2nd round Initiative:
Goblins: 21(fired on Mal)
Aquaman: 16 (subdual attack, Adelaine)
Adelaine: 12 (down)
Silas: 10 (throwing dagger at Aquaman)
Will: 9 (delay, diviner's fortune on Mal)
Zareby and Malatar: 8 (Z- ray of frost Aquaman, M- move, attack A)
Marten: 7 (sleep on goblins)
From the left side of the patio, Will can hear Silas' tart remark as a dagger streaks toward the fishman.
"Dear William, I am disappointed but not surprised. So many eligible women and here I find you mucking about with fish monsters. Tut, tut."
Thrown dagger vs. fishman:
It seems the priest spent more time on his acerbic remark than on his thrown as the dagger flies wide of the mark, narrowly missing "Ferdinand".
Mal makes a wide, careful circle around the fish creature and makes a powerful swipe at the monster. But its slippery flesh and reflexes cause the blade to skim harmlessly from its back. It adjusts its grip on the trident and turns toward Mal as Will places a hand once more on the warrior's shoulder, imparting that strange clairvoyant vision. "Ferdinand's" ray of frost is particularly well-aimed, going right for the creature's ugly maw, turning the existing moisture to a rime of frost... but the beast seems to barely notice.
From next to Silas, the young actor, Marten announces:
"Such lovely stars, benign, bedight; enough to make even a goblin rest his weary brow, this night."
The archer goblins blink and sway...
Will save:
One hits the floor, snoring while the other shakes its head and takes aim once more.
“’Bout time your cleric friend showed up,” Mal muttered, his quips and comments hiding his nervousness at facing this strange, woman-stealing monster of the deep … and his quiet fear that he will not be up to the task of defeating it.
He waits for an opening, then dashes in again to strike – silently praying that the creature’s trident does not bring him low first.
"Ferdinand" looks on in shock as his spell does nothing to the fishman. After weighing his options for a moment, Zareby lunges at the fishman, claws first.
Third Round
Goblins: 21(fleeing)
Aquaman: 16 (subdual attack, Mal)
Adelaine: 12 (down)
Silas: 10 (channel positive energy, healing)
Will: 9 (delay, diviner's fortune on Mal?)
Zareby and Malatar: 8 (Z- claw attack on Aquaman flanking, M- attack A, flanking)
Marten: 7 (inspire courage)
At the use of magic and the death or incapacitation of its companions, the remaining goblin flees into the dark.
The fishman croaks in irritation, striking out at Malatar with the haft of his trident.
"Calistria, renew our viciousness as we swear our vengeance!", intones Silas, a wave of healing energy washing over all of you... including the fishman, unfortunately.
The fish monster ducks and weaves at Mal's assault, though his evasive action leaves him open to "Ferdinand's" initial swipe, though it fends off the sorcerer's continued attack with well placed parries.
Standing aside, Marten launches into a soliloquy, exhorting his comrades to greater acts of heroism.
Mal grunts as the haft of the trident whacks him a bruising blow about the knees, then blinks in surprise as a warming balm washes over him.
“You’re surrounded fish-face, and your reinforcement’s fled,” the warrior growls, not sure if his opponent will understand him. “Throw down your weapon.”
"Calistria, renew our viciousness as we swear our vengeance!", intones Silas, a wave of healing energy washing over all of you... including the fishman, unfortunately.
1d6
Will follows the warrior, the familiar bulk of his broad back somehow comforting, despite it lack of usual heavy armor. The grin on his face as Silas' voice comes to him from the edge of the patio is unmistakable.
"Yes, well,... YOU already had all my first choices of dance partners wrapped up! Sometimes us beggars can't be choosy!" Will quips back, and rolls his eyes as the cleric's shot misses the fish-man by league, and 'Ferdinand' by not nearly so much.
"If you practiced your aim as much as your pickup lines, THAT would have been a lot more impressive!" Will says sotto voice. He winces as the fish-man's trident makes a nasty sound on Mal's knee. He touches Mal's back and will's the warrior to see, if only briefly.
Goblins: 21(fleeing)
Aquaman: 16 (withdraw 40 ft. toward the surf)
Adelaine: 12 (down)
Silas: 10 (healing Adelaine)
Will: 9 (delay, diviner's fortune on Mal)
Zareby and Malatar: 8 (Z-?, M- pursue?)
