[4E] Harken unto Harken [IC]

[WaffleLord]

Winter usually bring unbearable cold to Fallcrest, but a warm breeze has been blowing down the Moon Hills as of late, bringing refreshment to the townsfolk. Many have been in good spirits, enjoying their break from the inclement weather, but it is not happy business that brings you to town.

You have each been contacted through channels you trust and asked to meet here in Fallcrest at the behest of Donal Mercathy. "Matters most dire..." the communique said, "...threatens the whole Nentir Vale...Assembling a team…". Such subjects are always treated seriously and with concern. And so you are here, in Fallcrest, awaiting further contact at the Nentir Inn. Other adventurers were mentioned in the message. Glancing about the room, you wonder who else would be joining you.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak sprawls on his backed stool at the bar, sipping idly at his usual tankard of strong dwarven ale. The genasi has the look of a grizzled, tired old warrior, the countenance and manner of one of those dispossessed, jaded veterans of the Bloodspear War. It is evident this latest threat to the vale has had little bearing on the earthsoul's disposition. At his side is a hulking elemental beast, a vaguely humanoid figure comprised of earth and stone, looming silently over its master like a wakeful sentinel.

Looking offhandedly to his right along the oaken span, he spots Grai further down the bar. Acknowledging the fellow warrior with a wry smile and a mock salute, he raises his mug in salutation before settling back in his chair to drink once more.

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar stoops to enter the door. His massive horns nearly scrape the ceiling as he walks through, thunderous thuds shaking cups and tables as he walks through the Inn. His voice is a deep rumble, as he inquires from the barkeep where his contact is.

"I seek Donal Mercathy. He has asked me to come and dance the spears with his enemies." The fierce eyes of the bull-man sweep the room, looking for things of interest. His hand stands at the ready on the haft of one of his two spears, thrust through straps on his back. Folding scales of metal reflect the light dimly, hampered by a smoky hue. Where he is not armored, the bull wears green and brown clothes, that blend well with his black fur, and would help hide him among many kinds of terrain.

[Paperscrap]

Emberlyn had already made herself quite at home inside of the Nentir, her form lazily reclining in a simple rocking chair with naught but a rather heavy looking tome for company. Idly swaying back and forth in front of the licking fireplace before her, the passive onlooker might have noticed something strange about her demeanor. Though her dark and unnatural hue at first seemed to be the result of a simple trick of light, on closer inspection one would find that to be a strictly false assumption. Rather, it would seem, her complexion held the tincture of a fading shadow rather naturally.

Rough, scruffy looking robes fitted themselves loosely on top of her otherwise unassuming frame, the cloth frayed and singed. Though once a pure white, they had in recent years become a battlefield upon which soot and ash waged mortal war constantly; their current dusty shade proof of the victor. If not her bloodline, it was these vestments that likely were responsible for the rather unpleasant scent of smoke that those spending time in close proximity with the mage would surely notice.

Currently, the gensai seemed quite content with simply meticulously perusing her book; her dark eyes transfixed on the pages in a way that would suggest obliviousness towards her surroundings. In truth, however, that was not exactly the case. It didn't take a brilliant mind to deduct that some of the other patrons were likely called here for the very same reason she was. It was simply a preference of hers, a way of doing things perhaps, to not jump into a situation with people unknown before she had a better idea of the extent of it. A preference that seemed to be justified as the minotaur broadcasted his presence to surely all of Fallcrest; the mighty black beast shattering her concentration as she was forced to look up at whatever was causing that racket. After such a direct declaration, she couldn't help but to crane her head sideways to catch any who might respond.

[Ridai]

It's a good thing that this whole meeting is going to happen in close vicinity to a bar, with Grai already enjoying the sights as usual. The Nentir Inn is rather fancy, usually she gets hammered at the Taphouse instead (usually leading to a good ol'-fashioned bar fight). All but the more adventurous types avoid eye contact with the tall half-orc who looks like a blend between a rowdy soldier and a warrior of the wilds, having a fierce aura to her. Her hide armor that includes a rather impressive wolf pelt looks positively weathered but taken good care of nonetheless, fitting the more than well-toned, shapely body rather well and still showing the skin of muscular arms and the strong legs of a runner and dancer.

Grai shows a toothy grin as she spots Garithak, making her way over to him, her steps confident and swift. She turns the free bar stool next to her superior around and flops down on it, resting her elbows on the bar, her almost oversized, vicious looking weapon dangling by her side. "Fancy meet'n' you here, Capt'n." Grai's voice is strong and throaty, but often with an energetic, almost playful quality to it when at ease. "Pity all the other boys 'n' gals 're all tied up," she continues, referring to their brothers- and sisters-in-arms. "Guess I'll have ya all to myself."

Reaching to scratch Brutus' head just where he loves it the most, Grai turns towards the bar, looking for the bartender or anyone working for the inn, really. "Oy, can I get an ale? Gimme one o' the bigger mugs while yer at it." She slams down some coins with her free hands.

As she hears the new voice, Grai turns to face the tauric newcomer, releasing Brutus' head to wave him closer. "C'mere, big guy, no use in wait'n' alone an' with a dry throat." This is shaping up to be a lot of fun.

Just as an FYI, Grai's speech pattern (namely slurring her words a bit) will probably be a bit inconsistent, which is half on purpose and half because I'm not used to writing that way. :smallsigh:

[Surrealistik]

As his former companion moves next to him, Garithak downs another swig of his booze, flipping out a palm towards the adjacent stool, as though in invitation. Brutus seems to appreciate the half-orc's attention, rumbling in response to her ministrations as it leans into her hand.

The soldier is laden with battleworn implements of war. His gear is unanimously old and weathered looking, although well and meticulously maintained. At his feet is a pack brimming with supplies, topped with a spun bedroll. To his side, a broad sheath of faded leather, hung tight from a thick utility belt adorned with countless pouches. Hung over his back is a battered steel shield, its heavy use evident by the dents and craters impacted along its convex profile, the ward's dull sheen of metal indelibly blackened in several areas. Perhaps most notable is his armour, seeming almost a hodgepodge or amalgam of salvaged materials. Scuff marks and scratches cross and mar most of its surface. A multitude of tears and breaks pronounce themselves by way of a network of overlying patches and leather strips. Beneath this chaotic tangle of salvage and jury rigged repair, the semblance of an aged Fallcrest standard issue might be glimpsed by a trained or familiar eye.

Of his physical features, the veteran is solidly built, a man of sizable, hulking muscle. His broad neck endowed with the robust thickness of a strongman, holding aloft a head of ruddy dark earthen skin, smoothly bald, with lightly glowing eyes of amber that seem to exude a sense of cynicism and cunning intelligence.

Smiling to himself, the genasi shakes his head,

"Aye, it's been awhile Grai. Can't say I much expected to see you here, but on second thought maybe I should've; you've always been one for trouble after all."

He chuckles, the rumbling laughter every bit as deep and gravelly as his booming voice.

Turning his head, Garithak closely regards the half-orc, manifesting his curiosity at what the years have wrought upon her.

"Nothing much has changed with you it seems, still fit as the day we met; glad to see it. 'fraid I've let myself go a tad since our glory days in the war. Still, I ain't doubt my mind and sword are sharp enough for whatever this latest exaggerated peril happens to be."


He sighs, swigging another drink until the mug is at last drained. Slamming down the stein, he runs a hand over his bald head as he looks about the room, taking in the measure of the other occupants.

"Motley crew we've got here eh Grai? Suppose we'll be partnering with the more militant looking o' the lot; not one of em that doesn't look capable. Maybe this time we won't have another dead weight Private Chalmers on our hands."

[Felhammer]

Barases Darkfur, World Renown Bard!

The ruddy-skinned, brown and black furred Satyr pushes the doors open to the Inn and looks around for a bit before exclaiming, "Sure is cold out there, eh?" He then rushes over to the hearth and removes his bear-fur coat, lays it on the floor and plops himself down, saying, "Nothing's better than a burning hot fire on a cold winter's day, eh?"

After a few minutes of bathing in the warmth the Satyr calls out, "HEY barkeep, what's on the menu for today? I could really go for some boiled eggs and a pint of logger. We bards have to keep our strength up or lest we can't recite our wondrous tales of adventure, daring and merriment!"

The Barases twists his head around waiting for someone, anyone, in the tavern to ask to hear a tale but he finds nothing except gruff disappointment. Hanging his head low, the Satyr stares into the fire for a bit, mindlessly fiddling with his light purple scarf, before opening his satchel and pulling a small book out - Tales of Shail Maegg and Keunid - which chronicles the adventures of two great adventurers who slew the Sacred Bull of Gruumsh! It was one of his favorite stories and Barases read at least a passage or two from it every day since he was a small child.

[Ridai]

"That'a good boy. Missed ol' Grai, haven't'cha?" Grai purrs softly as she sees Brutus reaction.

The half-orc chuckles as trouble is mentioned. "What can I say? Trouble loves me, keeps showerin' me with skulls ta knock and virgins ta save."

"I'm sure I still have a few surprises for ya. As for you," Grai gives Garithak good, long once-over, apparently pleased with what she sees. "I'm lik'n' what I see. Lotsa stories 'n' fights. But if ya feel yer hankerin' for some exercise, I can provide. Plenty." She draws out the last word, showing her usual mischievous sparkle in the eyes with a matching grin.

Being reminded of said good-for-nothing private makes Grai throw her head back and groan. "Ugh, that skinny, whiny bastard had his tail between his legs when he wasn't doin' noth'n' instead. That 'n' he couldn't decide whether to get his knickers in a twist 'cause of my orcish half or to keep starin' when he thought I wasn't lookin'." Grai points at Garithak's face for a moment. "Ya still owe me for not allow'n' me to shove my boot up his weas'ly butt back then."

The half-orc's eyes are drawn to the satyr newcomer. Talks a bit too flowery, but eh, bard, comes with the job. Hopefully he knows some songs as well.

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

The bull turns to those that greet him, and walks towards their table. Pulling a chair away, he sits down on the floor where it was. Digging around his pouch he takes out a long pipe and a pouch of herbs. Stuffing the pipe, he lights it with a coal from the hearth, puffing gently on the long instrument. He remains silent, and contemplative.

[Paperscrap]

"Unbearably so." Emberlyn replied with a faint smile as she wavered between looking at her book and the satyr whom had pulled up next to her. "I hear this is actually a warm spell for the region, too. Can you believe it?"

The conversation inevitably dying in her awkward attempts to kindle it, the pyromancer would try to pick up again after a short period; apparently growing tired of a lack of kinda-sorta-human interaction. She didn't exactly ask the question the satyr may have been wanting, but at least it was in the ballpark. "Ah... what book is it you have there?"

[Surrealistik]

Garithak chuckles at the half-orc's forwardness, pushing out his mug for a refill.

"Truly flattered Grai; I can see your physique isn't the only thing that hasn't changed."

He grins, his earlier wry smile coming to the fore as he regards his former subordinate, playful expression rivalling the mischievousness in her eyes.

"And assuming there's not too much action upfront, we might just see about a little on the side."

Responding to Grai's distaste at the wayward soldier, the genasi shakes his head, loosing a rumbling laugh as rough, gritty fingers slide over his baldness.

"Yeah, well, had to play with the hand I was given. Times were tough back then, and it was a real struggle on the front. Good men were in short supply. Chalmers may have been an incompetent, abject coward, but what he lacked in sense and courage, he made up for in labour; never seen a better trench digger in my life. Kid had a work ethic I tell you that much. Turns out shame is one of the best motivators around."

With his stein replenished by a passing barkeep, Garithak reaches out to grab it, swilling down most of the contents. Heaving a sigh of satisfaction, he sets down the vessel and cranes his neck about the room.

"So, when do you think this Donal guy is gonna show? Been waiting for awhile now; was hoping to get things underway. Hate coolin' my heels for too long, even when it's with my favourite war buddy."

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

"Patience can be sown into the air and reap great harvest. Impatience, sown into the best soil, yields only nettles." The bull says, puffing on his pipe.

[Ridai]

"That be the beauty o' my tactics, Capt'n: I win either way." The sheer absurdity of talking tactics makes Grai laugh heartily. She probably has drawn her share of glares and such, but the half-orc doesn't care one bit. Noticing her order arrived, Grai reaches around to grab the large tankard with one hand, winking at the barkeep. "Thanks a bunch, hun'." One of the warrior's wisdoms in action: always be friendly to those who provide you with the good stuff.

Grai's voice is muffled by the large mug after she sighs heavily into her beer. "Hmph, a'right, gonna give him that." Some mumbled words are followed by some big gulps, emptying almost half of the tankard as if it was filled with water.

"Wish the guy'd nettles in 'is pants, though," Grai quips as response to the big one, looking at the door, then at her ale to know what time it is. Not getting better, that's for sure. With the tankard's rim between her fingertips, painting lazy invisible circles into the air ash she is still resting her elbows on the bar, Grai turns to the philosophical bull. "Name's Grai, an' this be Capt'n Garry, best damn commander there is. What's yer name, big guy?"

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

"You may call me Malikar." The bull takes a long pull on his pipe, and offers it to Grai. As he speaks again, smoke billows from his nostrils, giving him the look of a flaming god of cows. "You seem eager to enter the dance, though by the look of you, you dance well and often. Usually those two are exclusive. The young and naive enter the dance, and bleed and die. Those that live gain the look you have, and avoid the dance if at all possible."

[Ridai]

"Nice ta meet'cha, Malikar," Grai answers, giving an appreciative nod as she grabs the pipe with her free hand, taking a good, long drag. She enjoys the taste and feel, taking her time before slowly exhaling the smoke in a content manner. Angling the hand holding the pipe, she wordlessly asks Malikar whether she should pass the pipe along to Garithak, acting accordingly to his answer.

"As my dear mommy always said, I ain't the sharpest tool 'n the shed. But hey," Grai shrugs. "life's short, don't wanna waste a single day." The half-orc seems perfectly content while saying that, without even a hint of malice or weariness.

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar nods to the orc, indicating that Grai should pass the pipe around. He digs around in his pack for a book, taking it out and opening it. The book is dwarved by his massive hands, and is clearly written by one of the smaller races, humand or elves.

[Surrealistik]

"That be the beauty o' my tactics, Capt'n: I win either way."

Another round of hearty laughter booms from Garithak.

"Aye, I would imagine so."

As Grai hands off the minotaur's pipe, the veteran nods his thanks, promptly accepting the clay bit.

"Mmm. Don't mind if I do."

Taking it to his lips, he leisurely sits back, boots kicked atop an adjacent seat. Gorging deep upon the burning herb, he exhales after several moments, slowly blowing out a great grey plume.

"Not bad at all. On the matter of conflict, avoidin' it isn't much of an option; having been in the business so long, it's all I know really. Besides, if I'm gonna make a living from it, may as well be enthused about what I do. Nothing quite like the thrill of combat, and that's the truth."

He shrugs, passing back the pipe.

"Wish it hadn't worked out that way, but things are what they are. World's a rough place, as I'm sure you know by the look of yea."

[Felhammer]

The Satyr looks over and sees a beautiful Gensai sitting next to him, "I'm not sure how but some how in my haste I didn't notice your immaculate beauty. I apologize for not stating it earlier. Its the darn cold. We satyrs look like we can handle cold, what with out furry legs but, believe me you, we cannot! I like walking around without a coat - just my fur, my skin and a scarf but... Unfortunately, who can do that in these cold climes? I mean honestly, how is someone supposed to look like a dashing hero when he's huddled up in a thick bear coat" Barases pats the coat he's sitting on, "Like this one?"

The Satyr then closes his book to show his new friend the title, " 'The Tales of Shail Maegg and Keunid.' Sail Maegg and Keunid were adventures, not unlike myself, who were at first enemies but became the best of friends and together, they battled the Bull of Gruumsh, who was a terrible servant of the Orc God! I have read a passage from this book every day of my life since I was a child. It is one of my most treasured belongings."

Barases then stops for a moment and extends his hand, "I am the world famous Bard - Barases Darkfur! I am sure one has gorgeous as yourself has heard of me, few in the Nentir have not!"

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar takes back the pipe and begins puffing on it. Soon his horns are ringed with grey smoke. "I left society because of war. Had the great sage Running Bull not found me for this task I would not have returned. He said it was of great importance, and only those that are worthy to Dance Spears with Champions should come."

[Paperscrap]

Ember's eyes would widen a little at his remarks, the pyromancer apparently finding herself at a disadvantage. "Ahahaha... you shouldn't say such things." she'd respond awkwardly before moving on as quickly as she possibly could. "As for your furry legs, one would likely be fascinated to hear all of the specializations mother nature makes for her children!" She started with enthusiasm, face lighting up at the opportunity to discuss a favorite topic of hers. "For instance, have you ever heard of a platypus? It's a rather bizarre little creature - a mammal in fact... though it lays eggs! It also has a bill, but that's beside the point. Where I was going was this is that its body is covered in a rather warm and insulating fur. It's because of this that a creature like a platypus can live in the waters of their territories; whether cold, or not. However, if you were to take one of those poor platypus..." she struggled for a moment, obviously trying to think of how best to pluralize the word properly, "platypusi... platypusses away from their natural habitat and throw them into the arctic norths, they'd surely freeze their little tails off! Oh, they have tails too by the way. Interesting creatures, truly." Realizing at this point that she'd strayed quite a bit from the topic at hand, she paused before giving him a flustered look and continuing. "That's why I think it makes sense that your fur doesn't do much good here. You're like a platypus in the arctic." That last deceleration would be followed by a brief and awkward moment of silence, the mousy woman simply staring for a second before realizing she had something else to say. "Though, if you don't mind me saying so, I think the bear image very much fits still. There have been plenty of nomads who've looked to the animal for strength in battle! Surely mimicking one of them could not be a bad thing."

