Jugger was too busy wiping the scarred man's blood from his eyes and face to notice the balding man's attack.
Jagor follows Clifford's lead down the stairs and around to the oak tree.
Jagor follows Clifford's lead down the stairs and around to the oak tree.
The archer elf takes another shot; this one is aimed at Makoa, at least in theory, but is as effective as all the previous ones have been, which is to say, not at all.
As Clifford reaches the upper branches of the tree, he sees a broad deck built atop the chapel roof, fenced in by rickety boards badly in need of paint. Atop the deck stands a small shack-like structure caged with wooden slats and stained with the white of bird droppings. The sound of pigeons cooing comes from inside it.
There is a door that leads into the second floor, and a window through which Clifford can see the back of an elf's head.
Once again, Jugger shimmers out of focus, reappearing 5' behind his previous location. Immediately upon reappearing, he begins a prayer, "Most Beautiful Desna, let yer wings wash over this'umble servant, and repair th'wounds he has suffered at the hands o' these petty criminals and lousy pickpockets. Please heal me, so that my blood will cease dirtyin' th'floors o' this noble hostel, and ease my pain, so that I may in turn bring it down upon the heads o' my enemies."
About halfway through his prayer, a faint swirl of glimmering dust and laughter surrounds Jugger, and his wounds seal themselves a tiny bit. The rest of his prayer is either grandstanding or.. ok, it's grandstanding.
Once his prayer is complete, he takes a step forward, returning to his original position.
Ghorum waits, mace at the ready, for a chance to move in. Hezekiah looks anxiously around, keeping an eye open for anyone approaching from behind.
For Jagor's next turn:
Perception 1d20+9=13
First climb check failed: Climb 1d20+2=12
Second climb check success:
Climb 1d20+2=22
Makoa's earthbreaker slams into the patchcloaked figure with bone-breaking force, slapping him into the wall like a rag doll. Though the man staggers, he doesn't fall; nevertheless, it seems clear that he would rather not finish this fight. He turns and runs, dashing up the hallway and through the door at the end. In moments he has appeared on the deck outside, where he seems shocked to see Clifford standing. With little hesitation, however, he leaps over the ratty fence, sliding down the roof and jumping over the edge to land a few feet away from Jagor in the backyard.
The balding guy looks horrified as the cloaked figure runs past, looking with terror at Makoa before ducking back into the room he came out of and slamming the door.
Jagor steps toward the fleeing man and attacks defensively.
Nonlethal unarmed strike 1d20-2=17, damage 1d6+2=7
Though some magic attempts to push Jagor's fist away from the patched-cloaked man's body, the blessing of Cayden Cailean is strong enough to help Jagor overcome the protection and deliver a solid blow. The man rocks, nearly going to a knee, but still does not quite fall. He holds his arm at an awkward angle, and Jagor can see blood dripping from wounds all across his body.
The elf turns to watch the man in the cloak run out, spots Clifford on the roof, and pulls open the window to fire a shot at the halfling. Though no longer trying to shoot past his allies, the elf's arrow still goes wide.
Clifford runs to the edge and jumps to a case near the man (K16) Acrobatics 15
(it may give an AoO to the man )
He Shouts : " Guys , we have him , continue inside !"
He then strikes unsuccessfully not used to such strenuous activities Attack 4
Jugger steps forward and moves to the corner of the hallway , and lowers his weapons to his side. With himself between the Elf and the half-orc, he tries to negotiate with the bowman.
"Would be a good idea t'put down yer bow, lad. Yer boss's run off, an' th'rest o' yer friends're diein', dead, or wishin' they'd been born tailors. Ye could shoot me, aye, and it would likely put me t'dreamin'. But then ye'd haveta deal with the angry half-orc behind me. Of course, seein' as ye haven't been able t'hit a single thing ye've aimed at, I imagine yer just as likely t'miss me and make the half-orc even madder.
So really, yer best option is t'give it a rest and set the bow down."
The elf does not lower his bow, but he does shout back, "What's in it for me?"
Ghorum reaches out to touch Makoa's shoulder, murmuring, "Your guidance, Adventurous One, on this worthy soul."
Hezekiah will try to aid Jugger's efforts at a peaceful solution by casting Charm Person on the elf.
Hezekiah will try to aid Jugger's efforts at a peaceful solution by casting Charm Person on the elf.
The elf grins at Hezekiah. "Hey, man! How's it going? This guy your buddy?"
As Makoa moves into the doorway, he sees a small, dank room, stinking of mildew and lit only by a single greasy window and the light that spills in through the open door across the room. The room's simple furnishings include a worn mattress, some crate-furniture, and three rusted birdcages, beneath which he can see some bags of birdseed. There's a desk with some pens, a roll of fine parchment, and a magnifying glass leaning over it. In the room are two men - one is the teenager that Jugger thoroughly clocked earlier, and the other is a decrepit old man, his rapidly blinking eyes filmed with cataracts, who is trying with no real success to dab at the young man's wounds. "What's going on out there, Balston?" he asks the boy, just before Makoa bursts in and swings his hammer at "Balston." Balston leaps to his feet with a startled yell, accidentally knocking the old man to the floor; the move is effective, since Makoa misses, but the teen wobbles badly on unsteady feet.
