he is having," Turnipin says to the waitress indicating Fee. The wizard then looks disaprovingly at the halfling. "Settle down my good sir." Turnipin suggests. "You're new here and not everyone is as easy going as you. If you are baator-bent on helping someone go get that man-child out of here. This is no place for a youngster." Turnipin points to Savram who is walking away from a huge barbarian whittling what appears to be a sword.
"Huh? Him? He seems to be fairing well in my opinion. Hey! Young man! Bring your wares over here!" Fee hollers across the tavern.
He sits back and relaxes as he waits for one of the wenches to bring his first mead of the day he begins whistling an old Shoanti war tune. No one ever wants to journey out into the surroundings on a Sunday and no one feels like messing with a savage whistling a war ditty.
Fee almost recognizes the tune the big barbarian is whistling as one he heard before. He tilts his head to the side and tries to pick it up.
"We live in the plains
Wild wheat 'n' tall grasses
Every enemy we meet
We kick their ...no that's not it."
Not waiting for Savram, Fee hops out of his chair and hurries over to the big man. "Good sir, what is that tune you are whistling?" Fee's huge, almond eyes sparkle with anticipation.
Not waiting for Savram, Fee hops out of his chair and hurries over to the big man. "Good sir, what is that tune you are whistling?" Fee's huge, almond eyes sparkle with anticipation.
Rall, from his strategically selected seat with a view of the room, fixes his eyes upon the halfling who seems to be rushing the Shoanti. 'Here's trouble,' he thinks ... 'or maybe not.'
Bowen
The door of the inn bangs violently open. A group of seven rough looking men stomp into the common room, each of them carrying a thick axe handle, makeshift clubs. A hush falls over the room. These are some of Kreed’s enforcers and if they are carrying clubs that means that someone is about to be beaten.
It's an all too common occurrence. These beatings never occurs in front of the sheriff, but he can’t be in all places at all times and those who bear witness against individual enforcers find themselves on the receiving end of other beatings. As for those enforcers testified against, they ‘disappear’ for a time only to return after all the witnesses have been silenced.
The leader of the enforcers, the only one to wear armor, strides into the room and looks around as if he owns the place. His eyes fall on the younger of the two serving wenches.
“Resmelda,” he says with a sneer, “Kabran said he’d pay good money to the man dragged you back to the Rouge Lady. Give me a snuggle and I won’t take him up on it.”
“Leave her be, Hilp,” says the older woman, flexing her right hand into a fist and back. Hilp pauses a moment, his sneer momentarily gone. It slowly returns.
“Lucky for you I have other fish to catch,” says Hilp.
Balnar
“Hey mate,” he says quietly, “We’re about to have some fun. It would look good if you helped. Gonna make a rather blunt example of the sheriff’s man.”
“Place is going to the dogs,” says one of the enforcers, a rather ugly individual with a broken nose and a torn ear, “They’ll allow anyone in here.” He looks at Fee Templefound when he says this.
“Place is going to the dogs,” says one of the enforcers, a rather ugly individual with a broken nose and a torn ear, “They’ll allow anyone in here.” He looks at Fee Templefound when he says this.
Fee turns around to see who the unfortunate fella is this mean old ugly brute is referring to.
Turnipin glances over to Resmelda and then over to the cheeky little halfling. "Dwarf, keep an eye on that rascal," he says to Dunham.
The gnome hops down and tries to position himself so that any of the thugs that tries to approach Resmelda will move with 10' of him.
Balnar gives the tough a savage grin and murmurs "Be right with you..."
Standing, he walks past the toughs and to the weapon rack, sending a wink to the tableful of gathered smallfolk once he is behind the toughs.
If no fight occurs, I will give the appearance of joining their group with plans to see if I can spoil their 'fun' with the sherrif's man
With an easy smile that does nothing to ease his looks he regards the small figure that has approached him, "Tis a night chant that we say before a battle on a night with no moon."
His' eyes flash to the door as soon as the thugs enter. He knows these ones well they have already tried to recruit him twice for "silencing" but was able to shrug off the offers.
To give Rall a slightly better chance Bowen slowly begins drumming to his whistle then starts in with the words in hopes of giving him a distraction he might need.
"Through darkness and night
You will find no respite
For warriors work their craft
On enemies bold but daft
Before the dawn can brake
You will drown in a blood lake."
With out a thought on why he slowly stands and leans against his booth nonchalantly as he sings. Out of his peripheral vision he notices with a smile that he isn't the only trying to help out. Hopefully we all won't end up dead after this, he thinks to himself.