Finally stopping after her rapid fire and ever so slightly off topic response, she'd afterwords take in his story with seemingly great interest; although that appeared to be a habit of hers towards all things academic. "Really now? Is that so? Gruumsh the orc deity, am I right? Oh, I've heard of stories of him before! Awful, terrible things!" Realizing at this point that she'd seen a half orc in the room earlier, she'd afterwards lower her voice a few decibels before continuing; not wanting to offend as much as not wanting to be subject to a rebuking. "Is it true that he threw an entire plane at Chernoggar? How does one even do that?! Surely a bull that has his blessings would have been a formidable foe. Was there a trick they employed to win the day? A special weapon, or relic? Just where did the battle take place? You'll have to tell me the whole story, if it wouldn't be too much!"

She reached out to take his hand for a rather stiff shake as he offered it, the heat emanating from her hand quite noticeable."Oh, you're Barases! she'd begin energetically, although her face would quickly become downcast as she realized that she'd in fact not heard of his name before. "Ah... no... I'm sorry, but I cannot lie. I haven't heard of you. I've spent most of my years in the academy at Windcrest, however, so don't take it for personal offense. It would have been a very bad thing for a younger me to have been wandering about before I was able to control my... quirks. Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Emberlyn. A pleasure."

[WaffleLord]

The door to the inn opens quietly and a human male of middle age walks in. Nondescript, unimportant, and wholly forgettable would be the three best describers for this nobody: average height, middle class tunic with worn, lined cloak and muffler, tri-corned hat, and weathered boots and breaches. Most in the bar area didn’t glance a second time at the newcomer but to someone who lived a life where your survival was based on watching your surroundings, too much uninteresting was something to keep an eye on. Indeed, he seems too able to pass unnoticed, gliding through the crowd as a sharp bowed boat might slice through smooth water. None pay attention to him as he weaves towards a side hallway, but as each of you look at him, he meets your eyes with a subtle nod and gestures with his head to follow him. He steps inside a side parlor and leaves the door open.

[Felhammer]

The Satyr smiles, "I have heard of these strange creatures - the Platypus... Platypi... Platypuses before. In fact I once read a most magnificent tale of a young maiden - who was a Pyromancer - who saved an entire city from a engorged Platypus who could breath fire and lay city-destroying sized eggs., if you can believe it! Her master had created the behemoth and was slain by his own creation. To save the town, the Pyromancer allowed herself to be swallowed whole! Once inside the beasts' gullet, she cast a torrent of fire spells that burned through his neck, killing it moments before he was to whack the city with his mighty beaver tail! So if I am such a beast, then I pray I do not cross any beautiful fire wizards." As he says the last line, he gives an ever so slight wink to Emberlyn.

Barases' heart swells as she takes interest in his favorite tale! Most only have a passing interest in the story - to find another who is acutely interested as he is truly a blessing. "Indeed milady, Gruumsh is a terrible deity - few cross him and live to tell the tale!" He nods as she recites her knowledge of Chernoggar, "Aye, I have heard this as well! The ways of the gods are most mysterious - and terrifying - if I do say so myself! Gruumsh and Bane fight often, it is no surprise that the two would battle with fittingly large chess pieces."

As Ember inquires about the tale of Sail Maegg and Keunid, a smile crosses his face once more, "Interestingly enough, the two found the beast most terrifying and decidedly too powerful. The Bull's mighty charges were a sight to be seen! It is said the Bull could charge a mile in mere seconds and the earth would quake every time the Bull laid a hoof on the ground! Their first few encounters proved decidedly unsuccessful as the Bull was simply too fast to be caught once it began to move. Realizing this, the two friends shared a glance and in an instant hatched an unstated plan to defeat the bull. Keunid baited the bull into charging, however moments before it moved, Sail Maegg ran up from behind the Bull and grabed the beast's tail to prevent it from charging! The Bull crieed out in anger at first, which turned to cries of horror as it helplessly watched Keunid run up and swing his mighty axe - beheading the Bull in a single glorious stroke! Sail Maegg and Keunid are heralded heroes by the commonfolk and are forever remembered for their noble deed!" While he is reciting the tale, he stands up and performs certain actions appropriate for the tale - such as emulating the bull charging, showing how the Maegg grasped the beast's tail and the final swing of Keunid's axe.

When Ember says she has not heard of him, Barases grows depressed - he is obviously not as famous as he had hoped but he quickly regains his footing by declaring, "Well Miss Emberlyn, you may not have heard of me prior to this day but you have heard of me now and that, my dear lady, is all that matters."

Barases watches most common and inconspicuous man he had ever laid his eyes upon walk in, make eye contact and head for a back room. Barases looks down to his companion - it seems we are being summoned. Let us hope this is the beginning of both a wondrous adventure and..." He pauses for a moment to look into Emberlyn's eyes, "a fantastic friendship." He extends his hand out to help her stand and walks with her into the back room.

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Putting his book away, and snuffing hois great pipe, Malikar stands and makes his way to the side parlor.

[Surrealistik]

The tricorn wearing everyman is but momentarily glimpsed by Garithak before he is dismissed offhand, his grey commonality doing little to capture the genasi's interest. Only by the relative novelty of his arrival, the unaccustomed parting of the entrance on a slow night did this banal stranger manage to in any way command the captain's attention. Before long however, the warrior finds himself again drawn through purposeful eye contact and the incline of this nondescript's head summoning him to his expected business.

"That's our cue; about damn time."

Grumbles the once field marshal as he vaults to his feet, casually tossing a handful of silvers upon the bar.

"Looks like we might just get in a little 'spear dancing' after all. C'mon Brutus."

At that the genasi clomps into the designated side booth, elemental companion echoing every step with the tremulous thunder of its footfalls.

[Ridai]

"After you, Capt'n," Grai says, lifting her half-filled mug to her lips and finishing it in one go lasting only a few heartbeats. After slamming down the tankard on the bar and wiping her mouth, the half-orc follows after. Standing easily over six feet tall, she towers over most people present.

On the way, her eyes are drawn to the couple also approaching the booth, especially the female. Some people might take issue with the smell or messy dress, but to someone leading Grai's lifestyle, she is oh so interesting, with a juicy bit of danger and exoticness mixed in. Naturally, right up her alley. The satyr next to her looks familiar and glimpses of fighting bears in the forest at night, lots of alcohol and having a blast (of course, only the first really helps distinguish the situation) combine to an only slowly solidifying memory. Eh, she'll recall soon enough, maybe he even recognizes her first, giving him a tentative look just in case.

[Paperscrap]

Ember seemed to be enthralled by his silly tale, although it was quite obvious from her expression that she was very doubtful of the validity of it. The end of it would cause her to shake her head from left to right in silly dismissal. "Surely you're joking! What sort of mad mage would seek to create such an odd subject? Still, I find the idea of a colossal version of one of those creatures to be a distinctly adorable end. I can only imagine the shear novelty of having one's home trampled by one of those little - er, well, large, I suppose - flippered feet might make for an interesting tale in the afterlife."

Her interest in the second story seemed to be more concrete than the first; her dark eyes still remaining transfixed as she took in both words and body language alike. "Oh my! A mile in seconds? I'm trying to imagine that. Why, assuming three seconds per mile, the creature would have moved... 20, 60... 1,200 miles per hour! I'd say that's... 1,200, maybe 15... 80 times faster than the average person could hope to achieve. Inconceivable! To be honest, I'm not even sure if the eye can easily process things of such a velocity; to dodge, that is. I'll have to check upon returning to the academy." Having gone on an unnecessary mathematical rant, the mage would place a finger to her chin as her logical mind sought to put more constraints on the tale for her own mental image; simultaneously unintentionally robbing the story of some of its fun and magic as she did so. "I suppose they would have had the advantage in maneuverability to a degree; sheer momentum alone, assuming it's as large as I'd imagine, would have likely made it difficult to turn on short order; especially if it were moving at its full speed. Then again, divine beasts aren't necessarily known to be constrained by normal physics. To think! Sail Maegg must have been a man of great strength to pull off that feat; surely the beast was. I'm sure the same could be said of Keunid, to take off the creature's head in only one blow. That's nothing to say of their instinctive reactions; if anything, their victory might have not been possible had they not been so quick on their feet. ...I dare say, I'd rather not run into anything that nasty in my time on this plane. The same goes for any creatures hundreds of orders of magnitude greater than their natural state."

Her smile would grow more confident after taking his hand, nodding in agreement; her eyes catching the man walking off as well as the others she recognized from earlier following. To say they looked physically intimidating to her would be speak the obvious; although it was better to have an intimidating person on your side than against you. "As I'm sure it will be." Gathering her things, Ember would stand and follow; visibly becoming a little more anxious with each step.

[WaffleLord]

Just down the short hall, the door to the lounge stands open. Turning the corner you see a room lit only by the hearth at the far end. The plain man is in the process of lighting the sconces that rest upon the walls. At the center of this small room is a rectangular table that can seat eight. A leather rucksack sits on the table at the far end, presumably belonging to your host. As you cross the doorway, he turns. When he smiles, he whole countenance changes. A lively smile, friendly eyes, and a bouncy gait as he comes to pump your hands in greeting give you a much different impression than the man who skulked through the barroom moments ago.

Standing straight now, his six foot tall frame looks unbent by hard work, and his hands are soft and uncalloused. His brown hair flecked with ample gray reveal his middle age, but the years seem enjoyed, not weighing heavily upon his soul. The wrinkles on his face do not show crags weathered from adventuring, but rather soft, “indoor” living. He greets you each in turn with great enthusiasm.

"Emberlynn, a delight to finally meet you in person. Barases, your legend precedes you. Malikar, I’m indebted that you were able to join us. Captain, a pleasure, sir. Grai, I am in awe of some of the stories I have heard about you. Please, have seat, friends. I am honored that you have decided to hear my offer."

"I am Donal Mercathy. I 'arrange' things. I would not dare call myself an adventurer, but I have many connections with people of that sort throughout the Nentir Vale. I have found a job for myself in matching people with things that need to get done. If I hear rumor of a need one place, I check it out, analyze what it might take to do the job, and get those parts together from somewhere else. At first, it was mainly work with the markets. Grain here for livestock there, harvest need hands, hands need work, I merely put the two together. Some problems are more weighty than others and need more direct and forceful intervention. For my part, I ask a small fee on the side from the parties to respect my participation, but it is reasonable and I have yet to receive a complaint from any of my deals. Both parties feel that they have come out ahead by my arrangements. I have recently come across a situation that is in need of the special attention that a group with your…talents…could provide."

"Until recently, trading has been fair with the southern city of Harken in the heart of the Harkenwold. Caravans have come up every other week for the last seven years without fail. Through the worst inclement weather, even threat of war, you could align the stars by the arrival of their wagons. Last came to a crashing halt last month when no traders came from Harken. Three weeks ago, the absence of the Harken shipment was noted only by the local merchants. Last week after the second lapse, the town council became very concerned about the missing caravans. Riders were sent to Harken with queries about their well-being. None have returned. Sendings have gone unanswered or expired, seeking their target beyond their duration. We must find out what has happened."

[WaffleLord]

"The town council has put it to me to assemble a group willing and able to travel to Harken and deal with whatever might have happened there. My contacts have informed of your qualifications and I must say I am rather pleased with what I have found. Seasoned veterans, learned scholars: good souls all. But I do not expect pro bono work. The town council has offered a reward, leveraged against your results and success of reinstating trade. My percentage has already been secured, and my contract stipulations have been met by the council. I insist on reasonable salvage rights for my employees to recoup their expenses. As long as you are not outright looting, you may keep what you feel is a reasonable share of treasures found or ‘rescued’."

"If I have misjudged you or you abilities, please forgive me, the fault would be mine. If you are unwilling to take on this task, I understand. You are under no obligation to accept. You may go and Pelor's speed to you. If you do choose to undertake this mission, I ask that you make a pledge to see this task through to the end. There is no magical geas involved. I seek only your word."

He takes a long drawn breath, sighs, and looks to each one of you.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak immediately takes the proffered seat with a grunt, exhibiting the patent relief of a career soldier in comfort.

"So you're a middleman taking a finder's fee, alright. Got nothin' 'gainst a broker so long as he works for the commission, and his cut isn't greater than his worth."

A frown then creases the officer's features as he reflects upon Donal's words, the deep fold of his lips betraying a profound sense of worry.

"That said, I know well the people of Harkenwold; rugged, self-sufficient, enduring. A soldier's spirit in the lot of em. Anything that would disrupt the caravans this long is a damned serious threat, I'll tell you all that much. "

Leaning back as per his usual manner, the genasi rubs contemplatively against the smooth underside of his chin, fingers playing idly along the coarse, bare flesh.

"Yet you suppose the five of us can handle it? I like to think of myself as a capable warrior n' I know Grai sure as hell is, but you'll have to forgive me fer doubtin' that a handful of us can deal with somethin' that has silenced a whole region, and any riders you've sent. Far as we know, all of that area has been laid waste, n' right now we haven't got the slightest idea as to the reason. Given that your horsemen have all keeled, seems that whatever's there hasn't quite seen fit to leave either."

He shrugs, head shaking, his brows knit in open perplexion.

"Listen, I don't suppose you've got any kind of recon on the matter? Did the last caravan to come in report anything of note? More importantly, what'd we be takin' down in pay anyways?"

[WaffleLord]

Listening intently to Garithak's questions and concerns, Donal nods his head.

"Good points. It could be something as simple as a clog of bandits along the King's Road or unseasonable weather. They are hearty but no force of will can make your cart get over a washed-out bridge."

"A small group can do things a large group can't. Get in quick, make sharp decisions, strike if necessary or return if the situation is too much. Military inertia and 'chain of command' decision making would slow a larger force. I'm sure you've seen it before. If it seems beyond your capacity, return with what information you can."

At the mention of pay, Donal smiles a sly grin. "Ever the mercenary, Captain. As I said, the pay will be commensurate to what you accomplish. If you simply come back with a fallen tree, I will cover your traveling expenses. In case of life-saving, region threatening events that you eliminate to our satisfaction, I am authorized to grant payment up to 3,000 gp. Each."

Donal lowers his tone and frowns. "Unfortunately, I have little to give you as far as reconnaissance. The King's Road is clear to the Harkenwood but the eastern paths by the Dawnforge mountains have been blocked by snow since the earliest winter falls. The last caravan that came through had no important news of the area. The Bentwick brothers, Darien and Martin, made the run as usual, bringing their harvest along with other farmers' product. The only thing they said out of the ordinary was that they may have a special crop for us next time. They usually tease us with what the harvest will bring, but they seemed extra excited about what they might bring us. The Bentwick's pride themselves on having the finest produce in Harken. Sometimes I wonder how they do it."

[Ridai]

"Who knows, could hear another soon," Grai answers, firmly shaking Donal's hand. Once it is offered to her, she throws herself into her seat, resting her boot-encased feet on the table's corner.

The half-orc lets Garithak handle the talking, like years before, waggling her foot and idly tapping her thigh with her fingers. Upon being asked whether she would join in, her answer is simple. "Easy. If Capt'n's in, I'm in. If not, eh, you get th' idea. Still, hopin' for cultists, gnolls or Gruumshies, clobb'rin' those's always tons o' fun." A gleeful, toothy grin spreads across Grai's face fueled by fond memories.

[Felhammer]

Barases grows giddy with excitement as Donal speaks, he thinks to himself, My own adventure! I shall be a hero! All shall remember my name: Barases Darkfur - Savior of Harken!" Yes... Yes! This sounds GREAT! I must accept... But I also need money to support myself long term. Don't say 'I'll do it' until after the others negotiate for a slightly better reward...

As Grai, Donnal and Garithak discuss the mission, Barases cannot help but swing his hoof back and forth along the floor, slowly at first, then speeding up until suddenly Barases thrusts himself up to a standing position, from where he blurts out, "I ACCEPT YOUR OFFER MR. DONNAL!"

"GAH! What did I just do!? So much for getting a little extra money to tide me over after this adventure...

[Surrealistik]

Donal's reaction at Garithak's inquiry about pay manages to draw a gravelly chuckle from the muscleclad warrior, though his look is clearly perturbed.

"Look mate, don't get me wrong, I'm as much for helpin' people as the next guy, maybe even more so, but I'm no paladin, an' no church is gonna pay my way, nor am I some ascetic without need for gold in the first place. I'd be insane not to ask about danger pay for a job like this. You can call me a merc, but I'm not mercenary; never much cared for the implication. I gave some of my best years in service to Fallcrest during the Bloodspear War. So long as we're clear on that, we can get down to business."

As the odd satyr appears to get caught up in his own excitement, culminating in an overeager outburst, the veteran does the best he can to keep things professional.

"Now then, you're asking us to go blind into a dangerous situation. I say dangerous cause you've sent several riders in and they haven't come back. I don't know about you, but to me that strongly suggests some fallen tree or washed out bridge isn't the problem here, so chances are we'll be puttin' our necks out."

Garithak stares intently at the man, face entirely serious, all but devoid of emotion, as if to emphasize the gravity of the matter.

"That being a given, it's only fair we get some money up front. 1.5k now, the rest when the job is done, and if it turns out this isn't worth your while, we'll return what's fair, and you put the rest on our tab if any. Mind you at three thousand we're selling ourselves for a song, and I imagine any one of us barring the satyr wouldn't be remiss for asking more, especially knowing as little about the job as we do."

Momentarily pausing to allow his logic sink in, he continues.

"As for the recon, I've got to admit, I was expecting a little more than news of some farmer's bumper crop. Still, can't help but wonder at the guy's excitement. You said it was unusual, exceptional. It's a real stretch, but I wonder if that might have anything to do with the situation."

[Paperscrap]

"A pleasure, Donal." the mage would reply with a polite smile before finding her own seat amongst those available; her hands rather immediately going to work fidgeting as a method of dealing with anxiety.

After the initial greeting, her voice would fade from the conversation as she took in the details going back and forth; apparently sketching out a few possible alternatives while trying very hard not to make any critical assumptions that could pollute her train of thought by forcing her to consider the problem in only one direction. Everything was going rather fine until he happened to mention the Bentwick's special crop; the mystery pulling on her mind with as much weight as the far more serious task that had been assigned to them.