Marten: 7 (throw dagger)
The fishman issues a watery growl and adopts a defensive posture, carefully backing away from the adventurers toward the surf.
Silas laughs at Will's remark.
"Always shall you be a beggar, William, until you act like a king. After an apparent act of chivalry, for instance, the lady shall be eating from the palm of your hand..."
With that, Silas kneels to the prostrate Lady Albercroft and prays to Calistria for her fickle aid, laying a hand on the unconscious noblewoman's brow. The bruise left by the fish monster subsides a bit under his touch.
"Back to the depths, creature! But here is a parting gift!", shouts the young actor as he flings a dagger at the fleeing fishman.
Despite the dark, the distance and what is clearly not a skilled hand, Marten's thrown dirk manages to graze the creature in its flight.
Zareby raises his hand towards the fleeing fishman and fires a bolt of magic at it's back.
Silas laughs at Will's remark.
"Always shall you be a beggar, William, until you act like a king. After an apparent act of chivalry, for instance, the lady shall be eating from the palm of your hand..."
With that, Silas kneels to the prostrate Lady Albercroft and prays to Calistria for her fickle aid, laying a hand on the unconscious noblewoman's brow. The bruise left by the fish monster subsides a bit under his touch.
1d8+1
Groaning a bit, Addy regains consciousness and sits up. Her hand goes straight to her temple, where a shooting pain, and resultant massive headache, bring some more stars to her eyes.
"My thanks," she says looking up at Silas. She takes a quick look around trying to get her bearings, and notices the foes seemingly fleeing.
“No you don’t,” growls Malatar, and, gripping his sword tightly in both hands, he charges off after the creature, the torn cloak of his barbarian costume flapping behind him.
Mal can feel the shock of contact ring up his blade to his arms as the fishman parries his charge, using the pitted iron to throw Mal's guard wide...
Goblins: 21(fleeing)
Aquaman: 16 (attack Mal, move thirty feet toward the surf)
Adelaine: 12 (?)
Silas: 10 (flirting with Adelaine)
Will: 9 (?)
Zareby and Malatar: 8 (?)
Marten: 7 (run after Mal, throw rock)
... and attacks with the sharp barb of its trident. He punctures three wounds in Mal's chest; fortunately, the barbarian costume manages to keep it from going too deep.
The fishman continues to back toward the surf.
Meanwhile...
"You should thank Calistria, dear lady, for I am only her humble vessel. But I shall accept your gratitude nonetheless. It appears your companions have the monster on the run. Please, allow me to help you up.."
Marten stares down the beach after the monster and Malatar in pursuit.
"I'm glad you're all right, my lady. But I think the barbarian needs some assistance... though I can't imagine how much help I'll be without a weapon..."
He picks up a largish rock and runs down the beach toward the melee there, throwing the missile at the fishman. The stone elicits a watery grunt as it strikes the beast's shoulder.
Grasping Silas's arm as she gets up, Addy sees the fishman trying to get away. "Oh, no you don't!" Nodding to Silas, she takes off towards the surf.
Acrobatics (if needed to avoid AoO)
Will stares at Mal and then the lady in complete shock.
"But,... But,... It was leaving!" He sputters.
"What IS it with some people and running towards danger?!? It's like they have NO sense of self-preservation!" He cries, his arms gesticulating wildly.
Current actions-
Goblins: 21(gone, asleep)
Aquaman: 16 (attack Mal, move thirty feet toward the surf- 10 feet to the Inner Sea)
Adelaine: 12 (standing from prone, move 30 feet toward the surf- 50 feet away)
Silas: 10 (flirting with Adelaine)
Will: 9 (watching)
Zareby and Malatar: 8 (?)
Marten: 7
"Ferdinand" points his hand at the beast again before lowering it. "Can't just use all my spells on this one guy."
Mal grunts and makes an overhand attack on the fishman.
But the creature rolls away, diving into the surf and submerging.
With the fishman's exit, the six sober partygoers are alone on the patio with a sleeping goblin and four tripping/unconscious guests. The sound of the grand exodus in the manor is fading away, the Lady and the rest of the procession having gone out to the courtyard or the hamlet itself.