"Through darkness and night
You will find no respite
For warriors work their craft
On enemies bold but daft
Before the dawn can brake
You will drown in a blood lake."
"No that's not the one I was thinking about..." Fee replies but then sees the tall man looking sternly at the newcomers. "Who are they and why are they so mad?" The halfling instictively feels for his sling and reaches a hand into his bullet pouch.
'I should have sat closer to the door,' Rall thinks 'Then, I could have snuck out without being noticed. I'm really losing it.'
Rall stands attempts to place himself between the head thug and the Resmalda.
With a big smile, Rall says "Excuse me, sir. Have you considered a career in law enforcement?"
As Rall stands, Hilp, the one in charge of the other enforcers drawls, “Just the man we were looking for.”
“Word from Kreed is that we got to leave the sheriff alone for the time being, don’t want to make a martyr out of him. But then there’s you, some maggot brained stunt loving son of a diseased cow that just wanders in and volunteers to help him. The sheriff seems to like you so the Gavel tells us that if we like we can beat on you all we want. Then we figure the sheriff will have an understanding of just how the land lies.”
As Hilp talks, his men slowly move towards where Rall is standing. “You gonna jaw him to death boss,” one of them asks as he taps his axe handle in a meaty paw.
“Patience there,” says Hilp and then he turns back to Rall and asks, “So you want to die in here or should we take it outside?”
"Word from Kreed is that we got to leave the sheriff alone for the time being, don’t want to make a martyr out of him. But then there’s you, some maggot brained stunt loving son of a diseased cow that just wanders in and volunteers to help him."
That's twice now that tall fool has been disrespectful towards the wee folk, Turnipin thinks bitterly. Some respect is in order. The mage begins to circle closer to the leader, mumbling a little colorful spell.
Hilp's outfit turns a bright shade of pink.
"Are you sure, sir, that you are comfortable being seen on the streets dressed like that? You are a braver man than I! By all means let us take this outside," Rall heads for the door hoping that whatever accounts for the sudden costume change will keep at least one of this number from pursuing this matter.
Hilp's outfit turns a bright shade of pink.
Suddenly aware that the thug may not think kindly of Turnipin's fashon sense, the gnome begins to recall his innate ghost sound spell.
"AAAARRRGGGH!!!"
Before Rall can make it to the door, Hilp attacks.
Unless there is a weapon in Hilp's hand, Rall is attacking unarmed. If there is a weapon in his hand, Rall will draw his longsword and attack holding his longsword two-handed.
Turnipin backs up a little bit and cups his hands over his mouth as he intonates the spell.
Dunham steps back quietly and attempts to remain out of sight of Hilp.
As a standard action he attempts to discretely draw his rapier and ready himself to enter the fray if it appears to be necessary. As a move action he attempts to position himself in a flanking position to Hilp and one of his comrades.
Initiative roll:
If needed Move Silently:
Initiative roll:
Initiative roll:
When Hilp's clothes turn pink Fee squeals in delight. "That is absolutely the most amazing thing I've ever seen!" He says. When tempers flare and combat ensues -
- Fee gets out his sling and casts Magic Stone on three of his bullets.
Simple charge and swing, no power attack.
Brawl at the Sitting Duck: Round 1
___________________________________
Hilp and his 6 enforcers: Intiative 21
Turnipin Acorncap: Initiative 20
Fee Templefound: Initiative 20
Rall Kirnast: Initiative 19
Durnham: Initiative 18 (?)
Balnar Frostblade: Initiative 12; Raging rd 1
Bowen Quaid: ?
The room erupts with an explosion of movement and shouts. Chairs are thrown back as men jump to their feet, a few are already heading out the door.
Hilp raises his axe handle as if to brain Rall but then stops in mid swing, confusion plain on his face. Two of his comrades however seem to have no such problem and they swing their makeshift clubs at Rall.
Attacks: (1d20+2=6, 1d20+2=13) Damage: (1d4+2=4)
One swings wild but the other’s club connects solidly with Rall’s arm. Meanwhile the other thugs swing around, looking threatening at the rest of the room. “The rest of you just stay out of this!” one of them yells.
The sound of weapons being drawn sounds from erupt near the door and the sound of a man yelling, “Attack from behind boys!”
Fee, largely unnoticed, enchants his sling bullets.
Rall, , draws his sword and plunges it into the startled Hilp.
Durnham manages to move himself into a position that would be flanking Hilp if it were not for the burly thug with the axehandle standing at Hilp’s back, but the point becomes moot as Balnar rushes between the thugs and brings his weapon crashing down onto the man’s head. Hilp falls to the floor, sliding off of Rall’s sword.
