Mal tries to fend off the attacks of the goblin behind him, while at the same time attacking the one in front of him.
With a heavy downward chop, Malatar decapitates another goblin. The one at the opposite end with the shortbow lets out a small squeak of fear. Zareby attempts to freeze the goblin attacking Mal from the rear but misses by inches, frost clinging to the walls of the nearby building.
The immediate threat gone, Dayle works to calm Nessa from hurting herself or anyone else with her panicked flailing.
Handle Animal:
"Easy girl...it's alright"
He then removes his longbow from his gear strapped to her back. Then he turns and prepares to fire at the goblins - preferably the one with the bow.
Will hesitates, fingers twitching, then curses.
"Dammit Mal, I'm a researcher, not a battlemage! I came prepared for a party with easily-perturbed noblemen, not a pitched battle with cannibalistic goblin-kin!" He cries, somehow managing to sound as if the goblin attack is all just to personally affront him. He mutters a brief phrase, and there is a flicker of power, but no obvious effects.
;)
Will pauses, looking thoughtful. "Actually, if I have to choose between the company of Goblins and Noblemen, I'd probably take the Goblins. At least when THEY try to stick a dagger in your ribs, they do it to your face!" he mutters, looking for a way to help.
“Ah, we’ll make a battlemage out of you yet, young William,” Mal shouts back, what is left of his barbarian costume drenched with arterial blood from the neck of the latest decapitated goblin. By the clench-jawed, feral grin replacing his usual dour expression, he seems to be rather enjoying the battle – or maybe that’s just a grimace against the pain of the arrow sticking out of his thigh.
Will hesitates, fingers twitching, then curses.
"Dammit Mal, I'm a researcher, not a battlemage! I came prepared for a party with easily-perturbed noblemen, not a pitched battle with cannibalistic goblin-kin!" He cries, somehow managing to sound as if the goblin attack is all just to personally affront him. He mutters a brief phrase, and there is a flicker of power, but no obvious effects.
;)
Will pauses, looking thoughtful. "Actually, if I have to choose between the company of Goblins and Noblemen, I'd probably take the Goblins. At least when THEY try to stick a dagger in your ribs, they do it to your face!" he mutters, looking for a way to help.
"I'm going to get Bertha, she can help us."
Herral legs it back inside to his windowside table, and climb up on the bench, pushing out the window with Bertha, the heavy crossbow.
"What if I don't want to be a battlemage?!?" Will mutters darkly as he reluctantly pulls out his crossbow and hastily cranks it.
Assuming she was able to get in a flanking position ... Addy curses. "Damn these things! They're worse'n rats. And annoying, to boot!" as she attacks again with her rapier
attack
damage plus sneak attack
Initiative:
Adelaine on 23 (flank goblin, miss)
Herral and Will on 22 (loading crossbows)
Dayle, goblins and Nessa on 21 (D-calming N, G attacking Mal, fleeing)
Mal and Zareby on 20
Dayle says a few words to his horse, laying a reassuring hand on her mane. Nessa ceases her wild thrashing, though she still shudders with anxiety and tosses her head.
Adelaine dashes to assist Malatar against the remaining goblins, trapping one between herself and Mal. With a fencer's grace, she runs the little runt through the chest. It gasps and shrieks a moment before falling silent and still on the end of her rapier. Seeing his comrade's fate, the last goblin runs as fast as his little legs will carry him.
Zareby raises his crossbow and fires one last bolt at the fleeing goblins.
Zareby's quarrel flies over Mal's shoulder, spinning into the fleeing goblin's midsection and pinning it to the ground with a yelp.
“Nice work,” comments Mal, glancing at Zareby. Hopefully no one noticed the look of horror as the crossbow bolt flew within inches of his ear. He bends to clean the blood from his blade on the cleanest looking goblin tunic he can find.
Seeing that Adelaine and Zareby have dispatched the last of the goblins, he scans the area for any further threats while trying to keep his horse calm.