Addy, enraged at the excruciating bump on the head, looks down at the sleeping goblin. "Let's put this filthy thing out of it's misery and get the Hells out of here."
“Damn it!” Mal curses his rusty sword arm, and the shallow puncture marks across his chest as he watches the creature dive away into the moonlit water… then backs hastily away as the inrushing surf washes against his sandaled foot. He doesn’t much like the idea of the thing grabbing his foot and pulling him under, even though he knows that, logically, that couldn’t happen in water this shallow.
He trudges back up the beach to the patio. “I’ll do it,” he nods to Lady Albercroft, before plunging the point of his blade into the goblin’s eye.
The heavy blade plunges straight through the sleeping goblin's skull. A grating death rattle is its only response.
From the front of the manor and the rest of the town you can all hear a great commotion; shouts, braying horses and camels, cursing goblins and the loud commanding voices of the gilled Azlanti calling the goblins to order. Over it all, Lady Vestang continues to shout her regal commands. The party decorations lay in tatters on the patio, the guests you've saved from the fish man and goblins still either unconscious or out of their minds.
"Ferdinand" takes off his mask and looks around. "I say it's about time we headed back to the tents. Who's with me?"
Malatar sweeps his gaze about, lingering on the cold sea. “There’s still trouble here,” he says in a low voice. “Those gilled folk. Akin to the one that got away I’d reckon. A bit of healing,” he glances at the capricious elven friend of Will’s, “and maybe we can stop them from taking everyone else away … or at least see where they take them, if there’s more’n we can take.”
Silas nods, a cold light in his eyes.
"Yes, in this you are correct. I'll not suffer these fools interrupting this party... or my work. Gather 'round."
The priest chants a prayer to Calistria in Elven and a wave of warmth sweeps from him. It isn't a feeling of well-being: rather, your flesh nits as you feel a brief tinge. Lust? Fury? Something between? As quickly as it comes, it passes, leaving you in better shape than before.
Channel positive energy (2 uses left):
Distantly over the sounds of the "pilgrimage's" flight, Mal can hear the sounds of battle: somewhere on the opposite corner of the manor complex.
Addy looks at the others and suggests, "Lets head back and grab our 'regular clothes'. We can meet back up and try to figure out what we're gona do to get out of here right after. I don't know about you guys, but I'd prefer my leather and rapier if there are any more confrontations. Sound good?"
Mal shrugs. “Going into battle unprepared is not ideal, that’s for damn sure. Heading back to the hamlet’s probably the smart choice, and I wouldn’t talk you out of it. But I’ll stay here – for now. Time we get there, there’s every chance the gill people will have hauled these people off wherever they’re going. Won’t say some of ‘em probably don’t deserve it … but I reckon not all of ‘em do. I’m staying, see what I can do. Hear that? There’s fighting over there. That’ll be Itaden and his men. Maybe I can help.”
The speech is made quickly, in a rough but low tone, as the warrior looks about him.
He looks up at Will. “Maybe you should go back with them to the hamlet. Someone has to survive to chronicle this for the Society if I don’t make it back.”
The dead goblins each have a small shield on them that Mal could probably adjust to work as a buckler for his much larger arm. Peering about in the dark, it seems the goblins' absence wasn't missed by the larger procession of captives, but he does see three hunched shapes rising from the surf.
Marten's eyes grow wide looking at the surf.
"Er, regardless, I think we should hold this discussion... elsewhere."
“You’re right,” Mal nods. “Someone give me a hand, help me get this lot inside.”
He sheathes his sword and begins dragging two of the comatose party goers inside.
Maybe we all should just head back to the hamlet, he thinks. Those fish faced bastards give me the creeps … and by the time we get going the party goers’ll all be halfway there anyway, chances are.
Mal intends to try to get everyone inside and then close (and if possible, lock) the patio doors. His first priority will be to get any women inside.
Between the six adventurers, the incapacitated guests are dragged into the Grand Hall. Mal slams the patio doors shut just as the fishmen reach the edge of the firelight. You can hear their croaks of frustration through the shuttered doors. Martin grabs a long free-standing candle holder and jams it between the door handles. There isn't much furniture in the now almost vacant hall, but what little is there is quickly used to barricade the door. The fishmen slam against it, rattling the objects... but the blockade holds for now.