Two thugs take an AoO on Balnar: (1d20+4, 1d20+2=[16, 4], [8, 2])
As Balnar plunges into their midst, two of the thugs react. “That was a mistake!” one of them yells as he swings his small club into Balnar’s back.
Balnar
Balnar
BaB +1, Str +4, Charge +2 = attack bonus +7
Greataxe(large) +3 3d6+6 20 x3 PA ratio: 1BaB:2Damage
Greataxe(large) +5 3d6+9 20 x3 (Raging)
Turnip seems pleased at the way things are progressing. The little mage continues to position himself out of harm's way while waving his hands in intricate little circles. He casts mage hand and uses the embodied force to tap the thug attacking Rall on the back of his weapon arm shoulder, hoping to distract the fool.
Turnipin
Fee skitters around the scrambling crowd to find a good shot and flings one of his enchanted stones at the closest thug.
He squeals in frustration as the stone slips too early and hits the ceiling.
Turnipin
** spoiler omitted **
Turnipin quickly scans the room, trying to locate the spellcaster.
Initiative 1d20+2=19
Bowen moves to help Balnar by flanking one of the men and draws his dagger as he moves in.
Brawl at the Sitting Duck: Round 1
Rall, , draws his sword and plunges it into the startled Hilp.
1d8+2 = [5,2] = (7)
Brawl at the Sitting Duck: Round 1
Rall, , draws his sword and plunges it into the startled Hilp.1d8+2 = [5,2] = (7)
Brawl at the Sitting Duck: Round 2
The 6 enforcers: Initiative 21
Turnipin Acorncap: Initiative 20
Fee Templefound: Initiative 20
Rall Kirnast: Initiative 19
Bowen Quaid: Initiative 19
Durnham: Initiative 18
Balnar Frostblade: Initiative 12;
Two of the enforcers, upon seeing Hilp laying on the floor, turn and begin fleeing out the door, along with many of the patrons. The two attacking Rall though continue to press the attack but Rall, now on his guard manages to duck and weave and parry enough to block them.
Enforcer's attack: (1d20+2=3, 1d20+2=13)
One of the toughs, seeing Bowen approaching with a blade, tries to brain the large ranger, wielding his club with two hands. Bowen just barely manages to avoid the blow.
Enforcer attacks Bowen: (1d20+2=15)
The remaining thug fighting is the one who struck Balnar to begin with. He swings again but the barbarian is not to be caught of guard again and this blow misses.
Enforcer attacks Balnar: (1d20+2=3)
Turnipin
Fee's shot does indeed smash off the ceiling, flying dangerously close to a lit lamp. And Rall's blow fails to connect.
With iron in his eyes Bowen does a quick jab with his dagger towards the man swinging his club at him.
1d20+4, 1d4+3 =8, 5
Brawl at the Sitting Duck: Round 2
Since it looks like the battle is more or less over, Turnipin wanders over toward Fee while being careful to avoid any stray blows.
Fee watches the leader go down in horror. The guy was loud, obnoxious, and asking for a lesson in being nice, but he didn't deserve to die.
Oh, Cayden Cailean, help me, he thinks to himself. Fee weaves through the panicing patrons to the fallen Hilp. The little cleric tries to see if the man is still alive.
If the thug is hanging in there, Fee prays for healing on the man.
Brawl at the Sitting Duck: Round 3
The 3 enforcers: Initiative 21
Turnipin Acorncap: Initiative 20
Fee Templefound: Initiative 20
Rall Kirnast: Initiative 19
Bowen Quaid: Initiative 19
Durnham: Initiative 18
Balnar Frostblade: Initiative 12
Balnar swings his leather covered axe-head at the man beating on him and connects solidly with the man’s head. There is a snap and a crack and the man falls backwards, striking the floor, unmoving. He falls does not go unnoticed. One of the two attacking Rall see’s Balnar coming out of the corner of his eye and moving back and away from Rall, he strikes out at Balnar, trying to catch the other off-guard but Balnar easily blocks the blow.
Enforcer attacks Balnar: (1d20+2=11)
Rall is not so fortunate and as he is struck up alongside the head, he falls, next to the bleeding body of Hilp.
Enforcer attacks Rall: (1d20+2=14); damage on Rall: (1d4+2=3)
The third Enforcer remaining in the fight, going against Bowen, club against dagger, is untrained, overanxious and unable to land a blow. Bowen manages to duck weave and parry just enough to keep the solid wood handle from connecting with his flesh.
Enforcer attacks Bowen: (1d20+2=13)
Turnipin
Fee