"Hmm... I see. That does sound like quite the conundrum. Forgive me, as I'm not all that familiar with the area; how much trade generally goes through to Harken? I'm mostly just interested in how many individual wagons are among these caravans number. Are they well guarded? As for my own input on the task, it's certainly got my attention. The number of possibilities are far too enthralling to leave alone; even if the nature of the problem does turn out to be rather mundane." She'd pause for a bit before realizing she had more questions to spit out at the poor contact; giving him time to answer and process what she'd just said before bugging him further.

"I suppose a map of the trade route would be provided? I'd also assume that this would not be the first time that the mountain pass has been clogged with snow. Are there no defined contingencies for travelers to take? Given that you say the caravans typically arrive on time regardless of inclement weather, I can only speculate what may have been different this time."

[WaffleLord]

Smiling brightly at the satyr acceptance, Donal thumps the table, "That's the enthusiasm I'd hoped for! Well done, Barases! Welcome."

Adopting a more somber tone, placing his hand upon his chest, and bowing slightly towards Garithak, "My apologies if I offend, Captain." Knitting his brow in contemplation, "It is a steep retainer on faith, but I suppose you must prepare for the worst. As for the tune of the song with which I purchase you, the right to salvage is usually enough to interest most, but it is evident you are of different metal." He consults a paper or two from his satchel. "Very well. The monies will be made available for you. However, in exchange for this much upfront, I'm going to ask for something in return. There is a family farm on the edge of Harken, the Weistruabs. I ask that you stop by and check on them, personally. If Ilyana is there, tell her 'Donal requests a sign of good faith.' She'll understand. Please return to me what she gives you, unopened and unharmed."

Chuckling at the barrage of questions from Emberlyn, Donal smiles again. "There are usually two wagons, driven by the Bentwick brothers themselves. Two or three of riders usually accompany them, whether hired guards, or sons of local farmers. It is a rarity to encounter bandits on the road. We've had fewer than five incidents in twelve years. There is a well known campsite rest stop in the middle of the Harken forest they use for their night stay. Over the years, they've built it up enough that beasts of the forest don't bother them much."

"Yes, I will provide a map of the area. The mountain-side pass fills up fairly regularly from mid-winter to early spring, mainly run-off from the mountains, blocking the trail to Hammerfast. Their winter barley comes through Fallcrest. The King's Road stays clear year round. I can't see how the weather may have stoppped them. For the last few weeks, its been down-right pleasant for this time of year."

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

The bull sits on the floor, puffing on his pipe.

"What pull do you have over Running Bull that he would call me here for a mercenary mission? It does not seem the sort of thing I would be interested in, and he knows better than that...so what is the catch?"

[Surrealistik]

Garithak waves off the man's apology, shaking his head with a laugh.

"It's fine. Back to business."

The captain leans back, head cradled in his folded hands.

"But here's my problem see; in this case right of salvage only really means anythin' where danger is involved, and even then it doesn't guarantee a payoff, so I'm not about to overestimate its value. Of course, it's not going anywhere either unless I walk."

Donai is subject to Garithak's earlier look of grave sternness; it is painfully evident the elemental isn't bluffing.

"Moving on, the terms of your offer are acceptable, but that's the only freebie I'm allowin'; any more is gonna cost extra, at least as far as my participation is concerned, 'n Grai's too it would seem. So there are my terms, 'n it's not costin' you a copper more than you were prepared to pay comin' in."

He then extends his hand, its rough, earthen frame held aloft, straight and unwavering before the middleman.

[WaffleLord]

Looking over at the minotaur, Donal has a quizzical expression."To be honest, friend Malikar, I have no idea why Running Bull would send you, for, truly, I had others in mind. You know as well as I that no one, NO ONE, could make Running Bull do anything other than what he wants to do. He is one to be admired and trusted. For whatever reasons he sent you here, he has his logic, and I am not going to question his esteemed wisdom. He has earned my respect and I accept his choice as if it were my own."

Seeing Garithak extend his hand in bond, he moves around the table to face him. Donal grips it slowly and shakes it with solemnity. "We have an accord." He releases his hand and walks slowly back to his chair. "I have accepted your terms based on good faith and your reputation. Remember what they say about 'reputation'. It is people talking, is gossip. Until you show me it is true. Then it is fact." He takes two small sacks out of his rucksack and tosses them to the center of the table. "Here are enough gems to bring you and your associate your 1500 gold. As you say, it is not more than I expected to pay, but until you have earned what you've been given, the town council considers you overpaid. Show them I have not misplaced my faith."

He glances around the table with a smile returning to his face, lobbing a sack to come to a rest by Barases. He looks to Emberlyn and Malikar with raised eyebrows. "What say you?"

[Felhammer]

Barases eyes open wide as the sack is tossed towards him. Barely containing a wide grin, he slouches in his seat to peer inside the half-open, wondrous, magical, enchanting, lovely, amazing, BEAUTIFUL, bag of gems. His eyes are met by a riot of color - red, blue, green, pink, amber, yellow... All the colors Barases had ever dreamed of were contained in a single bag, which lay mere inches from his greedy eyes. After a few minutes of gawking, Barases sits up and coughs, acting as if his wide-eyed ogling never occurred.

He stares into Donnal's eyes and says, "By Moradin's hammer, by the suns of Athas, I shall complete your quest!"

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar snorts, sending twin plumes of smoke into the air from his nostrils, but nods in agreement to the accord. He stares across the room, clearly deep in thought about something.

Why would Running Bull send for me? This man is right, there are many others the Seer knows that would be better suited for this. I am trying to get away from fighting at all, and he sends me where there is very likely to be a bloody fight. It is curious...

[Paperscrap]

"Please, count me among those interested in seeing this through." Emberlyn would respond with a slight smile; extending her hand as she did so to make it official. Apparently any hint of nervousness she'd felt earlier had faded into the background compared to the task ahead. "You've my word that I'll commit every effort necessary to this task. It wouldn't look very well for a professor at Windcrest to take the money and run, so to speak. That being said, I will admit the idea of receiving a portion of the money in advance would be quite helpful for my situation; more so for practical reasons than issues of trust. I'm afraid I misinterpreted the missive to a degree and find myself with a relative dearth of supplies."

Having taken her moment to address their contact, she'd afterward tilt her head towards the rest of the party - hoping to start things off on the right foot. "I look forward to working with you all. I'm sure this will be a most interesting expedition."

[Ridai]

Hearing the extra task in return for upfront payment, Grai shrugs. "Would've let'cha add that fo' free. Watch'n' a guy fearin' for his sweetheart ain't my thing."

That Barases fellow sure looks like a kid who's been handed the key to a warehouse full of toys and candy, greatly amusing the half-orc and even making her laugh out loud when she sees his final reaction. "Ain't have ta be a sage to know this'll gonna be great." Yes, she definitely remembers the guy now. Been a while, but it's coming back.

Upon being adressed by Emberlyn, Grai responds with what must be a shockingly warm and joyful smile for an half-orc (at least those not used to Grai), meant for the whole group. "Pleasure's all mine. Feels good to move out as a group 'n' have people to look out for again. Ain't the solitary type. Not for long, anyway."

[Surrealistik]

Garithak offers Emberlyn a cordial nod in reply.

"Then it looks like we're all settled up. Good. Seeing how not everyone is prepared for the journey, we should take a moment to stock before heading out. Besides, I've got fifteen hundred burnin' a hole in my pocket."

Sitting forward, the genasi drops a set of meaty palms upon the table, thrusting himself aloft.

"Now before we head out, anythin' else we should know?"

[WaffleLord]

Donal begins packing his strewn items into his rucksack. "I've told as much as I think I know. I'll be in the tavern for a while if you have questions or need a talk-around. I have reserved three rooms for you upstairs for the night." Nodding to Emberlyn, "I'll have the maps and a hearty breakfast for you all tomorrow morning. Thank you again." He taps his heart twice and with a sweeping, downward gesture says, "Washtae. Until we meet again." He slides around the table, dropping small sacks before Emberlyn and Malikar, and makes his way to the common room.

[Surrealistik]

"Great. Gonna set to shoppin' before I retire; may as well get it in while I can."

Garithak nods at the others, head panning across the span of those gathered.

"Rest of you are welcome to join me, Grai especially."

Without further delay, the genasi rises and is out of the room, beckoning at Brutus to follow.

Leaving the upscale tavern with a brisk saunter, Garithak seeks out the nearest store of magical wares.

[Ridai]

"Aw, pamperin' us, aren't'cha?" Grai quips when she hears about the rooms and the breakfast.

Once Garithak gets up, Grai does likewise, leaving beside her superior. "Right with ya, Capt'n," she adds. She doesn't even feel the need to discuss who's getting what room, since it seems perfectly obvious to her. Grai didn't share a tent with Garithak during the war (again, obviously, due to the vast difference in rank, caused because of her many, many formal demotions), but she's still damn protective of the genasi after all those years.

[Paperscrap]

"It was nice meeting you." Emberlyn would nod politely towards the direction of their employer as he left, only afterwards turning her attention towards the party once more.

"As for shopping, that sounds like a rather splendid idea if you wouldn't mind me tagging along! Assuming the rest of you agree, I'd think it prudent to leave as soon as possible, lest our trail grow cold; preferably sometime tomorrow morning. This afternoon should be sufficient time to stock up on supplies on my part. Of course, if anyone has objections, I'm not so inclined to force my opinions over yours."

[Ridai]

Grai chuckles. "Thought that be the plan all along." Later, at the evening's destination, Grai is having a good look at the wares available in tandem with Garithak.

DM/Garithak onlyWhile browsing, Grai suddenly stops. She reaches out and picks up a pair of silver earrings, elegant yet also surprisingly sturdy. Elven craftsmanship. She is soon informed of it's property of giving the wearer the furious strength of a raging bull when he or she goes for a similar all-out attack, adding that he bought it off of some merchant several months ago, as well as the price of 1800gp. "Thanks, I'll... I'm consider'n'," Grai mumbles to send the owner away for a moment.

If Garithak looks closer, he recognizes the design. They once belonged to Vela, an elven maiden that fought alongside both of them in the war, using nothing but her gods-given limbs to attack and her skin, reflexes as well as clothes on her back to keep herself safe. Most of the men thought Vela and Grai having to work together was a disaster waiting to happen, given the hostility between elves and orcs. Instead, they were like sisters seperated at birth, deadly on the battlefield and harmonious in how their personalities and skills complemented one another, most notably Grai's wild spirit and Vela's effortless wisdom.

That is, until Vela died. The troops getting ambushed by the orcs, Vela sacrificed herself to allow most of those who were still alive to escape. It took almost a dozen men to stop Grai from throwing herself against overwhelming odds, breaking the bones of half of them before being knocked out. When she awoke, Grai violently shifted from depression and anger for days, especially when they found Vela's defiled corpse hung as a taunt.

Grai grabs what money she has, counts it, counts it again, counts it a third time. Her features harden, only visible to Garithak and Brutus, showing the telltale signs of bitter frustration, something her superior has only very, very rarely seen. It isn't enough. Grai's fist clenches, her pride making her unable to ask for money or beg for a lowered price, too angered by her inability to acquire the earrings by herself through legal means, but having nothing to direct her anger at, knowing Vela wouldn't want her to "honor" her by taking her belongings by force or whatever means necessary.

Grai just keeps staring at the only thing to remember Vela by, trying to work up the courage to put them back onto the display before she makes a scene, the helplessness suiting her not one bit.

((OOC: Hope you'll pardon the storytime and that this is kind of a downer, but the idea for this came to me very suddenly and I didn't want to just ignore it.))

[Surrealistik]

Noting Grai's obvious distress, Garithak clasps a palm upon his comrade's shoulder, its warm heft reassuring. Squeezing gently, he leans over and quietly addresses her, voice barely a whisper:

"Don't have much left, but I'll provide you what I can. Vrai deserves better than having her mementos pawned off and passed about like cheap trinkets."

At that, he removes his hand, pressing a sum of gold into her own before he goes to make his purchase.

[Felhammer]

Barases bids his employer fair well and heads off with his new companions to shop. As he re-enters the tavern, he clinks the sack of gems next to his ear, giggling like a little child each time. He then looks to his new friends and says, "I am going to go find some Everlasting Chalk and a better Bedroll. Oooh, and after that I am going to buy a Wineskin! Every adventurer should have one of those!"

[Ridai]

Grai quietly accepts the money, having to gather her strength to pay for the earrings and leave the store. Anxious, Grai puts them on, comfort spreading through her as she feels closer to Vela again. She remains quiet until Garithak and her reach their room.

Garithak"Th... thank you so much for this." Thanking Garithak for what exactly he did is hard for her, given the circumstances, as her superior knows. "It's nice t'be reminded why ev'ryone o' us refused to serve under anyone else."

The half-orc smiles, reminiscing briefly about times missed for a long time, before saluting, which hardly ever happened. "Ya deserve the best 'n' I'll give ya the best, Capt'n. An' if I can't, I'll become the best, damn it," she says almost in defiance of whatever obstacles might lie ahead, speaking her mind like she almost always does.

"Now frickin' say somethin' before I change my mind." Still good ol' Grai.

[Paperscrap]

"A good idea if I've ever heard of one." Ember would reply towards the satyr, smiling faintly as she did so. "I believe I'm in the market for makeshift shelter and sleeping arrangements myself. Would the rest of you wish to pool resources together for a carriage, by any chance? It seems prudent to follow the trade route. Given that, I imagine the transportation will be quite welcome on our feet."

Afterwards, the mage would go shopping. It was by fancy that Emberlyn entered the weapon store; simply trying to kill some time after purchasing all of the mundane things on her list. Unable to really make use of any of the fine weapons there, her eyes were simply content with glancing over things in a lackadaisical way. However, she'd soon find there to be one item that seemed strangely out of place in a shop of swords and maces. A... staff? As the trained mage glanced over the weapon, her heart instantly began to pitter patter in a way most would associate with pure adrenaline.

"Oh my...!" this was clearly an implement of fine make; an artifact whose workmanship and age alone would command a price far greater than the paltry sum of 3,400 pieces it was advertised for anywhere else in the world. Looking as suspicious as a thief cradling a much coveted jewel, Ember glanced left and right for signs of the shopkeeper before turning her ever widening eyes back onto her prize. So many questions were running through her mind -- "Why is this here, in this tiny little town of all places?", "Does the shopkeeper know what he's got here?", "Am I dreaming?", "Is this right? Should I tell him?" In the end though, regardless of the guilt already starting to eat on her conscience, she realized that she just couldn't leave the implement be. She needed it.

Unable to hide her satisfaction at the deal, a rather uncharacteristically impish grin formed on her face as she went over to the shopkeeper to finalize this purchase. It was there, with trembling hands, that she laid down the weapon in front of him; her eyes avoiding contact, unable to glance away from her treasure even if she'd wanted. "Hello." She'd awkwardly blurt out, the adrenaline and guilt making it very difficult to carry out a normal conversation. "I would like to purchase this, please. If it's possible, I'd like to trade you my old staff - a very fine piece crafted in Windcrest - and 1,600 gold pieces. You'll find my staff worth somewhere in the range of 20,000 gold pieces." Realizing that bluff was a little extensive in the heat of the moment, her face paled as she corrected it. "Sorry, 2,000. I meant 2,000. It's a... it's a good staff."

Having a flash of genius, she'd then deftly pull off one of the smoothest maneuvers to deflect any suspicion ever. Namely, she reached over to the side of the counter and added a 20 GP display item to the list of things she was interested in purchasing. "I'd also like this healing potion, please." A hopeful pause would follow as she very slowly glanced up towards him, the anxiety of her offer being rejected entirely palpable in her expression.

[Felhammer]

Barases eyes light up at the thought of owning a carriage, "Many a great stories have begun when a band of adventurers set off on a carriage! In fact one tale I once heard had the heroes hide inside empty ale caskets to sneak into an Dwarven brewery!" Smiling, the Satr proclaims, "We should try that some time!"

Barases then wanders around with his new companions, looking at this and that. He eventually spots a used magic shop and decides he's found the shop for him. The Satyr enters the store, immediately the smell of must, mold and sweat assaults his nose. He likes the smell, its the smell of adventure! The Satyr looks around the shop, going from one magic clock to a gorilla hand to a supposed genie lamp. He passes all such items over because after this adventure he would have more than enough money to purchase all the eclectic items his heart desired. No, he was on a quest to find two particular items. Beneath piles of junk and feet of dust, Barases eventually finds that which he seeks - a half-used stick everlasting chalk and a musky bedroll. The shopkeep parts with the items for a standard price, which Barases happily pays.

He meets up with the others and displays his finds, "Everlasting chalk and a good bedroll that reeks of adventure and good times!"

[Surrealistik]

Though surrounded by countless wonders, Garithak uses his time with characteristic efficiency, rarely pausing to gawk or browse as he methodically sorts his way through a forest of wood and steel, navigating sprawling barriers of weapon racks to discover the implement of his choice. Failing to spare even the briefest moment, he plucks the greatspear from its display, an upward curling of his lips betraying the genasi's evident sense of elation. Upon seeing its exorbitant price however, his happy demeanour quickly sours.

The soldier draws his longsword, regarding as though lost in the polished edge of the blade, the glint of its cold sheen reflecting the rue in his eyes.

"We've been through a lot together you n' I, liberated villages, lead platoons to victory, slain more orcs than I can count... but the time has come to part, an' I must be as prepared as I may. I should hope the merchant sees fit to provide you to an owner worthy of your legacy. If I am to fall, you at least will remain. Fare well."

Sheathing the weapon with slow, patient deference, he goes on to make his purchase, once brisk movements now weighted with hesitation. On his way to the counter, he sees Grai, looking intently at a pair of earrings that appear strangely familiar...


****

Garithak simply shakes his head, offering the subordinate a gentle smile, chuckling in his usual self-depreciating way. Striding forward, he wraps his arms about the half-orc, pressing her tightly against the warmth of his body.

"I wouldn't expect anything less Lieutenant."