The man in the patched cloak rolls, leaps, and dodges past Jagor, leaving neither the half-orc nor Clifford with an opportunity to attack him as he darts out the gate and up the path between the mission and the building next door.
Balston ducks out the door , limping across the roof toward the branches that overhang the building.
The man in the patched cloak rolls, leaps, and dodges past Jagor, leaving neither the half-orc nor Clifford with an opportunity to attack him as he darts out the gate and up the path between the mission and the building next door.
Balston ducks out the door , limping across the roof toward the branches that overhang the building.
Jagor rushes after the escaping man and overtakes him, passes him, and stops to block the alleyway .
Jagor runs to try to cut the cloaked figure off, concerning himself less with his safety and more with the need to prevent the man from escaping.
Upstairs, the elf lowers his bow, studying Jugger with an odd mixture of curiosity and hostility. "Why'd you come busting into our place, anyway?" he asks.
"Why'd you come busting into our place, anyway?"
Jugger glances over his shoulder. "Er.. Yeah! Me'n.. him go way back. I came t'this hostel to find someone, and next thing I know, the bell starts ringing, and the man in the rags bolts out of the room. I follow him up the stairs, and suddenly I'm bein' stabbed and shot at.
I say we all head to the pub and sort this all out over a pint or six. You, me, our buddy over there, the dwarf.. hells, even the half-orcs can come along, if they promise not to eat anyone..."
"What d'ye say?"
Moving to Q20 (short legs ....)
"Me tired."
Hezekiah will be chatting up his new friend, trying to pass the time until Jagor and Cliff get back. "I'm sure there has been a misunderstanding here. We don't want any trouble, do we? We just popped in to deliver a message to a guy named Kreun. Would you happen to know where he could be found?" He glances sideways at Jugger, trying to size him up. Hezekiah is clearly out of his depth here and Makoa, while comforting to have by his side, isn't going to be of much help.
The man in the cloak somersaults past Jagor, diving out into the street and running northward .
The teenager starts climbing the tree down toward the back courtyard.
The man in the cloak somersaults past Jagor, diving out into the street and running northward .
The teenager starts climbing the tree down toward the back courtyard.
The half-orc mutters under his breath, "Jagor tired of this game." He turns and runs after the man and attempts to tackle him.
That's without the charge bonus, but includes my Improved Grapple feat bonus. I presume that fails considering his CMB is unlikely to be that low. Am I prone?
That's without the charge bonus, but includes my Improved Grapple feat bonus. I presume that fails considering his CMB is unlikely to be that low. Am I prone?
That's without the charge bonus, but includes my Improved Grapple feat bonus. I presume that fails considering his CMB is unlikely to be that low. Am I prone?
Jagor will continue the race one more round, trying to maneuver in front of the man again. "Stop, Jagor only trying to talk to you!"
Jagor will continue the race one more round, trying to maneuver in front of the man again. "Stop, Jagor only trying to talk to you!"
The man ignored Jagor's pleading, clearly looking for another way past the half-orc.
Upstairs, the elf lowers his bow, shrugging slightly. "Pint sounds good to me," he says. "But if you're looking for the boss, well..." he grins. "Looks like you and your friends just missed him."
Back downstairs, Clifford runs around the corner into the street. Realizing he's losing ground thanks to his short legs, he tries to help out Jagor's attempt to nonlethally stop the man.
Nonlethal shortbow attack (1d20=10, 1d4-1=0)
Unfortunately, the arrow shot is wasted.
Upstairs, the elf lowers his bow, shrugging slightly. "Pint sounds good to me," he says. "But if you're looking for the boss, well..." he grins. "Looks like you and your friends just missed him."
"I s'pose we'll haveta wait for him to come back, if we want to speak with him... Brother dwarf, maybe you'n our half-orc friend there can go downstairs an' see if the good priest has some wine about?"
Looking to the spell caster, Jugger continues, "We'll stay up here with our new friend and wait fer Kreun to come back. Maybe we could wait in his room?"
"I s'pose we'll haveta wait for him to come back, if we want to speak with him... Brother dwarf, maybe you'n our half-orc friend there can go downstairs an' see if the good priest has some wine about?"
Looking to the spell caster, Jugger continues, "We'll stay up here with our new friend and wait fer Kreun to come back. Maybe we could wait in his room?"
The elf chuckles. "I somehow doubt he's coming back anytime soon, buddy. Specially after the smack the big guy gave 'em with that hammer."
Ghorum nods at Jugger' suggestion. "Good idea," he replies, and heads down the stairs.
As soon as he does, though, the skinny guy crouched in the corner takes off running too, headed toward the end of the hallway and around the corner.