Perception:
Handle Animal:
"Thanks for keeping Nessa from being a rat-dog's meal," he says aloud for all to hear. Barring any further surprises, he exams Nessa's wounds to determine her condition. "I don't think she'll be traveling much now...I'll need to remove these."
Dayle listens closely and watches the moonlit streets and tent-rows for signs of life. Besides the sounds of the waves, little sounds reaches his keen ears. The nameless hamlet on the coast seems still and empty.
Nessa continues to pace and rear in agitation, despite her wounded flank. Dayle's hurried efforts to still her have little effect.
Dayle refocuses his efforts on Nessa, placing a calming hand on her side, and continues to try to put her at ease enough to have her wounds checked.
Handle Animal:
"I'm having a hard time keeping her steady, can anyone check the arrows...see if we can remove them?"
"I can help you, horse, if you stop bucking around. Come on give me a chance to work some magic here, by Desna's trotting toes. Relax."
Herral attempts to aid Dayle and make Nessa calm down a little. But Herral is no expert in doing this and he soon gives up.
"I see, stubborn are you, like my father when seconds of turkey was coming round and he had the knife and fork ready. Didn't listen to anyone, did he?"
Wispy blue butterflies float out from Herral, landing on any wounds, healing as they disappear instantly.
Addy begins searching the corpses of the goblins. "Just in case they're carrying anything that might give us a clue who they're working with," she explains. Once the horse is under control, Addy says, "So, shall we start trailing the 'party'? I wouldn't want us to miss anything. Oh, and I'll take my trinkets back, for now. At least until we can study them a bit more." The last statement is directed at Will, with her hand held out.
Dayle stares slightly puzzled at the butterflies flit around - watching as they float over himself and Nessa. While he feels only a little tingle as they alight on himself, they seem to land upon the arrow wounds and the muscles relax slightly in relief.
Taking advantage of the healing moment, he tries to carefully remove the goblin arrows. As soon as he pulls them out, he uses his riding cloak to stanch any more bleeding - tearing it up as necessary to be effective. Heal:
"My thanks, Herral Hinn. She's carried me many miles...hate to see her hurt through no fault of her own. Stupid goblins!"
At Addy's suggestion that the party get moving, he adds to the conversation: "I have to get Nessa stabled; hopefully she can get some rest - I don't think she can travel too much right now. You folks go ahead, if you think it's urgent...I'll catch up as soon as I have her settled."
“You’re a cleric?” Mal asks the halfling (rather redundantly) as his wounds close up. “Thank Desna for that! A little luck never hurts.”
He’ll help Addy search the bodies.
Herral looks at Malatar suspicious-like, "who you calling little?"
Then he laughs and slaps the soldier on the thigh, "of course I am and there's plenty more where that came from."
The halfling's nose begins to twitch, "my chicken is going cold. I better get ready to leave with you after that goblin warband and the party people."
Herral snaffles a quarter of chicken and eats it as he puts on the armour and when that's done, he puts Bertha on his back and grabs another quarter, putting both chicken legs in his pockets for later.
Soon the armoured priest is ready for anything. Or anyone. He slurps down a guzzling glass of red before he leaves with a sigh.
"Cheers!"
Will looks from Mal to Herral and back again. he shakes his head ruefully.
"Mad, they're all completely nutters,..." He mumbles to himself, shaking his head and waving his crossbow around as if uncertain whether to use it on another goblin, or himself,... He settles for retrieving his backpack, after triple checking that his precious journals are still inside, and moving to stand next to Mal, a resigned look upon his face.
"Well, we better get going before all the guests get away." Zareby finishes reloading his crossbow. "Of course, I'd rather just run off and let whatever happens happen, but I've got too much in this game to fold now."
"Now that is my kind of talk."
Herral puts the empty glass down and wipes his finger around the insied before popping it in his mouth.
"Hmmm, hmmmm, hmm, hmmm," he hums as he walks.
The goblins' packs contain all manner of things stolen from tents and houses, mostly junk: bits of costume, string, shattered bottles of liquor, shoes that have been gnawed on and loose pieces of food. But here and there, something valuable turns up. The take ultimately comes down to 30 gold coins, two ivory rings, a snuff box of carved mahogany, a masterwork dagger and a pair of gold earrings.