[Ridai]

Grai feels her face burn up while emitting a low, aggressive growl at the same time. "Oh, now ya done it! No milit'ry no more, so yer not gett'n' away this time!" Ignoring Brutus' presence completely, Grai practically slams her lips against Garithak's, deadset on making her now years-old threat a reality...

((Alright, enough story hijacking from me, fade to black and skip to the next morning, please. :smalltongue:))

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar extinguishes his pipe, and stows it in his backpack. He takes the bag of wealth from his new employer, and heads out to the market. If he must fight, he would at least do so with some additional equipment.

----

Returning several hours later, he says nothing to his new companions, merely returning to sit by the hearth (his massive form fitting nowhere else but the floor) and returning to reading his book. Those that payed attention to him, notice it is a different book this time. A book of ancient legends, usually read to curious children, though many adults enjoy the tales. He lights his pipe again, and puffs on it gently. On his arms glisten red and black gauntlets, and burnished armguards that he was not wearing before.

[WaffleLord]

@Emberlyn
Willie B. tries to keep his face as emotionless as possible. Could it be that his mark-up trick was going to work? This easily? Usually when a staff fighter would come in looking for something special, they would question why a poorly enchanted quarterstaff was priced so highly. He had a story ready about overwhelming odds, last stands, and heroic gestures, but it didn't seem necessary. He could see her barely restrained eagerness. Did she know something he didn't? Impossible. He had received this in a shipment from Crogma. That cheapskate never mislabeled things for fear of missing a copper he felt he was due. "Well, if she's willing to pay." He picked up her offered staff, gave it an appraising once over. "Mesmario could probably do with another one of these by now." "Hmmph. 2,000? I'll wager I'll be lucky to get the 1800 I'll give you for it, but you look like an buyer in need, and my children are hungry. I'll even throw in the potion. Deal?"

[WaffleLord]

Sunrise comes almost reluctantly to Fallcrest. The sun slowly crawls into the clear sky, its heat hardly making a dent in the cold, winter air. While your rooms upstairs are warm and comfortable, the common room downstairs where your breakfast is waiting has a touch of chill. Warm bread, cold meats, and steaming pots of steeping tea sit on the worn, wooden tables along with a yawning Donal Mercathy. "Good morning," he says to each of you as you come downstairs. "I have had a meal prepared, and I have the map that I promised," he tells you as he unrolls a paper. "If you leave soon, you can make it to the halfway camp before dark. It is here, on the map." He gestures to a marked spot in the Harken Forest. "Ilyana's house is here," pointing to a different area, "and this road will take you all the way into town. Have you any questions?"

Map - Harken Unto Harken (http://mmmwaffles.weebly.com/harken-unto-harken.html)

[Ridai]

Grai descends the stairs clearly being in a very good mood, stretching a little while making her way over to the table. "Mornin'," she greets Donal smiling widely and quickly digging into her meal, eating heartily. Starting with that last night, this might be as close as she has come to a perfect day thus far, since the first thing she had to do this morning was deciding between indulging herself by staying in bed (and making Capt'n do the same) or indulging herself by getting up, grabbing breakfast and going off to get to the next fight like in the old days. The beauty o' her tactics, in her words.

"Sounds good," Grai comments between bites. "Wonder 'f mum's 'n' her druid buddies 're on it," she wonders out loud. Nerra is a tough one, after all. If she cares, that is.

[Felhammer]

Barases wakes in the morning with a veritable horde of blankets on top of him. He looks around and stretches before standing up and putting his scarf on. He slowly plods his way downstairs to the tavern and orders a hearty plate of eggy toast, bacon, sausage, biscuits and eggs... Or at least what ever was passed off as such staples at this inn. He eats quickly, sharing a few stories, and a few laughs, with the other patrons. The Satyr then orders a Wine skin - because every adventurer should have one(!) - and asks for a heated waterskin, one that he can strap to the inner lining of his bear fur coat, in order to keep him extra toasty during the first leg of his adventure.

When meeting with his employer, Barases simply nods as he impatiently bounces his leg up and down like an impatient child - the Satyr wants to leave, to find merriment, excitement and riches, and the sooner the better!

[Paperscrap]

"It's a deal!" Emberlyn would enthusiastically respond before reaching out to shake the shop keeps hand, her own trembling from the excitement that the new purchase had brought upon her. For the rest of the night she could be seen safeguarding and cradling the implement to a degree; her demeanor becoming awfully anxious whenever another individual's foot or hand came into close proximity of her new treasure.

----------

Come the next morning, however, she'd apparently forgotten her good fortune as the staff remained in her room. Sleepy and a little bit haggard, the mage would slump down into one of the vacant seats laying about the inn before partaking in breakfast; trying and failing to suppress several yawns of her own in the process. Tea and bread were the two brands of remedy she sought to resist the ever increasing need her body was broadcasting in favor of slipping into a coma. Needless to say, she was only halfway there; but it was probably enough.

"Looksh pretty straight forward." She commented while giving the map a cursory look over, her words a little slurred from the carbohydrates she was currently munching on. "There will be no difficulty in finding the camp trail, I take it? Shpatial projection from a map to my surroundings isn't quite a forte of mine."

[Surrealistik]

Garithak was up early, always early; an onus and relic he'd never quite shook since his late glory days in the Fallcrest army. The genasi's cycles of rest could never quite return to civilian normalcy, to those of individuals unimpeded by considerations of life and death. Though the weight of war no longer hung over nor encumbered him as it once did, a Sword of Damocles compelling his vigilant wakefulness, undeniable force of habit would simply not permit otherwise, carved indelibly into the stone of his being. Despite the fatigue that had come from his shared passion of the prior night, decades of routine easily overcame what lethargy persisted. Thus, when he again met with Donal, the genasi had been fed, and dressed, his accoutrements of travel meticulously prepared, ready to depart on a bare moment's notice. When their paymaster invites questions, Garithak sees fit to respond:

"Don't suppose you might arrange for a means of travel to Ilyana's? While we could certainly make the journey on foot, it'd be in both our best interests if our passage there were to be made swift as possible; it'll take us nearly twice as long to reach her without horses, and given the likely state of things there, I much doubt you'd care for the extra delay."

[Felhammer]

Barasses nods excitedly, "I agree! The faster we get to Ilyana's, the faster we get the job done. Quick, easy, painless. Everyone is happy!"

Aid Another: DC = 10 + 1/2 Garithak's level.

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[WaffleLord]

Donal stops eating, a sausage on a fork midway to mouth. He sets his fork down on his plate, wipes his mouth with a handy cloth, and looks for a long moment at Garithak and Barases, his mouth closed and his brow knit. Slowly, he reaches for his rucksack and takes out a few rumpled papers and reads them over, looking up periodically. "I don't disagree with the need for haste," he says glancing up, "but I thought the 'bargaining' phase was over. Did we not have an accord? Was not an agreement over payment and expectations reached?" He looks from Garithak to Barases and back again questioningly.

He sighs and rubs his eyes. "However, I fear this will not be a case of a fallen tree or broken wagon. Speed is essential. My advance account is tapped out. Let me have a word with the stableman." He nods curtly and excuses himself from the table.

Returning after your meal is finished, Donal slumps down in front of his remaining breakfast. Finding it cold, his slides the plate away, frowning. "I was able to make arrangements for a horse apiece. Having no coin but much need made the animals more valuable, but....there it is. Their cost will be coming off your back-end payment, assuming there is one. Forgive me if I hope there is no need for reward. I would rather try and recoup my loses from you than hear bad news from the Harkenwold." He falls silent for a moment. Once more meeting your eyes he says, "Your mounts should be arriving shortly. Pelor's grace to you all."

[Ridai]

Grai gives a whistle at hearing Donal telling them about the horses. "Upfront pay, real fancy rooms, breakfast 'n' now horses, too? Yer a real fine guy, lemme tell ya that much. An' I ain't forgett'n' who's done me good." Grai doesn't care much about the terms, but getting to the action sooner rather than later is something she can definitely get behind. Her good mood continues without a hitch as she gets up, taking a last sip and heading out to wait for their mounts and to get some fresh air.

[Surrealistik]

"Well Donal, fact is that we were plannin' on marchin' it; not that long to Harken after all, maybe two days on foot if that, an' no reason to hurry along besides that girl of yours."

Garithak shrugs, running an earthen hand about the coarse stubble lining his jaw.

"The way I see it, whether or not we get there fast is all on you friend; it's none of our concern. We haven't got a stake in making sure she's alright, so much as we do in checkin' up, which means this is an optional, out-of-pocket expense. We'll live up to our part of the bargain, but making good time wasn't part of the deal, and I don't see why it should cost us."

Producing a pipe of old, weathered clay from a belt pouch, he fills and lights it, closing his eyes as he savours the aromatic herb. Where wrinkles of fatigue and tension once snaked across the genasi's face now falls the unbroken grey-brown complexion of his skin, ruddy but relaxed and unlined. When they reopen, his eyes fall squarely upon the paymaster.

"You do understand that approachin' you on this matter was a courtesy? Would you prefer we had not seen fit, or known to provide you the option?"

The soldier turns his head, blowing out a hazy plume of grey smoke.

"Now, if you're up on hard times, I can respect that. Not especially big on kickin' a man when he's down, or bullyin' one who's in a bad place, so if you're truly down on your luck, I'll agree to this deduction. But that said, don't you ever lie to me Donal, or abuse my generosity, especially not over a handful of gold, cause I'm not willin' to let that slide, an' I've got a memory longer n' sharper than this here spear."

He thrusts a meaty thumb at the towering weapon strapped to his back, its long heft, and the keenness of its serrated point an imposing sight.

[Paperscrap]

By now, Emberlyn had been up for long enough that she'd finally - and reluctantly - won the battle against sleep. It was for that reason that she was cognizant enough for her jaw to drop a little bit at Garthiak's response; unable to really focus on anything more than the perceived threat he'd just made towards their employer and horse procurer. Though it was hardly her desire to incite anything, her teaching instincts told her it might be best to try and diffuse the situation before there was a chance for any bad blood to form.

"Now, now... I think things are settled. It's perhaps best to leave it at this." She'd butt in, her expression and tone of voice not unlike that of an adult speaking to a child in secondary school. "Everything should be fine from here on out. We've been given as fine a set of accommodations as I'd ever expected, advance pay, and a means of transportation - for that we are in your debt, Donal. You have our word that we'll seek out Ilyana as fast as possible, and we certainly won't tarry when it comes to dealing with this potential threat to Harken."

There was a brief pause before her tone became a little more clinical, the emotion of her speech having faded and transformed into a logical conclusion. "Though I'll admit I spent most of the allowance you provided the very day it was granted towards me, I'll allow you to hold onto the rest just in case the worst should happen. I don't intend to die, but I'd rather the money be spent and used by those deserving rather than fall into the possession of some highwayman in the event that such a fate were to be brought up. Perhaps that will allow you to recuperate some of your losses."

Just gonna give him my 150 GP since it's not like it's enough to really buy anything with and I'd assumedly get it back anyways

[Surrealistik]

Garithak crosses his arms, indignation spreading over his features, lips twisted into a slight downward curl as the other genasi intercedes with her patronizing response.

"You're more than welcome to pay it forward, but I haven't agreed to splurge for Donal's expedience, nor will I unless he truly cannot afford the cost."

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar stands from his place by the hearth, and snuffs his pipe. He shakes the burnt herb and ash from its end into the fireplace, and puts his pipe and herb pouch in the side pocket of his backpack. His book similarly goes into the pocket, handled as gently as if it were a baby. He taps various spots on his backpack, as if looking for things. After a few moments, he is satisfied, and joins the others.

"Horses and I do not get along. I prefer the swiftness of my own two hooves." He steps a little bit away from the others, and unstraps one of his two massive spears. He performs what are obviously military drills with it, stretching and loosening up his massive muscles. His black fur flows from movement to movement, adding a terrifying beauty to the mock blows.

[Felhammer]

Barases rolls his eye - the Minotaur was obviously boasting. Hoof-ed men could ride beasts of burden just as easily as any foot-ed man! Though perhaps he meant his bulk would put too much of a strain on the horse, which was understandable and warranted precautions.

Barases picks out a white horse, "Better to showcase my darkfur against the light color of my horse." thinks the Satyr.

[WaffleLord]

A concerned look crosses Donal's face. "Lying does not profit me one bit, friend. Here are some truths. Yes, I care about the well being of Ilyana. She is a friend, a valued contact, but can handle herself in most cases. Is expediency important? It could be. The unknown is always more dangerous than the known. Would horses be quicker? Certainly, but more expensive and money is limited."

He leans forward. "Let me be clear: I am not your employer, some Lord Bountiful financier with moneybags to spare. I am the middleman, the agent, the arranger, the mediator. The town council has a concern they would like addressed and have given me a set amount of money to handle the situation with the understanding that if bigger problems are found, additional compensation will be provided based on hazard faced and results. That money they gave me is now gone, in your hands and on your backs, at your insisting. All that was allocated for me to use has been used. I have shown as much financial good faith as I physically can."

"Do I have other money?" He leans back and crosses his arms. "Of course. It is my money that I have earned from this job and others like it that I use to live on. I do get paid for my work. It is not a lot, but I would not say I have 'fallen on hard times.' Can I afford the horses? That's a trickier question. I have enough gold, but to spend my personal savings on business dealings is a poor habit to get into, a losing prospect. I have found that investing a little in minor things, rooms, meals, a few drinks, can pay dividends in keeping contacts happy. That said, the cost of these horses is far more than my payment earned for arranging this party. Dipping too far into my pocket makes no business sense."

To Emberlyn, he nods and says, "I appreciate your gesture, but that money is yours to be earned. If the situation does turn out to be nothing, any monies you do return will go well towards solidifying your reputation as a solid hire and adventurer of worth."

His attention returns to Garithak and Barases. "Here's what I can offer. As I have purchased these horses with my own money, they are mine. I will let you borrow my horses with the understanding that you will return them when you are finished using them. If any damages occur to my property, I will petition the town council for reimbursement. This may or may not affect any additional rewards you have coming."

He folds his hands in front of him. "If you agree to this, the horses should be arriving shortly out front, ready to ride. If this you feel this is unfair or simply unacceptable, my apologies, I meant no insult, but this is the best I could arrange with what means I have to work with. I will return them to the stableman and probably suffer nothing more than a smirk and a service charge. Either way, bless you on your journey."

[Felhammer]

A disgruntled look crosses Barases' face. Barases does not borrow horses, horses are free animals who are asked to serve for a higher cause. Horses are companions of mighty heroes, they are not property and they are not to be taken advantage of in this fashion. Shaking his head and gritting his teeth, the Satyr comments, "I will purchase a steed of my own. I fear your property may be harmed during the mission and I do not want that hanging over my head."

Barases then politely excuses himself and heads to the nearest Stable. He greets the owner kindly and offers a hundred gold for his "Best, most loving, most faithful, most stalwart steed."



Diplomacy Check to ingratiate himself to the Stablemaster and ensure a good deal.

I will use Words of Friendship to gain a +5 bonus.

Check: [roll]1d20+16[roll]

[Surrealistik]

Garithak nods, his semblance of a frown quickly disappearing, Donal's offer apparently having satisfied the genasi.

"Of course. It is only fair that you possess the animals. It is your expense, an' thus your property. Personally, I imagined you'd chosen to rent the beasts; I'd never intended to buy but to borrow. My apologies if there was any misunderstandin'."

Taking a final drag of his pipe, he taps out its ashen dregs upon a soiled tray, replacing it within the pouch from whence it came.

"Anyways, now that we're all settled, it's time to get movin' an' earn our keep."

Rising to his feet, the officer swiftly shakes Donal's hand.

"Pleasure doin' business, an' thanks for puttin' up with me; first time dealin' with your likes, so I meant to be cautious. You seem like a fair man, an' next time, things ought not to be so strained."

Hefting the remnants of his luggage by the chair, Garithak heads outside to await the horses. As ever, Brutus moves in close tow, the elemental clomping about with its usual thunder.

EDIT: Reposted so I could see Fel's post.

[Paperscrap]

"Very well then." Emberlyn would nod with a slight smile, feeling a little bit silly for trying to step in earlier when Donal was perfectly capable of diffusing the situation on his own. "I shall do so. Let us hope that it indeed does turn out to be nothing!"

With her piece spoken, she would move out to retrieve one of the remaining horses. Being fairly ignorant on the selection process that goes towards finding a fine steed she'd simply go for the last one available; a palomino in as much need of grooming as she was.

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Even though he said he did not want or need a horse, Malikar ended up selecting a large black horse, whose fur was almost the same color as his own. The large horse was dwarfed by the huge frame of the minotaur, but the strong mount seemed to bear his burden in stride.

[Felhammer]

Barases returns to the group with a medium-sized white steed. both of their eyes were full of joy! Any casual observer could notice the fact that Barases had never ridden a horse before - he swayed side to side, attempting to maintain balance while his posting was overblown and exaggerated. He trots his horse up, strokes her neck and waves, "Everyone, this is Mystery. I have named her such because her eyes remind me of the black opals mined by the Dwarves, which are as dark and mysterious as they are fascinating and beautiful. She and I are ready to begin our adventure."


I skipped a head a bit, so we could begin. I have subtracted 100 gold from my total wealth. Now Barases doesn't feel like he owes Donal anything if the worst should befall his steed.

[Ridai]

Seeing the horses arrive, Grai's gaze falls upon a young, proud, dark-brown specimen. "Lookie here..." The half-orc moves closer to the horse, where she inclines her head and her expression sours a little. "Naaaw, all that stuff jus' gonna take the fun outta this."

Nonchalantly, Grai begins to remove all the gear from the horse, dumping the whole bunch in the hands of one of the dumbfounded man who brought the horses there. "Ah, much bett'r!" With one swift motion, Grai is on the horse's back, patting it's side. "Real beauty, ain't'cha, boy?"

