Birra is small even for a halfling, her frail body constantly covered in blisters and lesions. Though she does her best to keep her sores properly dressed, an unmistakable scent of decay surrounds her. She does not know the source of her curse or the dark powers which sometimes spring forth against her will. As a girl she had hoped to become a paladin, but sickness took her and did not let go; too fragile for combat and quite aware of her repulsiveness, she spent years withdrawn in brooding sorrow. Finally, after crawling destitute into a wayshrine and spending a cold night contemplating the visage of Sarenrae looming over, she came to a conclusion: this must be a divine test. Resolved, Birra gathered herself and worked as a temple healer until she could afford some adventuring gear, then sought a troupe which could make use of her meager assistance. Now she will go forth and let faith guide her in turning these unsavory powers to good, perhaps earning her redemption.
Sophronia Hilltopple has a pleasant, placid demeanor but the disturbing habit of chattering to herself continuously as if responding to unheard voices in the wind. Even when the air around her is still, the hem of her garments and tendrils of her hair flutter gently as if moved by a breeze. Although shunned by most (who think her slightly mad), she doesn't seem to mind her wandering lifestyle, her pattering little feet sufficient to take her wherever the wind blows.
Alternatively, I have slightly more combat-friendly firestarter kind of oracle.
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Over the past few days, by one means or another, you have all found your way to a set of caves. Some led by their purpose, others by the guiding hand of their foci, you find yourself in a ravine which leads up to a 10'x10' cave opening. The interior is dark against the brightness of the noonday sun.
Sophronia chortles to herself. "And what has the wind blown into that hole, I wonder? We should find out, I'm thinking." She pauses as if being addressed, though no speech can be heard. "Oh, no, that's very rude; you mustn't say that, you know." Picking up a small stone from the rocky ravine, she cups it in her hands and blows on it, whispering soft words, and it begins to glow. Then, encouraging it like a baby bird to leave the nest and try the air currents, she waves her fingers and sets it moving out in front of the party to lead the way into the cave.
With a convulsion and a dark utterance which looks almost painful, Birra's eyes turn jet black and she peers into the darkness for signs of life. "Friends, if you can bear my touch, stay close: I will gird us against what may lie ahead." Keeping herself in the center of the group, she follows the glowing pebble, muttering and gesturing and touching each of her comrades in turn.
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Trandal sighs softly, sliding down from his trusty mount and patting her flank. "Easy girl, I'm not going to make you go in there," he soothes. Smiling broadly at the girls, he draws his falchion and steps forward to match pace with the floating light. "It's always good to travel with the magically gifted. "You may rest assured that you are all safe with me, I swear it upon my life." Looking forward after his eyes adjust to the lighting, he steps into the cave and surveys the interior.
"It looks like this goes about fifteen feet and then turns to the right. Stay close and we'll get through this together."
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"It's always good to travel with the magically gifted. You may rest assured that you are all safe with me, I swear it upon my life."
Lucius speaks for the first time.
"And I swear that whatever may stand in our way will be dead by morning. I'll go first."
He steps past the glowing stone, allowing his low-light vision to take effect.
"As our mutual friend says, stay close."
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As the cavaliers step into the 10'x10' hallway and the light flickers along the walls, it becomes more and more clear that this cave is inhabited. The floor under your feet is deeply gouged, the trail leading around the corner as the hallway turns gradually to the right.
Assuming that the party continues with the Cavaliers advancing in front of the Oracles, I need both of the Cavaliers to make a Perception check. Oracles can roll too, but there's a circumstance penalty.
As Sophronia blinks her eyes and looks around, an invisible hand seems to pluck her headscarf down over her face. "Oh, not funny! This isn't a time for pranks," she whispers in protest.
Birra shouts out, "Wait, stop!" but is almost certain her warning is too late. She readies her crossbow to fire at any creature which might leap out after the trap is sprung.
"Stop!" Sophronia commands her floating rock, and "Stop! Stop. Stop. Stop." she commands her unseen entourage quietly, looking inquiringly at Birra.
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Trandal practically trips over himself in an attempt to stop, using the point of his falchion to counterbalance just a fraction of an inch away from the tripwire. "Whoa!" he whispers loudly, quickly checking the rest of the party and reaching for Lucius to help steady him should it be needed.