Dayle finds the stable next to the inn to be quite empty. He walks Nessa to the largest stall, fills the water trough and brings her a bale of hay. If any survivors of the raid are about, they will hopefully tend to her while the ranger is gone.
Each of you remembers that the procession headed inland to the east and even in the moonlight their trail is quite obvious. The six adventurers march through the night after the goblins and villagers with only Dayle and Addy's keen eyes to guide them. The trail angles near the Jalrune river, the countryside barren and practically empty with all the trees and settlements either razed or over harvested during the war with Qadira or previous times of expansion. Oppara's splendor comes at a high cost, it seems.
Survival:
Dayle pats Nessa down as she settles in. He turns to his messenger satchel - too bulky for practicality in combat, and he can't leave his messages behind for easy access by any stranger. He places the letters in an oilskin sleeve and tucks them into his smaller pack before heading out with the others.
Once on the trail, he quickly tries to assess the path and keep the details in his mind - looking for the tell-tale signs of footfalls that make them easy to follow. So long as the Moon holds, he uses his vision without light - focusing on the trail.
"This mess is like hungry Hill Giants chasing after a herd of pigs..."
Tracking isn’t Mal’s area of expertise, but he's done a bit of it in the past, and he’ll help if he can.
As Addy admires the gold earrings, she asks, "Hey, 'cousin'!" giving a smirk on the last phrase, "you wanna check any of these things real quick and see if they're magic? I think anything that can help us would be a good thing."
While tracking the party, it's not too hard to notice the look on Addy's face change a bit. Her usual half-sarcastic smirk has been replaced by a scowl as she witnesses again the horrible conditions of the countryside.
Even with only the moonlight, between Mal and Dayle the party easily stays on course with the goblins and captives. The many hooves and clawed feet in the path suggest that they took most of the camels from the corral; you see no hoof-prints, however, so no horses. The four-toed clawed tracks of the goblin dogs are also notable. The procession stays close to the Jalrune river and the Qadiran border. Once or twice in the night's travels, you see campfires and the lights of border forts from the opposite side. If you or your quarry were noticed by these sentinels, there has been no sign.
You push hard through to the cloudy dawn, making about 20 miles through the night. Your back and feet ache after trudging through the night and fighting for your lives against the goblins at the estate and when thunder rolls across the horizon and the wind starts biting, things look as if they're taking a turn for the worse. Mal scans the barren countryside and spots a ridge to the north and what looks like a cave.
"All right, I'm tired, dirty, cranky, and did I mention tired? I know I don't have any wilderness smarts, but even I can tell we've got a storm coming. So who's with me in finding taking some shelter until at least the storm's over?"
Adelaine's sharp words, along with the dawning light, snaps Dayle from the traveling reverie he had put his mind in as he followed the trail. The previous night's ride, now combined with the long chase, suddenly fills him great fatigue. He hates to lose the trail, but the suggestion could not be more welcome.
To brighten his mood, he can't help but dryly add:
"Oh...it's no trouble with this storm. At this rate we could be at Damgazi and the Border Forest in 2 or 3.......days!"
With a slight smirk at his comment, he turns towards the cave - acknowledging Addy's suggestion . "Nonetheless, I believe Miss Adelaine's idea is for the best."
Will snaps his head up, he had dozed off while trudging along in Mal's faint shadow from the sunrise.
"Rest? Wonderful. I mean, if you insist!" He says with a weary smile that fools no one.
"How come the journals never, ever, mention sore feet?!?" He mutters under his breath.
Fighting through the sharp wind and rain, the party crosses several dozen meters to the cave mouth in the ridge. Stones and the blackened corpses of trees litter the ground near the cave's mouth. Peering in, you can see that it extends rather far into the hill. The light doesn't allow you to see further than the edges of Dayle and Addy's elf vision; it looks clear for those 60 feet at least with enough room for all of you to climb in and stand with varying degrees of comfort.