Looking over at Barases, the warrior erupts in hearty laughter, even wiping a tear from her eye. "Whatev'r ya say, whatev'r ya say." Guiding her horse next to Mystery, Grai corrects the pose of the steed's rider in a hands-on approach. "Keep yerself on top with yer knees and stay loose. Ain't gonna be Mystery's graceful rider with a stick up yer ass." After she's done, Grai rides past him to get back to Garithak's side, but not without slapping Mystery's behind to startle her just a little bit to put her lessons to the test.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak quickly picks out his steed, a rugged, powerfully built blue-roan stallion, well suited for the warrior's morass of heavy armaments and equipment. Reassuring the beast with a stroke of his hand, allowing it to become settled and accustomed to his scent, he hefts himself onto the saddle, taking a firm grip upon his horse's reins. Upon Grai striding alongside, he looks back over the group and swiftly assesses the team's readiness. Satisfied, he turns ahead, warily surveying the sunlit horizon.

"Right then, let's move out."

With a jarring press of booted heels, the soldier's mount surges forward, clomping noisily down the dirt road.

[Felhammer]

Barases nods towards Grai, "Stick up my... What? How do I...?" He looks around and watches Grai ride like a professional - so graceful and determined. Barases can do nothing save sit in awe. The Satyr decides to watch the Half-Orc and mimic his movements. Barases is a quick learner and manages to advance his skills from incompetent boob to simply terrible. With a broad smile, Barases calls out, "I think I'm getting the hang of this!"

[Felhammer]

Barases trots forward and forges the trail to adventure.

[Ridai]

Grai rejoices and sends her mount charging after Garithak. The wind in her face and hair, the sense of speed and the motions of her steed, riding towards another fight alongside her capt'n and a bunch of fine combat ready fellows. The fierce half-orc woman raptly enjoys it all, visible in her toothy grin and audible in her excited shouts as she spurs her mount on towards what used to be her home, before the Vale's roads, wayside camps, inns and every single dangerous spot became her new one.

I think everyone posted that they are ready to leave Fallcrest. Or are we waiting for someone?

[WaffleLord]

The horses fall into an easy trot with Brutus lumbering along beside Garithak. The unseasonably warm weather keeps the early morning pleasant. As you ride through the Moon Hills, you see small herd animals run alongside the road, keeping pace with you. Turning south from the Trade Road to follow the King's Road, you make good time along the relatively flat lands outside Fallcrest until the noontime sun in covered by the thick canopy of the Harken forest. Slowing your pace slightly, you near the halfway point, the stated location of the Bentwick camp stop.

Ahead at a bend in the road is a small clearing to the side of the road. It is a well-worn campsite with some well-structured fencing set against the adjacent forest. A smoldering fire smokes from neglect, sending thin wisps skyward. Along the entrance lies capsized and plundered wagons, spilling over with rotted vegetables: wilted, desiccated, unrecognizable leaves, splotched, moldy roots, and many bulbs of unusual size seem distended and bloated to the point of bursting. A single, still figure is crumpled in an ominously dark puddle

As you approach, it is obvious that a struggle has raged in the small clearing, churning the ground to mud. The downed man is wearing stained traveling clothing typical of a poor trader or other wanderer and suffered a series of deep claw marks along with a chunk out of his back.

Bentwick Encampment (https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/12XP1MIXaobSYAAJHWeleEO6yS2pw_48ytECuQvajGio/edit)

[Ridai]

A "Hm," is audible from Grai, quickly followed by her swiftly dismounting. She strokes her horse's side, neck and snout reassuringly. "Stay here, boy. Grai's gonna be right back," she says, fond of the strong animal, before grasping her gouge and sauntering over to the body, taking a closer look at it and the surroundings, casually kicking or squashing some of the vegetables on the way. Getting to know the things you're going to smash soon is always welcome to the half-orc. "Poor guy. Lemme see wha' happened to ya..."

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar dismounts and unstraps his spear from his back. He walks around the rdge of the encampment, looking for trouble. He pokes the tip of his spear into the bloated vegetables, grimacing with disgust.

"does he live?"

[Surrealistik]

Surveying the forboding scene, Garithak fishes out a tattered bandana from his pocket, its cloth stained a deep, mottled crimson between dyes and haphazard blood spatters that contrast against its brighter native red. Reverently donning the item like a war fetish, he sets the rag atop his head, tying off the end into a tight knot. Thereafter he dismounts and secures his roan against the wooden fence, fishing his spear from its back holster.

"Stay alert. The place looks abandoned but I'm not takin' chances."

Taking a moment to look about, he carefully approaches the man to examine him, weapon at the ready, its point sweeping from side to side with a trained, even rhythm.

Perception, Garry: [roll0]
Perception, Brutus (Darkvision): [roll1]

Heal check (Examine corpse): [roll2]

[Paperscrap]

The clopping of her horse's feet against the ground had done quite a bit to distract Emberlyn from the mortal danger that they rode into, the constant bobbing up and down and the lack of sleep from the night before each contributing in their own ways towards jostling her brain into a sedentary state. All of that changed, however, with the spotting of the camp. "Hmm..." She hummed while guiding her horse into the clearing. "Oh, my. It almost looks as though a month has gone by." The source of her comment was not focused on the dead body before them, but rather the rotting vegetables her eyes were instinctively drawn towards; some small part of her appalled at so much wasted food.

[Felhammer]

Barases and Mystery trot up, following their companions. As they near, Barases dismounts, pets Mystery's snout and tells her, "I'll be back soon. Don't get into any trouble while I'm over yonder." The Satyr meaders up with a quizical look. He stops in his tracks as the carnage comes into full view. "These poor souls. What could have done this? Do they have any for of identification, so we know where they are from and can thus send word to their loved ones?"

[WaffleLord]

Garithak
The human body has been dead for less than a day. Judging by his attire, he was a trader, perhaps trying to capitalize on the lack of trade between Harken and Fallcrest. You see no obvious weapon damage, clean slashes or cuts. Instead, it looks as if he was violently ripped apart, ragged tears along his arms and torso, and a large piece taken out of his shredded back.

There are many footprints in the area, all made by bare humanoid feet. Brutus sniffs through the mud, following the tracks. You can see that he follows the marks from the attackers towards the forest in many different directions. He raises his head and growls as you notice motions in the shadows of the trees.

[Surrealistik]

As he completes his examination of the body, a deep frown scores Garithak's features, his worry notable, blatant.

"No... not a month that's gone by. Least far as this poor fellow is concerned; died less than a day ago, n' this is his stock, or stuff he's happened upon. The man has the semblance of a trader; no doubt lookin' to take advantage of the discontinued goods from Harken, poor bastard."

The officer shakes his head, the gravitas of his discomfort only growing with time.

"Looks like he was mauled by a beast of some kind, but the tracks here are humanoid to the last. Whatever did this guy in, it looks like there were several of em. Far as I can tell they've scattered, as though startled off; seems they retreated into the forest when they heard us comin'. Somethin's _very_ wrong 'bout this whole thing."

Just then Brutus growls, the elemental's eyes intent upon the trees surrounding the party, his rocky heft tracking after something within the shadow of the forest.

Without saying a word, Garithak stands, drawing back from the savaged corpse, spear point set against the forest. Silently, he motions at Emberlyn to move away from the foliage to safety behind the caravans. To Grai and Brutus, he signs to draw back in front of him. With the group suitably positioned, the captain calls out his challenge, head panning across the expanse of trees in time with his weapon:

"Whoever you are, we know you're there. Show yourselves murderers, or flee while you still can!"

[Ridai]

Squatting next to the corpse, Grai looks up to Garithak, shrugging. "Undead fellas?" It's been a while since her last bout with the walking dead, but decay was usually near them.

When Garithak gives his silent orders, Grai swiftly moves into position, seemingly leisurely waiting for something to happen, her gaze sweeping across the treeline. "I wanna see 'em try runn'n' with me behind 'em," she mumbles. Despite her stance, observant onlookers see her powerful legs tensing, ready to pounce, just as her muscular arms are only waiting to smash skulls.

Grai is currently in the Berserker's Charge stance.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak nods in response to the query.

"That's what I'm thinkin'. Not much else acts like a beast n' walks like a man. Not zeds either; they wouldn't care about us comin', an' clawin's not their style."

[Paperscrap]

"That's just terrible, the damage they've done! Do you really imagine the undead would be responsible for this? What would have caused them to station themselves at this camp, of all places? Certainly, the camp's ability to serve as a constant food source from travelers would not seem a logical reason - they appear to have not eaten very much for a pack, and leaving the corpse and camp in full disarray would defeat the point. It strikes me as though it may be a warning rather than the action of mindless creatures. Though I may be wrong, there's a certain order in this chaos." When in an excited or panicked state, Emberlyn's words came so fast that they were almost difficult to decipher from one another.

((Edit: V Nah, I was thinking the character would rattle on about it while anxiously looking to the forest. Kind of the way a scared kid might rationalize the non existence of ghosts. It's a bit easier to fight bandits or territorial beasts than undead I'd think ))

[Surrealistik]

Garithak's shoulders crest in a shrug as he looks between the corpse and the dashed caravan.

"Well they're not mindless, that's for damn sure; had sense enough to scatter when we came about after all, an' that's why this one here has been left. Agree it seems slim pickin's for a pack, but this is the only victim we can see. Might be more that they've dragged off into the woods."

((I'm assuming this convo takes place before Brutus growls at the things in the forest))

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar looks through the clues at the campsite, trying to puzzle out what exactly happened. He says very little, but carefully examines the body with the others, as well as looking for anything curious.


Insight to try to piece together what's going on. [roll0]
Perception to find clues [roll1]

[Ridai]

"Oh, let 'em be ones kill'n' to kill. Noth'n's better than gutt'n' monst'rs 'n' psychos." A wolfish grin spreads across Grai's face, baring her teeth.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak nods, eyes covertly scanning the foliage.

"Much as I appreciate the enthusiasm, we'd best finish gettin' prepped before they see fit to attack."

His silent direction having gone unheeded, he again motions at the blathering Cindersoul, his body language, the thrust of his arm towards the rear of the toppled carts obviously meant to instruct her position.

"Emberlyn, you get away from that treeline."

The order was stern, weighted with grave seriousness that even now marred the genasi's visage.

[Paperscrap]

Ember's eyes would widen as she suddenly went quiet, nodding once before glancing about and following the direction given.

[Surrealistik]

Satisfied with the pyromancer's response, Garithak swiftly produces a banner, plunging it into the ground.

"Stick close to that if you can; it's enchanted to heal all those nearby. Saved me and my companymen on more than a few occasions."

[WaffleLord]

Malikar
The second wagon the has been rifled through carries no vegetables or other crops but tools and repair items. It seems this fellow was a trader, perhaps trying to take advantage of the lack of trade with Harken. As he has been here more than an hour or two, it does not seem as if using him for food was the goal of the attackers. Emberlyn has a point. Undead would have ravaged the body. Close, but this is something else.

To the northeast, a figure steps slowly out from behind a tree trunk. In the shade of the tree, you see a tattered clothed elf, cradling something in its arms. Dirty and emaciated, the female is shuddering with sobs as she steps hesitantly towards you. "My baby.....my baby.." she mutters between sobs. As she reaches the sunlight, she suddenly screams as if wounded and throws her arms into the air. Unraveling from the swaddle of rags flying through the air you see a human spine, spinning slowly, landing with a thump on the loam. Other screams join her from the surrounding trees. Figures jump down from hidden roosts while others rise from ground covers. The screaming only gets louder as the filthy, wild ones close to attack!

Roll initiative!

[Ridai]

Grai is momentarily confused by the elven maiden and the bundle, but as soon as the shouts begin, the half-orc's favorite side is already there to greet them, the warrior emitting a guttural, bestial scream as she, for the lack of a better word, pounces onto the one thing out in the open with frightening speed. She kicks up glimmering ashes from the campfire that accompany the last of her heavy footsteps before she launches herself into the air to bring down her oversized gouge onto the thing with a huge overhead strike, as if she wanted to cleave apart the ground beneath her target.

Standard Charge N5, moving to M6. If Grai hits, she activates Power Strike and Furious Assault as No/Free actions.
[roll0] vs. AC (includes charge bonus and Berserker's Charge)
Hit: [roll1] (Brutal 1) + [roll2] + [roll3] + 15 damage
Brutal weapon dice rerolls (if necessary. Picked from left to right): [roll4]

Total damage: 39 (wow, abysmal rolls :smallannoyed:)

[WaffleLord]

Emberlyn
By all appearances, they are filthy, soiled people: elves and humans. But there’s something…wrong…about them. They move almost normally, but with a fevered passion. When they run, it’s at full speed. When they are still, they are as statues. They have a feral, hunting look to them, with barely contained mania. Judging by their blood streaked faces and ragged nails, they have been out in the wild for a while, forging for whatever they can catch be it animal or people.(AC 19, FORT 19, REF 18, WILL 17, claw attacks, grab, jump attack)

They seem ghoulish, but they definitely alive. They do not have the taint of the undead to them.(immune to poison, not vulnerable to radiant)

There is no enscrollment here, no currently active spells controlling them. The stench of chaos is on them. This much chaos on any normal mortal would drive them to a frenzied level of madness.(feed on grabbed characters)


Garithak
By all appearances, they are filthy, soiled people: elves and humans. But there’s something…wrong…about them.(claw attacks, grab)

They seem ghoulish, but they definitely alive.(immune to poison)

There is no enscrollment here, no currently active spells controlling them. The stench of chaos is on them. This much chaos on any normal mortal would drive them to a frenzied level of madness.(feed on grabbed characters)

Barases
Nature
By all appearances, they are filthy, soiled people: elves and humans. But there’s something…wrong…about them. They move almost normally, but with a fevered passion. When they run, it’s at full speed. When they are still, they are as statues. They have a feral, hunting look to them, with barely contained mania.(AC 19, WILL 17, claw attacks, grab)

They seem ghoulish, but they definitely alive. They do not have the taint of the undead to them.(immune to poison, not vulnerable to radiant)


There is no enscrollment here, no currently active spells controlling them. The stench of chaos is on them. This much chaos on any normal mortal would drive them to a frenzied level of madness.(feed on grabbed characters)

The Harkenwold is not known for lycanthropes or undead attacks, but there was a time when stories of demonic incursions were in fashion. Tales of battle with demons who would possess people and use them as puppets were told to great reception for nearly a decade until they fell from the public favor.(they have a touch of demonic chaos to them)

[WaffleLord]

The half-orc charges in a cloud of ashen dust and strikes with such force, the disheveled elf chest nearly opened from shoulder to hip. Rich, red blood flows forth, wetting her rags and dripping to the muddy ground.

From close up, Grai can see that much of the filth upon the wild woman is animal waste, mixed with mud. Small bones, possible fingers, are woven haphazardly into her hair. Cuts and previous wounds have been left untended, festering and oozing over much of her exposed flesh.

The elf continues screaming with wild abandon as she flails wildly at Grai, trying to draw her into her sanguine embrace. The wildly scratching claws fall harmlessly on the half-orc's armor, leaving bloody streaks in irregular patterns.
Standard
Claw attack vs Grai AC (20) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]
MISS

The other wildings come screaming in from different areas of the forest, leaping over the fences, hooting and growling with reckless abandon.

Another wilding drops from the trees and charges at Grai, his mad frenzy goading him on. The second wild woman, a human with long, matted red hair, grabs the engaged Grai, digging her filthy claws deep into her shoulder.
Move to M5
Standard
If Grai is grabbed,
Feed vs Grai AC (20) - [roll2]
Damage - [roll3]
else
Claw attack vs Grai AC (20) - [roll4]
Damage - [roll5] damage
GRABBED - Escape DC 16


From the west a human male dressed in farmer's breeches vaults easily over the fence and charges the minotaur. He tackles the minotaur with a bear's hug embrace, squeezing with abnormal strength, growling with great ferocity.
Move to M11
Standard
Claw attack vs Malikar AC (23) - [roll6]
Damage - [roll7]
Critical Damage - 17
GRABBED - Escape DC 16

The two male elves from the north move towards Garithak and his companion. After a few running steps, they leap through the air simultaneously with superhuman strength, landing on Garithak and Brutus. The twin elves land upon their targets, knocking them to the ground, pining them with their ragged claws drawing blood from the necks of their victims.
Move to H5
Standard
Bounding Leap Charge to J8 vs Brutus AC (18) - [roll8]
Damage - [roll9] damage
PRONE
GRABBED - Escape DC 16

Move to F6
Standard
Bounding Leap Charge to H9 vs Garithak AC (19) - [roll10]
Damage - [roll11] damage
PRONE
GRABBED - Escape DC 16

[Surrealistik]

Though his weapon is readied against the pending onslaught, Garithak is surprised by the sheer alacrity of the crazed elf's pounce, bowled over alongside his companion as claws slice viciously at his neck. Wrestling with the disheveled foe, he frantically barks out orders, the genasi's words suffused with urgent authority.

"Barases, circle round, get a blade in this bastard's spine! Ember, lay some cover fire on my mark!"

[WaffleLord]

Garithak
In your experience, wild, crazed attackers generally swarm the nearest targets, rarely stopping until either they or their targets are dead.(attack nearest foe until death)

I use History as a knowledge check of an area of specialty. History of lore for bard, history of battle tactics for warlord. I think it helps personalize the class's skills.

[Ridai]

Splattered in the elf's blood, the tall half-orc laughs as she fends off both crazed women. "Ha, the ladies sure put up a fight." Grai grunts lightly as the human digs her fingers into the warrior's shoulder. "Oh, I'm lik'n' the redhead already."

Seeing Garithak and Brutus pinned down, Grai shifts her priorities from playing with her new friends, using her mass and strength to yank the human around while stepping away from the bloodied elven maiden, followed by Grai pulling her head back and freeing herself from the crazed grip with a resounding headbutt, sending the redhead stumbling back. Flashing a grin, Grai grips her gouge with both hands.

"Big sis' comin', Brutus!" Momentarily drawing the attention of the elf who pounced onto the earth elemental, Grai comes in low, closing the distance while twirling around and kicking glowing ashes into his face. With a guttural shout of exertion, the half-orc swings her weapon upwards, aiming straight under his ribcage, putting all her strength, speed and mass behind it.