The Hall itself has now emptied. Banners and podiums toppled, wine and refreshments spilled on the floor. A few masked guests still lay on the floor; some clearly fallen from the gallery above, some bearing stab wounds. A man in a fish costume flops on the floor still, gasping, though he looks otherwise unharmed.
"All right, anyone know of a way out of here where we can get out without being seen? Mal, you can stay put; it's none of my business. But that's not really the smart play, if you ask me. There's no way even all of us could hold off all of the goblins, fish-things, and gill men that are out there in a place this big. And who knows how many more of those things are waiting just below the water out there? I suggest we all head back, together for safety, get our stuff, and then we can talk about whether we want to follow the party to its destination or not. I feel bad for these other folks ... well, more or less I do ... but getting caught yourself won't do them any good." With that, Addy begins looking around for an out-of-the-way exit.
Perception
In the Grand Hall are the two spiral staircases leading to the gallery above. On Addy's left facing the open courtyard doors she can remember the door closest to the patio leads to the kitchen while the other door on the left leads to the formal dining room. On her right are two doors to the lounge and another door that was closed the whole evening. You figure that each has access to the front hallway, since you've seen guests and servers entering and exiting each doorway.
Through the open double-doors to the courtyard the noise of the Grand Exodus of Hallucinating Aristocracy is dim in the distance: they must have moved off into the hamlet itself. Adelaine hears a high-pitched shriek from across the courtyard before it suddenly ceases. The man in the fish costume continues to gasp and you can hear faint moans here and there from other points in the manor house.
Will looks around, obviously still coming to grips with what has happened, was happening,... whatever. He clears his throat, and it doesn't sound too tense or shrill,...
"Wasn't quite the coming out party for the Society that I had planned,..." He murmurs hoarsely, then clears his throat again.
"Mal, I understand, at least I think I do, but the lady's correct. Now, while nominally I'm in charge of this expedition, I'm not going to pretend to give you an order any more than you would pretend to heed it. However, might I suggest that regrouping might be the better part of valor? Besides, it looks like the party's moving towards the hamlet, which is where we want to go to grab our gear anyway. Right? Besides, I would much rather chronicle how we survived this particular encounter, and found the mystery behind it, than simply return alive with a report of 'bad things happened'." He says wryly, looking around more out of tension than attempting to see anything,...
“Aye, you’re both right. They’ve moved faster than I thought. Let’s head in that direction then … I’m not sure what else we can do for these people here …”
Mal starts moving towards the open front doors, looking about for trouble.
The front hall is silent as Mal walks up to the front entrance. So accustomed to heavy armor, he can't help but notice how silent his footfalls seem without the jangle and clang of scales, plates and buckles.
The courtyard is a disaster area. You can smell the leavings of panicked animals and the delicate landscaping is torn up and trampled. The small lanterns that were strung about have been shattered and a small fire goes unattended toward the center of the area. Here and there you spot a masked form laying in the dirt and dust: you can't tell if they're unconscious or dead from the doorway. Several goblin corpses lay at the entrance to the stables in the lower corner of the complex on your right. Even from here you can see someone was at them with a heavy weapon.
The front gate is thrown open.
Addy makes up her mind. "Wel, guys, I'm heading back to my tent. You can come or stay; your choice." Addy heads out, trying to remain out of sight, but making a bee line for her tent.
Stealth
Perception
"I think we should stick together. Safer that way: wouldn't want anyone getting in a mess on the way to their tent.", says a clearly rattled Marten.
Silas nods.
"Not my favorite circumstances to be invited to a beautiful woman's tent, but I'll not pass on such an opportunity."
Adelaine slips off through the courtyard toward the tents and hamlet. Her keen ears pick up some ragged breathing and muttering from the stable, but the rest of the estate is silent.
Outside the gate, the two guards stationed there lay dead: several goblin corpses along with the body of a dog-sized, rat like creature attest that they at least went down fighting. Addy can see the dim shape of the procession moving through the hamlet heading East. All of the camels from the stockade look to have been loaded up with masquerade guests while mounted goblins herd the rest. Even with her keen eyes it's difficult to get a proper head count from this distance.