"So, who wants to check further in to see if we're alone in here?" Addy suddenly realizes that Dayle has some wilderness skills and asks, "How about you? You see any tracks that might tell us if this place is occupied?"
Almost as if on cue to her statement, Dayle quietly crouches down to examine the area inside - hopefully where none of the his fellow travelers have stamped about.
If there's further evidence of tracks, he'll edge further back into the cave...pausing to whisper loud enough for all to hear:
"If anyone has some small light, I could use a little help to keep my vision going..."
Dayle:
Dayle stares intently at the ground, then he moves towards a small heap touching it with his hand and then smells said hand.
"Small, clawed tracks...three...no, four digits...sniff...something's trying to hide it's tracks. By it's track size, I wouldn't say it's very large."
He then continues to examine the cave for further signs.
Knowledge(Nature):
Track:
Perception:
Zareby pulls a playing card out of his pack and quickly casts Light on it before handing it to Dayle. "Here, the two of spades. It should stay lit for a few minutes."
"Thanks" Dayle takes the card to assist his search.
Will grumbles as they enter the cave, but quickly stops when Doyle mentions 'something' and 'tracks'.
He nods at the glowing card, "That's a good trick,..." He whispers with a combination of jealousy and admiration,...
The footprints don't seem to belong to a natural animal, though it looks like something from a lizard or bird. The tracks lead toward the rear of the cave. In the cold magical light from Zareby's card there lay revealed a massive skeleton seemingly crammed into the back of the cave. Though it's mostly fallen apart, you can all see a large skull with cavernous eye sockets and nasal cavities. Horns in its brow are snapped off or browned with age and several rows of teeth leer from its jaw. A great spinal column leads into a ribcage and shoulders supporting crumbling legs with large, deadly-looking claws.
A booming voice fills the cave.
"WHAT FLESHY MEATBAGS DISTURB GREAT AND MIGHTY DEGALLA'S FINAL RESTING PLACE?! SPEAK QUICKLY OR RISK HER TREMENDOUS, UNLOVING MIGHT!!"
"Let me handle this." Zareby steps forward, his hands raised. "We are but a group of humble Pathfinders who have come to this land to record what we could of your history while you still lived. Unfortunately, it seems we are too late. However, since you are great enough to communicate from beyond the grave, perhaps we can stay here with you during this storm and record your exploits?"
Always on the edge, Herral grabs Zareby's hand. "Whassat? I mean a cave should have a bear, a big brown one asleep with lots of fur like a rug. But what is a Degalla? Undead dragon. I don't think my Desna has prepared me for this...praps we could find our own cave. You know, huh. This is occupied and it would be rude not to leave, yes?"
Herral scans the horizon and points quite far away, "you know did I ever tell you that I can see miles, its a halfling thing. And all the way over there is a cave. Its a walk but there's no dragon. Huh? Guys you even listening to me?"
Sense Motive:
Dayle looks again at the tracks he found, and then at the "dragon" in front of him. It doesn't seem right...nothing in those tracks would match this large beast.
"Something's not right here. That beast hasn't moved in years or more."
"I can see that. Now both of you, shut up and act reverent, and maybe we won't have to find a different cave.", Zareby whispers to the others.
"Yeah, I'm really not buying it, either, but I'll play along."
"Oh, mighty Degalla, please - we who will gladly become your most humble servants only seek shelter from this storm. Allow us to shelter here, and we will record your history for the wonder and amazement of all!"
Bluff (or Aid Another)
Perception
Sense Motive
Dayle:
Addy:
"THE MIGHTY DEGALLA WILL NOT BE BOUGHT WITH PETTY FLATTERY! SHE DEMANDS TO KNOW WHO TRESPASSES IN HER DOMAIN! YOUR NAMES, YOUR HOMELANDS AND YOUR ASSOCIATIONS OR SHE WILL MAKE YOUR FLESHY EYES BURST LIKE GRAPES HELD OVER A CANDLE!!! THE HORROR! THE SCREAMING, PAINFUL HORROR!!!"