Move Break the grab successfully (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=12889266&postcount=105), shift to J7

Standard Charge J8, moving to J7. Grai activates Power Strike on hit.
[roll0] vs. AC (includes charge bonus, Berserker's Charge and CA from flanking)
Hit: [roll1] (Brutal 1) + [roll2] + [roll3] + 15 damage
Brutal rerolls (taken from left to right): [roll4]

Total damage: 49

[Felhammer]

Barases sees the obtuse elf wailing and feels pity. She's lost so much... Suddenly, the group is assaulted by unnamed and hostile enemies. Well Barases, old boy, looks like its time to be a hero!

Barases jumps into action, drawing his steel scimitar as runs over to one of the enemies. To inspire his allies, he begins to sing a song:


It's of a fearless highwayman
A story I will tell
His name was William Brennan
And in Nentir Vale he did dwell,
And upon the Stonearch mountains
He commenced his wild career,
Where many a wealthy gentleman
Before him shook with fear.


As he sings the last word in the verse, he takes his scimitar, holds it high in the air and brings it down against the back of his enemy.


MINOR: Activate my Skald's Aura

MOVE: Move To G8, around and away from all enemies to G8.

STANDARD: Attack the enemy in H9.

Melee Basic: [roll0] EDIT: Forgot to add the +2 for flanking. Probably doesn't ht though.
Damage: [roll1]

Unfortunately, I cannot activate my two at wills that make my Melee Basic attacks awesome because they require a Minor Action :( Next Turn though!

[WaffleLord]

Immediate Interrupt - Harass vs Grai AC(20) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

As Grai tears herself from the wilding it tries to dig its claws in deeper to prevent her from escaping, but the headbutt momentarily disorients the fiend, releasing Grai cleanly.

[Surrealistik]

As Barases distracts the slavering elf with his song and stab, Garithak seizes the opportunity to thrust the manic creature off him, hefting the shaft of his greatspear forward as he procures enough space to regain his footing. Gritting his teeth, the genasi draws back his weapon only to immediately surge forward, plunging its serrated head into the foe with a guttural warcry, tip ramming through its torso to surface out the other end.

"Scorch em Ember, light em up!"

Bellows the warrior as he tears out his spear, a combat boot pressed against the wild creature to provide necessary leverage, ripping out further chunks of flesh.

Brutus acts likewise, rumbling violently with displeasure as it is clawed, talons scoring deep gouges before it pushes the other elf off, managing to lumber back onto its stony feet with a din of ground-shaking thuds.

Move: Brutus stands. Garithak stands.

Standard: Warlord's Favour
Attack: [roll0] vs AC (+2 with flanking CA)
Damage: [roll1]
Hit Effect: Emberlyn gains a +6 power bonus to attack rolls UENT (Ga-2).

Minor: Adaptive Stratagem
Effect: Emberlyn gains a +5 power bonus to damage rolls UENT (Ga-2).

[Paperscrap]

No sooner had the captain finished his sentence had a large column of flame crashed down immediately adjacent to him; the licking heat nearly scalding his face. Held like a gigantic flaming claymore, the weapon would explode on impact with (or upon missing) the elf, sending small embers and motes cascading to the ground in a fantastic display. These embers seemed to catch as if led by lighter fluid - rapidly burning a trail along the grass until they reached their intended targets. If they should find a foot, the small spark would erupt into a roaring and ever consuming fire, much to the wild eyed Emberlyn's apparent glee.

"Heh... haha..."

Combat Manuevers:
*Moving to K-8
*Casting Flame Shroud. Attack versus Fortitude
|_>[roll0] on dark blue -> 31 fire damage, 5 ongoing
[roll1] on red -> 25 fire damage, 5 ongoing
[roll2] on green -> 25 fire damage, 5 ongoing
[roll3] on yellow -> 25 fire damage, 5 ongoing
[roll4] on teal -> 25 fire damage, 5 ongoing
Deals [roll5] (non resistible) fire damage, + 5 ongoing to all targets hit.
*Minor Action: On the event the attack against Blue hits, I'll be using Hellfire Heart. This attack deals 6 additional non resistible to the target and imposes a -2 penalty to him attacking me.

* OUT OF TURN ACTIONS:
* If hit by an enemy with an attack roll equal to my AC or reflex +3 or less, I'll use Shield to grant myself +4 to AC or Reflex.
* If hit by an attack with greater than 1 damage dice, I'll use Cinderdeath to cause all dice to roll automatic ones.

EDIT NOTE: I screwed up on the red roll and added 6 to it thinking it was my damage roll for some reason! It should be six lower than that, but I'm pretty sure that's still going to hit anyways
EDIT2: Switched hellfire heart from the red guy to the blue one since Ridai's got him taken care of. Lemme know if thats not okay!

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar tries to wrench himself free, using his massive strength to do so. Once free, he spins and jabs with his spear, each motion fluid and graceful, truly a dance. He slashes at his opponent, bringing the tip of his spear from a jab at the foot, through a cut up to the throat. Forcing the foe back with the haft, he hurls the spear into the melee, it magically reappearing in his hand.

"These foes dance poorly."

Move: breaking free [roll0]
Standard: Cleave on green[roll1] [roll2]
and RBA from Cleave + Deft Hurler red[roll3] [roll4]

Free: Mark all foes I attack, whether I hit or miss

[WaffleLord]

Immediate Interrupt - Harass vs Malikar AC (23) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

As Malikar tries to extricate himself from the grasp of the creature, its filthy claws dig deeper into his body.

[WaffleLord]

Chaos reigns as flaming wildings flail around the clearing, screaming in agony. Horses nearest the flames neigh loudly and try to pull away from their hitches in fear, while the other horses begin to look a little spooked.

Green Feeds vs Malikar AC (23) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]
MISS

Blue Feeds vs Garithak AC (19) - [roll2]
Damage - [roll3]
HIT
Dazed(save ends)

Yellow Pounce (L7)vs Emberlyn AC (?) - [roll4]
Damage - [roll5] (Damage only 7 by Cinderdeath)
HIT
PRONE
GRABBED

Blue Roan save vs spook - [roll6]
Brown save vs spook - [roll7]

The crazed farmer holding Malikar tries to fest upon the neck of the minotaur, but eats nothing but the haft of an interposed spear.

Garithak feels the sizzling pain of a flaming elf as the torched body rolls over his feet, charing to a crisp under his nose.

The wild redhead leaps with supernatural strength at Emberlyn. The genasi raises her hands in gesture of a shield, but too soon the wilding is upon her, tearing wildly at her and knocking her to the ground. A quick thought and fire glistens where the wilding tries to touch the pyromancer, easing the attack.

The blue roan horse still nickering wildly manages to hold itself in check, while the brown horse goes wild, pulling at its tether, its eyes open wide in terror.
The brown horse is spooked and will bolt unless a Nature DC 14 can calm the horse.

[Ridai]

Grai, splattered with even more blood by now, watches the crazies burn to cinders, watching the grand display of flames with delight and showing Emberlyn a wide smile like an elder sister who is proud of her younger sibling. Until the redhead pounces on the latter.

While Emberlyn is struggling on the ground against the burning woman, Grai steps behind them, her face visible to Emberlyn. And, seemingly very uncharacteristically for her, her expression is one of blistering, unrestrained anger. Garithak knows this happens relatively rarely, most often when she feels responsible for someone's safety. "Get your hands off my girl, you *****!" Her voice is free of the usual slurring as she shouts, swinging her axe-like weapon in a wide, brutal arc, aimed at the redhead's side to slam her off the genasi. If she succeeds, Grai rolls the body over with her foot and places it firmly on the stomach, following up with a huge overhead smash directed at the head to finish her off.

Move to M6

Standard Attack Yellow
[roll0] vs. AC (includes CA from flanking)
Hit: [roll1] + 13 damage
Brutal rerolls: [roll2]
Total damage: 22

Minor Sohei Flurry vs. Yellow
[roll3] vs. AC (includes CA from flanking)
Hit: [roll4] + 9 damage
Brutal rerolls: [roll5]
Total damage: 18

Grai's strikes connect, splattering blood everywhere in copious amounts with her brutal display. "Ya okay, Ember?" Judging by her voice, her momentary anger has diffused as quickly as it flared up, speaking volumes in itself.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak can't help but foster a broad grin as two of the wildfolk are reduced to burnt husks and cinder in the wake of Ember's outburst, freeing him and Brutus alike from their painful grip.

"Not bad. After that, gotta say, you're probably the last person I'd pick a fight with."

Quickly getting back to the killing, he whips around to regard the last foe grappling with Malikar. Inclining his head towards the fiend, Brutus takes its cue, heading into a flank as Garithak moves to the minotaur's rear, the distracting motion of his weapon providing an opening for the struggling warrior.

"Finish it Mal."

Move Action: Brutus moves to N11. Garithak moves to K11.

Standard Action: Garithak uses Commander's Strike on Green Thing. Mal makes an MBA with flanking, a +1 item bonus to the attack roll, a +5 bonus to the damage roll, and +2 power bonus to the damage roll:

Attack: [roll0] vs Green AC. (Critical hit!)
Damage: [roll1] 26 including crit damage (see OOC)

(Hope Mal chooses to knock out the creature; it'd be nice if Emberlyn could study it for info).

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar glares at the wild thing that is biting into the haft of his spear. Bellowing a growl he throws the beast bodily to the ground twisting his weapon free in the process. Twirling the spear, he brings the haft down hard on the beast's temple, trying to knock it out.

Malikar's fur is damp with sweat and blood from the brief exertion. He wipes the blood from his spear on the downed wildling's tattered clothing.

"These beasts are crude and crazed. What would drive someone to do this? Attacking with claws and teeth when they could easily find weapons. It is....curious."

[Ridai]

Grai easily pulls Emberlyn back onto her feet. Seeing the fight is over, she looks down onto what is left of the redhead, sighing and grimassing briefly. "Loved the fight, but I hope she ain't got no fam'ly t'see 're like this." The half-orc goes over to Garithak, wiping her mouth and spitting out some blood, but not even bothering cleaning herself otherwise. Maybe Barases will take care of the horsies.

"Someone made 'em crazy 'n' I'm call'n' dibs on the guy. Gonna make it slow 'n' painful." Grai's eyes narrow briefly, a low growl accompanying her voice. She might enjoy every good fight regardless of the circumstances, but she's also remarkably good at differentiating between combat and the rest of life. And despite her earlier enjoyment, someone, somewhere, has been marked for death.

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

Malikar growls and snorts at Grai, lifting his speartip towards her. "I would rather the wild thing die than be tortured. No matter the information it could give up. A swift death is preferable. I am the one it injured, and its fate is mine." He shifts slightly, his towering form standing over the prone enemy, protecting it from his allies. "I will consent to threats, however, but not actual torture. Am I understood?"

[Felhammer]

Barases dusts himself off and proclaims, "That was fun. Who are these people and why are they so crazed? I wonder if this has anything to do with our quest. So many questions, so few answers. I propose we take a short rest - battles are hard on the body - best we rest now and continue on our way in a bit."

Having said that, Barases pulls out his lute and strums a soft, melodious tune that soothes the soul and harkens back memories of child-like wonderment and adventure.

[Ridai]

"What's yer problem, Mally? Ain't talk'n' 'bout that one. Talk'n' 'bout whatev'r made all o' 'em crazy. Smashed enough psychos to tell these fellas ain't naturals." Grai places a hand on her hip, the other hand holding her gouge, not impressed by the minotaur's stature at all.

[Paperscrap]

Rising to her feet with Grai's assistance, Emberlyn looked somewhat dazed. To be fair, though, given the circumstances it was likely entirely understandable. "Owch..." she'd comment, bringing a hand up to her ground battered head. "Thank you Grai. I thought she was about to go for my neck." Though the pained expression hadn't left her face, for a moment it seemed to be replaced by a small smile that broadcasted the sincerity of her thanks.

For a moment, at least.

The panicked neighing of the horses behind her caused her to whip around in a tizzy. "Oh no... the horses!" Though the mage had little formal training or riding experience with the beasts, she'd read many a riding book in her youth while wishing for one of her own. It was that knowledge she called on as she slowly approached the poor spooked thing, ignoring the still flaming corpses of their ambushers. "There, there. It's alright. There's nothing to be worried about." She'd coo, trying to keep her voice soothing in order to calm the creature; her feet pushing her forward in a slow and nonthreatening motion. "It's all over now."

Nature Check:
[roll0]

[tigerusthegreat]

Malikar

The bull lowers his spear, but remains tense. "Noone deserves torture, no matter the evil they have done. Not this one, nor the one who made him and his companions crazed. If you do so, you are just as bad as they are. I will not be called a mad beast again because of your thirst for revenge. I agree it is a pity, but a clean death ends the threat as well as prolonged torture, without becoming the evil we are interested in stopping."

Malikar walked away from his allies, checking the saddle of his black horse, speaking soothing wordsw to the beast.

[Ridai]

Grai's face shows her confusion as Malikar mentions 'evil', finding that way to categorize things way too silly after having been in the war. Eventually, she shrugs regardless. "Have it yer way, as long as the 'evil' guy in charge gets smashed." There's little difference in both courses of action to her, the end result is the same, after all.

Looking over to Emberlyn, Grai can't help but voice her thoughts at normal volume. "Damn. Someone's gonna have serious competition if the girl gets any more adorable." After a teasing grin towards Garithak, Grai moves to make sure the corpses burn to ashes properly to avoid leaving them rotting under the sun, not minding the stench of the process.

With that done, she sits down, relaxes a bit and finally cleans herself and her weapon, listens to Barases' song and spends some quality time with her favorite earth elemental, feeding Brutus some tasty looking rocks.

Grai spends a surge.

[Surrealistik]

Though busied tending to his wounds, Garithak looks poised to intervene between the two feuding warriors, pausing as his head turns to gauge their dispute, stony eyes taking careful measure of their enmity and tension. Fortunately, the need seems to pass as the half-orc and minotaur appear to reconcile, and he again resumes bandaging himself. Upon Barases chiming in with a tune, he reciprocates with a nod of appreciation, relaxing as best he can whilst applying herbal poultices and disinfectant.

When finished, he shakes his head at Grai's comment, a bellowing chuckle further punctuating his response.

"Settin' yourself up for disappointment there Grai. Gal doesn't seem the type if you know what I mean, speakin' of which."

Looking to Emberlyn, he gestures the fellow genasi over with a broad sweep of his muscled arm.

"When you're done calmin' those horses, come take a look at the survivor. Seems like magic er somethin' might be responsible for their madness; right up your alley as I recall."

[Ridai]

Grai dismissively exhales through pressed lips. "Aaaaah, yer jus' jealous, Cap'n," Lovingly punching Garithak's arm, the half-orc laughs and lobs up a particularly yummy rock for Brutus to munch from behind her back.

Applying the changes to Grai's sheet, as well as switching to Auspicious Birth for her background. Because free Toughness+ is nice.

[WaffleLord]

Emberlyn's calming tone, words, and touch put the frightened horse at ease. It ceases stomping on the ground and throws its head twice. A sluggish nicker tells the mage that she's done her job.

The same cannot be said of the soul laid flat by Malikar's spear. Though unconscious, his body twitches, as if wracked with unpleasant dreams.

[Felhammer]

Barases ponders the fate of the twitching man, "Should we take him back to town for arrest and trial or should we interrogate him first?"

[Paperscrap]

"Much better. See, that wasn't so scary, was it?" It was with an exaggerated and thankful sigh that Emberlyn stopped rubbing the brown horses muzzle, apparently satisfied that the creature wouldn't bolt off. Perhaps thankfully on her part, she hadn't overheard Grai's embarrassing remark in the panic of tending to the horse - although the captain's loud voice was a little bit difficult to miss.

"Oh, right. Certainly. I've a slight hunch already, although perhaps further examination will bring up more clues. I think it seems obvious to all present - as Grai stated earlier - that it doesn't seem likely that their behavior is natural. There are any number of ways that might drive one to madness. Torture, possession, suggestion, magic, parasitic entities, poisons... well, I suppose it would be best to simply look first before I speak on the subject any more. As for your question, Barases, I'm honestly not very sure. An interrogation likely won't yield any useful information if he's to remain in that feral state. Similarly, I'm not entirely sure if we could really afford to take him with us. With any luck, perhaps his struggles are a sign of his consciousness fighting back against whatever controls him so."

Some more rolls:

History: [roll0]
Arcana: [roll1]
Religion: [roll2]
Nature: [roll3]

[WaffleLord]

Emberlyn
There are no enchantments here, no currently active spells controlling them. The stench of chaos is on them. This much chaos on any normal mortal would drive them to a frenzied level of madness. You seem to recall an incident near Winterhaveen of madness affecting a group of people. A group of young adults had tried to concoct their own brew, using fennel, anise, and witchhazel in place of barley. While the malady was also non-magical, their madness was more hallucinogenic then murderous.

[Paperscrap]

"Hmm..." the mage would think out loud after hunching over the dropped man, her fingers searching for any threads of magical enchantments that may still linger on his frame. After a minute of searching, however, it seemed to be conclusive that such a cause was in fact not the case. "I'm really not sure. It doesn't seem as though there's any magic that was at play here, although something surely did happen. For the time being, I think we may only be able to speculate on what that may be; and what motives serve as the cause."

[Felhammer]

Barases frowns, "What shall we do now?"

[Surrealistik]

Garithak frowns as Ember's observation proves completely inconclusive, the genasi's disappointment evident upon his rankled features.

"Well least you tried."

He says, attempting to reassure her.

"Suppose it may be some kind of strange disease. If it is, can't say I'm especially familiar with whatever would've caused this; I'm no physician, an' my knowledge of combat medicine only goes so far. Suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a look though."

The officer kneels beside the man, spreading his eye lids, setting fingers against his pulse, checking vitals, committing as best he can to the habituated rote of a detailed medical examination.

Heal Check (Aid Anothers welcome):
Heal: [roll0]

[Felhammer]

Barases ponders this... What ever it is and tries to recall if he's ever read about such occurrences before.