She picks her way through the tents, many ransacked and slashed by the wandering goblins. Near her tent Adelaine steps lightly over a goblin with its throat cut. Likely Gorzal's work. Within, the darkened tent seems mostly untouched. Addy's gear is wrapped in her traveling cloak where she is sure to find it. Tucked inside are two potions labeled "cure light wounds" in Gorzal's spidery script. The folded note reads:
Addy:
Mal glances back to make sure Will is close. “Might be worth grabbing some of those artifacts,” he mutters to the wizard. Then he follows Lady Albercroft, making sure that Will is still close by.
"A note from Shorty?" "Ferdinand" looks over her shoulder. "So, heading over to the inn next? I'd rather have my hands on something with a bit higher firepower if we run into another of those fish men."
Mal glances back to make sure Will is close. “Might be worth grabbing some of those artifacts,” he mutters to the wizard. Then he follows Lady Albercroft, making sure that Will is still close by.
Will looks at Mal blankly, and blinks. Possibly considering whether the warrior was struck in the head. Then he grins, and unable to resist such an obvious invitation, dashes to the nearest pedestals and grabs what he can carry. He then closely follows Mal out the door and back towards the town, and hopefully their still-intact belongings.
"Yeah, it's a note from Gorzal. He followed the procession, trying to find out what was happening," she says quietly, half lost in thought.
Shaking her head, she comes back to her senses and continues: "Yes, let's head to the Inn to get the rest of your gear. We should still be able to follow them, even if they head out of sight. Such a large group is bound to leave a trail, yes?"
Looking around, she tosses one of the potions to Will, and pockets the other. "You studious types generally stay back from the fray, so I figure you're a good one to hang onto that." Then she tosses the cloak to Mal and asks, "Mind holding that up for me and turning your head? I'd like to get out of this costume and into more appropriate attire. And in this case, an audience isn't needed."
Mal glances back to make sure Will is close. “Might be worth grabbing some of those artifacts,” he mutters to the wizard. Then he follows Lady Albercroft, making sure that Will is still close by.Will looks at Mal blankly, and blinks. Possibly considering whether the warrior was struck in the head. Then he grins, and unable to resist such an obvious invitation, dashes to the nearest pedestals and grabs what he can carry. He then closely follows Mal out the door and back towards the town, and hopefully their still-intact belongings.
Will seems perturbed by the missing artifacts, pouting as if this is a personal afront. He quickly recovers, and snags some nearby things off of the nearest wall before following Mal out the door.
"The artifacts are gone, the fish-men took them if I recall. BUt perhaps these might provide adequate clues as to their nature? If we're lucky,..." He adds with a doubtful look into the eerie night as they move forward.
Mal quirks an eyebrow at Lady Albercroft’s request. “Or we could just all wait outside...” he shrugs, nodding to the flap of the tent.
When the warrior makes it back to his gear, he’ll grab it but he’s not going to take the time to change back into his heavier armour, leaving it bundled up in (or tied to) his pack. He will change his costume sandals for his boots, and rip off the more ridiculous looking embellishments of his costume as he goes.
Mal quirks an eyebrow at Lady Albercroft’s request. “Or we could just all wait outside...” he shrugs, nodding to the flap of the tent.
When the warrior makes it back to his gear, he’ll grab it but he’s not going to take the time to change back into his heavier armour, leaving it bundled up in (or tied to) his pack. He will change his costume sandals for his boots, and rip off the more ridiculous looking embellishments of his costume as he goes.
"Either works," Addy says, with a slight grin.
Once everyone has recovered their gear at the inn, Addy mentions, mainly to Mal and Will, "Heard you two mentioning grabbing a few of those artifacts, but that the fish guys grabbed them all before you could get one. Just so happens I may be able to help you out a bit, in that area." She reaches into her pouch and pulls out the bracelet and odd, three-eyed statuette she grabbed earlier. Handing them to Will, she says, "So, what do you make of those?"
Almost as an afterthought, she then adds, "Oh, and since it looks like we'll be working together a bit, my name's Adelaine Harthos. Addy, to my friends. And I'm a Pathfinder myself, from Oppara. Nice to meet you all."
"Oh you little liar." "Ferdinand" comes down from his room, smiling. "I mean, I come here pretending to be your assistant, and you're not even the person you said you were? What're the odds?" He pulls on his gloves. "Well, introductions are in order then. Zareby Grenache, wandering gambler and general vagabond, at your service."