Lucius hauls Trandal bodily away from the tripwire. He kneels, taking care to avoid activating whatever the tripwire releases.
"Trap. Disarm, or avoid?"
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As Lucius kneels and speaks, you all hear a high pitched yapping voice from around the corner. In broken Common, "Leave now fleshies, or suffer our wrath!" A moment later, a small red draconian figure strides confidently around the corner... a Kobold. Wearing chainmail and carrying a spear with a trained fighter's body language, the Kobold sizes each of you up in turn.
Slightly panicked at her first confrontation with such a creature, and having already prepared to fire at whatever may spring forth, Birra's grip tightens reactively on the trigger, loosing a bolt.
Still struggling with her headscarf as if tugging against an unseen hand, Sophronia loses her concentration and the glowing stone drops to the cave floor.
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As the crossbow bolt spangs wide and ricochets off the ceiling, the Kobold squeaks as combat is joined. He thrusts his spear at Trandal and misses widely, yammering in a language that none of you speak. The sounds of running feet can be easily heard down the corridor.
Lucius can hear at least 3 more of the creatures. [ooc]With that impressive Perception check....[ooc]
Birra gasps, surprised at her own reckless action, then sets her jaw and lets the crossbow dangle in one hand, uttering a plea under her breath: "Sarenrae, forgive me." Words come in a more primal language and she advances on the scaly foe, thrusting her empty palm toward its chest.
Finally winning her battle with the scarf ("I'm not playing now! I mean it!"), Sophronia steps forward to her side of the trip wire and commands the kobold, "Come here!"
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Trandal takes a shallow breath, surveying the developments of battle and making his decision in the space between inhalation and exhalation. Side stepping to allow the spell-casting Halflings their actions, he turns face off against any reinforcements that are en route.
"Lucius, I know you have my back..." he says confidently.
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The Kobold let's out a high-pitched scream of pain as Birra's spell chars his skin, the scales rippling, then bubbling and then crisping. He stumbles a few feet towards Sophronia's siren's song of command before slumping, first to his knees and then slams into the floor. He lands squarely on the tripwire, less than a foot from Sophronia.
Three more Kobolds boil into the corridor in front of the Cavaliers, one in front similarly equipped to the fallen one with a spear and the other two taking defensive positions and drawing a bead with their crossbows.
As Sophronia gazes sympathetically at the prone kobold at her feet, most of the larger of the stones that rain down toward her head seem to suddenly change their trajectory as they approach her, as if juggled away by unseen hands. One particular rock does a loop-de-loop in the air above her for a few seconds before rattling to the stone floor of the cave at her side.
Birra watches the kobold stagger after discharging her spell, and is horrified when it collapses on the tripwire. When the rockfall clears, she takes a careful look at Sophronia, worried about the damage this mishap may have caused.
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Trandal mutters under his breath regarding dereliction of his duties and Oath upon hearing the rocks collapse behind, but steps up into combat with the spear-wielding Kobold. "How do you like your own traps, you filthy creatures!" he growls as he brings the massive falchion up and in a lethal arc.
As the Kobold folds at the impact, spinning once before falling, Trandal readies himself for the crossbow fire.
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Lucius moves to face the pair of crossbow-wielding kobolds, his weapon at the ready.
"I don't have time for this."
Grasping his flail with both hands, he swings it in a wide, powerful arc. The weapon's massive, spiked iron head impacts the head of the lead kobold, crushing bone, muscle, and brain, and lodging in the creature's chest cavity. Lucius jerks the weapon free, allowing the kobold's ruined carcass to fall heavily to the floor.
"Next."
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As Sophronia ducks and rolls - her ever-present companions seeming to guide her clear of the majority of the falling rocks - the final standing Kobold discharges his crossbow at Lucius in a panic reaction to the tall Half-Elf cutting down his comrade.
The bolt spangs wide against the rock wall and the Kobold retreats quickly, gibbering in what most will now recognize as the Draconic tongue.
Birra calls out to the remaining kobold, "All creatures have the right to earn redemption. Lay down your arms and surrender." She then kneels beside the creature's half-crushed compatriot.