The satyr is roused from his thoughts by Garithak's desire for a more in depth study.


Arcana: [roll0]
History: [roll1]
Nature: [roll2]
Religion: [roll3]

Aid another: DC = 10 + 1/2 Garithak's level = DC 12. Success, Gari gets +2 to his roll, failure, means he gets a -1.

Heal Check: [roll4]

[Ridai]

"Even if it ain't magic, it still's somethin' nature ain't came up with," Grai states, walking over to the survivor. "If ya can, Capt'n, lemme put the poor guy outta 'is mis'ry 'fore he wakes up." For someone as crude and brutal as Grai, the woman seems oddly compassionate as she says this. Gods know that she was the one who usually granted her wounded comrades' wishes to die before the orcs get them, in those dire cases where retreat and leaving men behind was the only option, or if they couldn't take the pain of their wounds, missing limbs or lost families anymore.

Someone had to do it and Grai became good at it. And for better or worse, it shows.

[WaffleLord]

Barases
There are no enchantments here, no currently active spells controlling them. The stench of chaos is on them. This much chaos on any normal mortal would drive them to a frenzied level of madness. You seem to remember a tale of an incident near Winterhaven of madness affecting a group of people. A group of young adults had tried to concoct their own brew, using fennel, anise, and witchhazel in place of barley. While the malady was also non-magical, their madness was more hallucinogenic then murderous.

You feel certain that the gods have had no hand in this.

Garithak
You see many cuts and wounds, but apart from the fresh ones caused by your recent engagement, they appear self inflicted. It could be a toxin of some sort but you see no telltale festering wound or point of origin until Barases points out a slight swelling and bruising on the lower abdomen. With no surface abrasion to denote combat contact, this seems to indicate an ingestive poison.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak lips turn further downward, facial muscles tensed with concentration as he goes about his meticulous work, Barasus greatly assisting in the process, satyr's eyes appearing to make several observations the genasi did not. At last he stands, nodding, the tension of his focus beginning to clear.

"Hmm. Really an educated guess at this point, but I'm thinkin' some kind of poison or distillation did this; impossible to tell for sure. Even if we knew that was the case though, nothin' we can do far as a cure or antidote is concerned; not one thing we'd know about it except these effects."

He looks empathetically to the fallen, twitching man, his face a mask of pity.

"It may be that the effects of this 'toxin' are temporary, but given the apparent duration of Harkenwold's problems, it seems unlikely, and we certainly can't take the chance that this man'll get better before harmin' somebody else. In the meanwhile, let's see if we can salvage anythin' of use here; we might even find some more clues to what's happened."

The officer then turns to Grai, nodding his grave assent as he moves to patch up his comrades to the best of his ability. Once their wounds are tended to, Garithak then opts to comb the grounds.

Perception, Garithak (Search area): [roll0]
Perception, Brutus (Search area): [roll1]

Inspiring Word #1: [roll2]
Inspiring Word #2: [roll3]
Effect: Everyone regains +2 HP for each surge spent.

[Ridai]

Grai responds with a nod, knowing how frustrating it is for Garithak to be in the dark in a matter like this. She kneels beside the unconscious man, gently petting his head. "Shh." Her gaze briefly turns towards Emberlyn and Barases. "Ya might wanna turn 'round 'n' cov'r yer ears, sweethearts." Her voice is calm and even, despite her choice of words.

Giving them a moment to comply or not, Grai turns back to the man before her. Placing a hand on his chest and forehead, she leans down, quietly saying "Be at peace." With a sudden motion, her hands grab his head and break his neck in a heartbeat with a sickening crunch, knowing that even if he had been awake, he would have felt little pain. After closing his eyes, Grai cradles the body in her arms and brings it over to the burning pile where the others are, adding him to the bunch as well as adding to the stench.

The wound in Grai's shoulder barely needs attention with Garithak having his way of getting his subjects back on their feet with only a few words and maybe some bandages. "Ready t'go, Capt'n," she reports for duty.

[Felhammer]

Barases hums the tune to a funeral dirge as the man is sent to a better place. He sheds a tear for the dearly departed.

[Paperscrap]

"I'm sorry. I wish I knew more." Emberlyn would respond with a despondent tone, knowing full well that her lack of information could be leading to the early death of a likely undeserving man. Even still, given the circumstances, she imagined it very likely that he may have preferred death anyways than to be struck with the reality of what he'd become.

"I do feel as though a toxin or some sort of drug may be at the root of this, though, as you say. Barring magic, it's really the only thing that comes to mind at the moment. I do ever so hate jumping to conclusions, but perhaps it's something to keep in mind. As for the permanence... it's my experience that any drug that would put someone into this sort of state for such a long period of time are typically irreversible. If that's truly what we're dealing with, the road to recovery would be very long and likely futile. The stress from his recent standards of living alone would likely catch up to the poor man before much progress could be done." Following her statement, there was a long pause before she'd look towards both Gari and Grai, knowing the decision they were about to make. "I... don't disagree with the notion to put him out of his misery."

Even still, she'd prefer not to look; thanking Grai with a nod for doing the grim task before turning her head and quietly helping to survey the site.

Perception roll: [roll0]

[WaffleLord]

The chaos of the past minutes seems hard to believe. Serene and calm, the natural world shows little sign of being affected by the madness: birds flitter by singing, horses chomps on nearby grasses and overturned vegetables, spilled blood darkens and dries under the afternoon sun.

Emberlyn
While the nearest horses are enjoying the wilted leaves, they avoid the bloated bulbs. Nothing else catches your eye as unusual.

[Felhammer]

Barases walks over to his horse and readies it for travel, "I think we best move on. If this incident is connected with the job we were hired to do, then I am sure we'll find out more where we're headed."

[Felhammer]

Barases hops aboard his beautiful ivory steed and says, "We best be hitting the dusty trail."

[Paperscrap]

"That's probably for the best." Emberlyn would sigh with a hint of defeat, having found nothing of extreme importance - and having honestly expected as much. "This has been quite a start, I must say. Perhaps some further investigation along the trade path will help to illuminate things some. To be perfectly honest, I'm starting to grow somewhat restless here anyways. One can only take this fetid stench for so long." The stench in question, of course, being a combination of blood, waste, and charred flesh; not the most pleasant potpourri for the nose.

Noticing the bulbs, she would have likely found them of interest; having moved to procure one in a pouch for further study later on. It was too much of a stretch to jump to any immediate conclusions without a reference book at hand, however; even if a toxin was the suspect in regards to those poor people's behavior.

[Ridai]

With the pyre seeming like it'll burn out without torching the whole forest, Grai saunters over to her steed and mounts it, ruffling it's mane a little. The warrior's eager as ever to continue, knowing trouble always finds her, but she hopes for baddies who fight because of their own volition, not chaps turned into crazies by something.

[Surrealistik]

With his search fruitless, Garithak stands from his hunched, sweeping posture, a meaty palm wiping the sweat from his brow, removing what perspiration his bandana had not absorbed. Noting Ember retrieve a sample of the strange vegetables, the genasi's eyes pique, regarding the wizardess with curiosity.

"Takin' the bulbs huh? Suppose you think that's what they made our supposed distillation with, or are you just hungry?"

The soldier manages a strained chuckle, shaking his head.

"Can't help but wonder if that was the crop those brothers were so enthused about."

Shrugging at these ruminations, he retrieves his banner, gathering up the sum of his gear before loosing his roan. With a firm stroke of its ears and head, deftly tweaking and scratching, he further calms the steadfast animal, settling it down for travel. Lingering to scan the area a final time, he takes a moment to prepare and check over his equipment, then mounts, an inward tilt of his fingers summoning Brutus from its wanderings. Addressing Barasus as he trots out, he again takes lead of the party down the dirt path.

"Call it a hunch, but I figure it's related. We've got a stopped up caravan here, been still for awhile now; most veggies start to rot in a couple of days, so it's been here at least about that long. Personally I figure odds are good we're actually lookin' at about two weeks between the temperature and shade, which is about consistent with the time the troubles started."

Garithak shoots a glance towards the scene of carnage that lay behind, its grisly profile shrinking mercifully into the distance.

"Way I see it, the crazed ones came up this way with the wagons before going berserk. Could'a been some others that had gone up with it, met the same fate as the dead man in camp, but you'd think their bodies would be lyin' about. "

The officer kicks up his shoulders, retreating to contemplative silence.

[Paperscrap]

"It's worth examination." She replied in a startled tone that mirrored someone getting caught shoplifting, legitimately surprised that Gari saw her pocketing one of the strange bulbs. "I don't think I've seen anything quite like them before. Considering the horses seem to be avoiding them, I'd imagine there may be some sort of latent toxin stored inside of them; whether or not they're related to this unfortunate incident, however, remains to be seen. I prefer not to commit to any one solution until there's significant evidence backing it up - confidence is the worst pollutant of thought. That being said, considering there's so many of them scattered about here... it's certainly likely they're the crop that was spoken about." Exhaling deeply, the pyromancer would delicately climb on top of her own horse before giving the others a nod. "A search for bodies might be a good idea. Maybe they were dragged into the treeline?"

[Ridai]

Still sitting on her horse, Grai places her elbows on the animal's behind, leaning back, and adds her own thoughts to the discussion. With a bored yawn. "Who 'n de hells makes a damn campfire some'ere like here first thing an'way..." she mutters to herself, waiting to get going while the smart people figure it out.

[WaffleLord]

Garithak
Any signs of additional corpses? Body parts? No additional bodies, pieces, nor parts. Just the one.

Any visible tracks from the caravan/wagons? If so from what direction(s)? No recent tracks, though weathered ruts in the road show ravel in both directions over a long period of time.

Do any of the corpses look familiar at all? No one you recognize.

Besides the wilted/rotted vegetables that imply the caravan has been here at least a few days, are there any additional indications of how long it's been here? Your experience on other campaigns informs you that with the shady forest and the winter temperatures, those plants could have been there for as long as two weeks.

All
The noon day sun peeks through the trees as you make your way down the King's Road, a sturdy route kicking up very little dust. The still air shows small puffs as you breathe and holds the line of smoke from the pyre straight as a rod to the heavens.

[Ridai]

Grai is riding along, whistling some drinking song to herself to pass the time.

[WaffleLord]

The pleasant ride seems stark contrast to the violence of just a short time ago. The cool air moving very little, trailing in short puffs behind you as your breath warms the air. You keep yourself busy watching the shaded treeline for movement that the corner of your eye tells you is there. Shadows, tree trunks, small brush, small game. You see nothing out of place, nothing out of the ordinary, but your past experiences tell you differently. Something's not right.

Another hour's brisk walk finds you out of the forest and into the rolling plains of the Harkenwold. Known as the bread basket of the Vale, these naturally fertile lands provide a bounty of farmed goods throughout Nentir. The spring, summer, and fall months see farmers planting, plowing, and harvesting from dawn until dusk, but for the winter months the fields lie fallow, taking in groundwater from the light snows, rotting plants left to fertilize the next crops. The Bentwick brothers, as you heard from Fallcrest, were one of the few families that had success with winter crops: broad leafs, gourds, and deep bulbs and tubers. Most farmers rode out the winter with stocks saved from earlier crops, trade from warmer climates, and meat from the cattlemen south of the Moon Hills.

To the south a mile and a half away you see the fortified village of Tor's Hold. What was used in the past as a garrison to protect passage on the King's Road in time of war became a small village in peacetime. The outer wall of Tor's Hold hides any activity that may be going on in the center of town, but the outskirts are quiet and the main gates are closed.

[Ridai]

"Folks mus' be real spooked. Wonder 'ow long they been hid'n'." Seeing absolutely no one out and about with everything just being dead silent is just wrong to Grai, even if it's winter. That's not how her home part of the Vale should be. With the otherwise ideal conditions for travelling, the half-orc estimates how long it will take them to reach the Weistraubs' farm.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak momentarily slows his beast, eyes sweeping cautiously over the span of the old garrison.

"If there's more of those crazies about, I don't blame em. Too far away to really make heads from tails of the Hold's situation, though it seems intact far as I can tell. Either way, it's not our concern at the moment; we've got our priorities, an' that house isn't nearly as well fortified. Let's keep movin'."

The soldier then goads his horse onward, jarring the blue roan to greater speed with a sharp kick of his heels.

[Paperscrap]

Emberlyn seemed to lapse into a sort of melancholic state as they rode onwards, her own contribution to the party chatter relatively minimal. Or, she could have just been halfway falling asleep on her horse. Regardless of the semantics, she was at least raised from the dead when discussion over their next move came to play. "I'd have to agree with Garithak, I think. You're talking about going to that young woman's home first, correct?" The last question seemed awkwardly poised just to confirm the topic she was butting in on was indeed the one she was thinking of at the time. "If so, I'd like to check to see that nothing happened to her first. Something tells me that creatures like the ones we just fought would be a little adverse to attacking a large settlement anyhow. Though completely out of their mind, they seemed to hide and slink about. Without some sort of leader, I can't see them organizing a full on attack. A single house, however..." What she was implying really needn't be said.

[WaffleLord]

The road rolls along the gentle plains of Harkenwold. Nearly an hour passes as your horses trot along the King's Road. Running parallel to the woods you seem to skirt along the edge of endless, gentle waves of land as if a ocean had turned to stone and sprouted winter grasses.

Finally, just past a rough trail that splinters off heading north, the road bends south and soon you come to another rough trail that you know leads to Ilyana's house. Turning, ahead you can see the Weistraub farm: a sturdy, two story farmhouse with a separate barn. The fields here, while tended earlier in the year, have been rooted and left fallow for the winter season. Furrows of tall dry, corn stalks stretch in evenly measured lines for some distance around the homestead. Welcoming neighs can be heard from the stables on the far side of the barn, but two horses peek their heads out from the open barn doors, apparently free from confinement.

As you ride closer, you see that the house has undergone some recent construction. Boards have been ripped up from the porch and hastily nailed closing window openings on both floors. Windows that have shutters have them closed tight. No one can be seen about.

[Ridai]

Grai's gaze sweeps across the scenery before she dismounts and walks towards the house. "Oy, anybody 'n there?"

[Surrealistik]

Garithak performs a careful sweep of the area as he clomps onto the estate, especially concerned with the most apparent means of concealment; the corn stalks.

"Shack up our horses in the barn n' keep quiet till we get to the door. Chances are more of those ferals are about from the looks of the house."

At that he sets about dismounting, quietly, carefully stowing his animal in the adjacent barn, eyes locked on the obfuscating stalks, gesturing at the party to follow. Once the horses have been secured, he moves to the entrance. There, the circumspect officer repeats the code phrase stated by his employer, doing his absolute best to strike a balance between silence and audibility.

"Donal requests a sign of good faith."

[Paperscrap]

It was less a look of anxiety so much as curiosity as Ember brought her horse up alongside the others; carefully maneuvering the creature into the shelter of the barn. At the relative lack of response from anyone inside of the door, the pyromancer would start to snoop around the side of the house while looking for any signs of life; thinking out loud as she did so. "It's perhaps a strange suggestion, but what if it's vacated? Perhaps the boards were just to ward off potential thieves and looters. Quite a bit of work for a questionable deterrent, but it wouldn't be the first time I've heard of such methods being employed."

[WaffleLord]

The boarding, while obviously done with great haste, seems to been planned efficiently. Not more than a crack shows through any window on the first floor. At Garithak's spoken words, no response is heard. The house sounds quiet and still. Emberlyn rounds the house but, apart from more dry cornfields in the distance, nothing more is seen. The rear of the house appears just as tightly sealed as the front.

When Mailkar steps from the barn, however, there is a sudden bump and slam inside the house. Prying bars wrench nails from the door and it flies open. A wirey, senior aged human man holding an pitted woodsman's axe stands in the doorframe. In a harsh whisper he calls, "Get in here! Quickly! All of you!" gesturing wildly with his arms. He steps aside to allow entrance but continually looks to the cornfields, searching.

[WaffleLord]

Garithak
The dry cornstalks stand about six feet tall and are motionless in the still air. You see nothing suspicious but your skin still crawls with expectancy while looking at them.

[Ridai]

Not needing another reminder, Grai ushers Emberlyn, Barases and Garithak into the house, covering them along with Malikar before entering the house herself, axe in hand, just in case.

[Surrealistik]

Seeing the man's shared anxiety about the stalks, Garithak quickly enters at his and Grai's urgent behest, setting down his standard in a gesture of reflexive preparation within seconds of making his way inside. Taking a moment to evaluate his surroundings, points of entry, windows, desks, shelves, and other bits of heavy furniture that might be repurposed as barricades, he turns his attention back to the grizzled old man.

"Take it they've been prowling about the fields then? Roughly how many are we dealing with? Where is Ilyana?"

[WaffleLord]

The man slams the door shut behind you as Grai enters. Picking up a wooden mallet, he begins pounding nails back into a board thrown hastily across the door.
"How many? No idea. They never come at us all at once. We'll be peeking one way and they'll slam against the other side. By the time we're looking, they're already retreating. Course at night, they're stomping everywhere, climbing around, just sniffing for an opening. I've think there might be a couple underneath the house."
He stops, checks his work, and peeks out the cracks. He turns and extends his hand. "Lynn Weistraub. Glad to meet you." He pauses for a moment. "Did you say 'Ilyana'?"
He looks you up and down then slowly turns and quietly speaks towards the staircase. "Ilyana? A moment, please?" From the side wall under the staircase comes a small click, followed by a panel swinging to the side. A tall, athletic looking young woman wearing hunting breeches and a leather vest steps out nimbly from the hidden nook. Trailing behind her are two children, a boy and a girl, age 8, dressed in sleeping tunics.

A short, heavy set human male shuffles in from the kitchen area, he face revealing relief and concern. He corners Emberlyn, "Raymond! He found you!? He sent you? My boy got through? Oh, I doubted him, thought it was a bad idea, but he did it! Is he well? Is he safe?"
The words seem to spill out of the man all at once. He rushes over to Barases. "I'm Belman. Martin Belman, his father. Tell me he's ok."

[Ridai]

Grai gives Garithak a look, telling him that she'll handle the frantic man, going over and firmly placing a hand on Belman's shoulder. "Hey now, slow down. Why don't'cha come with me 'n' we take this from th' top?" The half-orc guides him to the kitchen again, closing the door. "Take a seat," she says, not taking no for an answer.

"Now, I ain't heard o' some'n' called Raymond. What's he look like, what does he do 'n' since when's he been gone?" Her voice is a bit quieter. With the description given, she compares it to the folks from Fallcrest she has most recently seen as well as the wild ones and the torn apart corpse they came across.

[Paperscrap]

Ember would slip inside without further prodding required, her eyes a little wide and wild as she tried to contemplate just what was happening. Obviously, her suspicions centered around the creatures they'd fought earlier, or some conspiracy centered around them; but what if this was some new threat entirely? Surely, the possibility wasn't entirely discountable.

"Who exactly... are 'they'?" she would ask, having neglected to take the offer of shaking hands if only due to the awkwardness of fighting through the rest of her companions as they stood so close to the door. Her eyes would then wander over the newcomers in the room - mostly non combatants, it would seem.

This latter observation would serve to be her downfall as the larger man cornered her. Initially taking his presence and excited tone as a threat, she held up her arms in defense; very grateful and just a little bit embarrassed when Ridai steered him to sit. Flustered, she finally added her voice to the hubub in a very audible manner - speaking over the chaos in hopes of discerning a clear answer. "Enough of this! What in the world is going on here?"

[WaffleLord]

Grai
The man's agitation settles a bit with your forceful hand. He pants a few times after sitting and composes himself. "Raymond. My son. We got chased in here four days ago. When nobody came by, he thought he could outrun them. He made it to our wagon and took off. I'm so glad he made it. I've been so worried." He then proceeds to gush as only a proud father can, telling of his son's strength, courage, and glowing future. Unfortunately, the more he speaks of his son, the more it becomes clear to you that his son was the wild one who jumped Malikar, was subdued, and put at peace.

Emberlyn
Lyn turns to face you during the short silence that follows your outburst. "I'll tell you what I know."

All
"About a week ago, three of my hired hands were cutting the crops in the southern field, getting them ready for the winter burn. One of them came charging back after lunch break saying they'd been attacked by wild bandits. I gathered the rest of the crew and we went down there to find one of my men ripped into little pieces. The other man, Dern, died shortly after we arrived from cuts and bites all over his body."

"Then we saw some folks charging at us from the cut. It was my neighbor Princh, his wife, and their two daughters. I mean, it looked like them, it was their bodies, but whatever spirit was inside them was NOT my neighbor. They came at us screaming bloody murder. Two of my crew went down before we could get our minds around what was happening. Some of crew ran away but we that remained managed to stop the Prinches. Had to kill them to do it. They just wouldn't stop!" he says choking up a bit. "I sent a few men to check on their house while the rest of us came back here to assess. My men came back from the Princh house saying it looked fine, like they'd just stepped out for a walk. The crew headed home and I haven't had a one report back for work yet."

"Over the last few week, it's gotten worse. We've seen a few crazies prowl in the open, especially at night. We've seen a wagon or two go by on the road with no one at the reins. Worse, last night, as we were peeking at them, I could have sworn I saw Princh go by with two of my hired hands, none of them looked right. Torn clothes, smeared faces. some times they'd just stop and stare like they're listening to music, and other times go running nowhere, screaming fit to bust."

He pauses and seems to deflate a little. "We're about out of choices. Food's starting to run short. Belmans rode up being chased. We got them in safe just in time, but we know they're out there. Can't stay safe here forever."

The small girl, hiding behind her sister, walks out slowly, her boots looking quite out of place sticking out beneath her nightgown. With brown plaits down her back swinging as she steps, she approaches Malikar with a broad smile and stands beside him, trying to hold one of his hands in both of hers.

[Ridai]

The warrior listens to Belman for a while. "Would've loved to get to know 'im, sounds like a real fine man," Grai interrupts the man talking about his son, sighing internally at her realization. Leaning with her back against the counter, Grai places her hands against the edge, speaking a little more clearly.

"Look, on the way here, at the campsite, we were first attacked by those crazy fellas, five o' 'em. Two elf guys, one elf mother hold'n' what's left of her baby, a redheaded human gal... and a human young man who looked a lot like what you're describ'n'. We fought, killed most o' 'em, knocked him out to see what we're up against, tried to fix him. Couldn't. He wasn't himself anymore. I put him outta his misery myself. I can assure you he didn't suffer." Grai reaches out and puts a hand on Martin's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Martin."

This was her other grim role in the military. Grai isn't the most eloquent of speakers, but she could take delivering news like this, something no one was envious about. She might be close to an animalistic brute at times, but she is no stranger to loss and people should know the truth. With everything said and done, Grai prepares herself for Belman's reaction. Some people just break down, others go in denial, some attacked or accused her. She'll just have to weather whatever is coming.

[Paperscrap]

Oh dear. Listening to the story, Emberlyn couldn't help but to feel a little bit guilty at her little outburst only moments earlier. Clearly this family had gone through quite a bit; it was no wonder why they were so on edge.

"My apologies. I didn't realize..." She replied with all of the courtesy that she could command. Wanting to address the severity of these matters further, she nonetheless felt it wise to bite her tongue in the presence of the children; surely they'd been through enough as it was.

Seeing as how Grai was engaged in the grim task of bearing bad news, and the satyr was occupied with one of the citizens, Ember turned towards Gari; her voice barely audible as she spoke into his ear.

"We need to do something to help them. Donal sent us here, and I doubt he would be happy to know that we left these poor people without offering a hand in their direction; not to mention how reprehensible such an act would be in the first place. Do you think it possible to escort them back to Fallcrest? Surely eliminating this situation from the source would be preferable, but I'm not so certain the solution will come to us easily."

[Surrealistik]

Garithak frowns at this news, dismay at the madness' spread apparent with the pained curdling of his lips.

"Well we definitely have no intention of stickin' around, that's for sure. We were only sent to check on Ily, but we can't leave you all here to starve or be torn apart in good conscience."

The soldier looks carefully over those gathered, eyes slowly panning over the assembled survivors, as though gauging the fitness and physical condition of each.

"Way I see it, you need to make a run for safety. We'll cover you as best an' long as we can, but we still have business here; I suppose we might detour to make sure you all get back safe, but from the sound of things, time is of the essence. We need to get to the bottom of things and work to contain the problem before it gets any worse. Seek Donal out if you can, a guard captain if you can't; tell him we sent you. Besides what you know, relay that Tor's Hold is locked down an' shuttered."

Sighing as he considers how best to facilitate this exodus, his thoughts wander to the barn horses.

"You should be fine if there's a wagon we can prep for your escape. These crazies may be fast, but a horse drawn carriage at full trot should outpace them."

[WaffleLord]

As Grai speaks, the man continues to stare at her without any reaction. His stare continues after she's spoken. Then as if in slow motion, the man's features begin to crumble. His countenance sinks, his mouth opens in a silent scream, his eyes close tightly, and he begins to slump over as if deflating. He stays doubled over, silently shuddering as he hugs himself tightly.

Lynn runs a hand through his thinning hair. "We've been safe in here because we...ah...don't attract attention, but as soon as we start moving around outside these doors, they'll be on us. The horses are nearby, but it'll take us a minute or two to hook up the cart. Once we're on the road, I think we'll be fine. Straight shot to Fallcrest if, as you say, you've cleared they way." Looking to the girl with Malikar, "We'll have no problem finding Donal. He's been working with Ilyana for a few years now. He's been a great help with her." He grins weakly but with genuine love at her. "Rebekka," he says turning to the young woman, "ready the supplies. You'll have to see to the kids. I'll hurry Belman along." He looks with sympathy to the broken man.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak nods as if in approval at Lynn's initiative.

"Right then, get everyone ready, everythin' in place; we can't afford to be unprepared, er to have any delays. This has to be done quickly and with precision; lives are on the line. We'll do our best to hold em off, you do your best to get the hell out of here."

He then looks to his companions, his gaze sobering, expression grave.

"If any of you want to bow out, now's the time. Help em with the wagon and head on back with the rest; there's no shame in turning from somethin' like this, and I'm not gonna think less of any who do. When we began, we had little idea what we were gettin' into. Hell, the only thing keepin' me signed on now is my own stubborn sense of obligation; no need for anyone else to feel trapped."

The soldier shakes his head before intently regarding each in turn, eyes searching their features, scouring for doubt and reservation.

"If you think things are bad now, well, chances are it's only gonna get worse later. We ain't nearly out of the woods, not by a long shot, so straighten up and think real hard about whether you want to stay; this may be your last chance to get to safety."

[WaffleLord]

Malikar
The minotaur looks down to the small hands clutching his own. While his features remain stoic, it is not hard to still that something has given him pause. "I cannot leave the innocents to themselves," he says at last. "If they were to meet something on the road, they would stand little chance. You have all proven yourselves able warriors. Needs be that I go with those whose cannot do for themselves." He looks again at the little girl who smiles up at him and clings tighter.

[Ridai]

Grai kneels down beside the man, briefly putting an arm around his back. "I am so sorry. But now you have to live, ya hear me? I'm sure Raymond wouldn't want it any other way. Live." She whispers to him, very insistently so towards the end. Loss makes bad things happen, she's seen it often enough. For now, though, the half-orc leaves the man to himself, at least until they would have to escape.

Hearing Garithak talking, Grai doesn't have to think about a response. "I'm stay'n' 'til whoev'r did this is dead. Hat'n' what I have'ta do, but no one else's around to do th' job. 'Sides, don't care if me mom Nerra 'n' all th' oth'r folks dun want me 'round 'n Hark'n. Closest thing to a home," Grai says with a somber tone, followed by a short chuckle when she mentions her druid mother and home. Checking up on her is also pretty high on the to-do list.

She gives an approving nod to Malikar, her expression only disrupted for a fraction of a second by an envious look towards Malikar and the girl. No one would ever regard her like that. Afterwards, she waits for Ember's and Barases' responses.

[Paperscrap]

Emberlyn would take in a deep breath as the somber atmosphere turned for the worst once the ill news had been broken. Finding it easier to distance herself than to try and connect further with the shattered people in the room, her gaze had wandered off towards the floor, lost in thought.

Nonetheless, the decision being made here drew her back into the conversation - if only to state once more her own opinions on the matter. Likely due to her companions conviction, the pyromancer adopted a small, sad smile - it was moving to know that they would be willing to sacrifice their all to see this through. Clearly, Emberlyn would have it no other way herself. "I'm afraid I'm not so good with this sort of thing, so my own words likely won't resound in the same way that all of yours have. I've made a promise, however, to see this through, and I'll stand behind it. Besides, I imagine there's much to learn from this event. Perhaps the knowledge we could glean from putting a stop to this madness might prevent it from ever popping up in the future."

[WaffleLord]

Barases
"Truly, this will be an adventure worth singing about,"the faun thinks to himself, "but if a bard falls in the forest, who is left to sing his dirge?" He scratches deeply between the curls on his head, shakes the cobwebs from his mind, and readies his gear. Gripping the hilt of his heavy blade, he takes a deep breath and nods to Garithak.

No response yet from Felhammer PM. Proceed we must or fall stale.

[Ridai]

Grai doesn't say anything, but she doesn't blame Barases in the slightest. Instead, she is relieved to know that he'll be safe. Those who go into battle with Grai are considered her pack and she watches out for them, especially those who haven't been on a real battlefield that much yet (even a little for that snivelly private back then who kept staring at her ass, even though she would hate to admit it). Now Ember is the only pup of the pack. All the more reason to watch over her. The half-orc encouragingly puts a muscular arm around the pyromancer's shoulders to let her know, almost oversized gouge in the other hand, before speaking up. "Ready when you're, Capt'n."

[Surrealistik]

Acknowledging Barases' indecision, Garithak's expression takes on an empathetic quality, the genasi seeming to sympathize with the satyr's inability to reach a consensus.

"Should you have any doubts Barases, best to heed em an' return with the others; I find that in situations of ambivalence, one's misgivings tend to be steeped in reason."

With a final nod to the dithering bard, he turns to address those gathered.

"Not much else to do but get things underway; we're doing this _now_. Sooner we finish, the better; let's get moving. Everyone see to your tasks!"

[Ridai]

"Aye." Her gouge ready to cleave any oncoming danger apart, Grai moves to protect the noncombatants as they make their escape.

[Paperscrap]

Ember would accept Barassus' remark with a nod of her head; clearly understanding why he may feel like flip flopping on the issue at hand. Afterall, it was typically not easy to accept a task where death could very well not be just a chance but a genuine probability. For her, it was something best not to think about - one of the rare cases where trusting ones gut instincts and doing what's 'right' outweighed careful consideration.

Grai's hand upon her shoulder seemed to solidify the idea that the choice had been the right one. Though she only acknowledged the gesture with a faded smile, it had done its part in reinforcing that they were all in this together. The pyromancer would nod as Gari decided to cast forth those last orders, her hand reaching out to clutch her newly purchased staff. "I'm sure you've seen worse. So help me through this, will you?" She joked to her implement - although really, her words fit either of the two veterans all the same.

[WaffleLord]

Lynn and Rebekka cinch the straps on their backpacks. Rebekka hurriedly checks the children's clothing to make sure nothing will impede their progress while Lynn slips a cudgel into his straps and kneels beside Belman, placing his hand on the man's shoulder and talking to him in low, calming tones. They both rise. Belman looks at the young boy and nods to Lynn. Two deep breaths and he's moving, standing next to the boy and Rebekka. The young girl stays beside Malikar, her smile calm and warm.

Lynn looks around the room one more time, a mental checklist ticking off in his head. He nods and says, "OK. I'll thank you now because time will be short later. We might have lasted another day or so, but after that it would have been dicey. So...thanks."

"We'll need a good, uninterrupted 30-40 seconds to get a horse in position and hooked up. I don't dare risk two. Once we're moving we should be ok. Look to the cornfields for trouble."

"Everyone set? Let's go!"
Ilyana's Escape (https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/12XP1MIXaobSYAAJHWeleEO6yS2pw_48ytECuQvajGio/edit?pli=1)
Go ahead and roll initiative. I'll let you know when it comes into play. You, too, Celt.

[Surrealistik]

Quickly noting the layout of the house, Garithak gestures at the door to the north.

"Leave from the rear. Me, Brutus n' Grai will ward the front an' act as a buffer for any that come from the stalks. Perhaps you should take up with them Emberlyn; keep from the fray and support us at range. No complaints if you want to get up close an' personal with another pyroclasm though; just mind the flammables."

With the group ready, and the refugees set to leave as instructed, Garithak checks over his equipment one final time, grouping up near the front door with Brutus.

"We'll take the lead Grai; follow us in."

With that the genasi sprints out towards the cornstalks, bounding over the balcony to plunge down his tattered banner as though in declaration of the party's stand.

Brutus and Garithak run to their current position.
Athletics to jump over the railing: [roll0]

Garithak plants his Battle Standard of Healing.

[WaffleLord]

Garithak
You bolt from the front door with Brutus tight on your heels. The drumming of your boots on the weakened, hollow porch booms like a kettle drum heralding your approach. Vaulting nimbly over the rail, you land with your banner at your side impaling the ground to stand firm. Your battle-ready stance challenges all comers.

Nothing but silence greets you.

All

The "refugees" sneak out the back opting for watchful stealth rather than speed. They search from trouble from all directions, but the cornfields keep drawing their attention. Ilyana seems particularly troubled. Gone is her calm smile although she continues to grip Malikar's hand in her own. Her face is twisted in deep concentration, sweat beading on her face. Lynn spends more time watching her than the cornfields.

[Ridai]

Grai easily keeps pace, standing right next to Garithak, muscles tense in predatory anticipation of the coming fight. Eyes keep scanning about for enemies, waiting for the ambush, the sudden burst of carnage. Can't be long now. Has to be.

Grai is currently in the Berserker Charge stance and readies an action to charge the first crazy that moves within her range of 10 squares.

[WaffleLord]

Barases

Weighing heavily Garithak's words, the faun follows everyone outside staying somewhat indecisively between the two groups. Fight or flight?

[Ridai]

Noticing Barases' indecision, Grai's fierce expression softens for a moment, motioning the satyr towards the stable with a nod. Soon after, her readiness is restored, looking for infected to intercept and kill.

[Paperscrap]

Ember would nod as Garithak handed out orders, her expression hardening to match the task at hand.

"Right. Malikar and I will see to it that they're kept from harm. It's pointless to warn you to be careful, so instead I'll wish you good luck - for all of us, really. Let's hope the creatures are resting."

[WaffleLord]

With Lynn in the lead, the group makes its way carefully towards the barn, looking everywhere at once. Ilyana begins to breath more heavily. Digging her toe into a rut in the ground, she stumbles forward, catching herself before falling, but her eyes flash open and her expression changes from focus to panic. "I've lost it!" she cries.

"RUN!" Lynn calls to the others. The cornstalks seem to come to life, swaying as though tossed by a storm. The banshee-like screaming you heard at the campsite seems to come from all directions at once.

[WaffleLord]

Thingies 1 (stone border) - [roll0]
Thingies 2 (wimpy) - [roll1]
Thingies 3 (unseen) - [roll2]

Bursting forth with a wild scream, a mangled elf appears from the corn. He looks upon the groups as a feast laid bare for him. Behind him, the corn continues to wave as unseen creatures move through it. Other wailing is heard but direction is hard to pin down.

Passive Perceptions/Knowledge > 18It is fairly obvious that this fast but scrawny creature would fall with even the most basic strike (minion)

[WaffleLord]

The decrepit elf flies at Grai, arms flopping madly as if it were barely in control of itself.
Claw vs Grai AC (20) - [roll0]

Its arms slap ineffectively about you, more confusing than damaging.

This creature, though different than those that attacked you at the campsite, has the same crazed look and wild screaming. While previously the attackers appeared to be people gone mad, this one seems to have had a harder life. This one looks as if weren't really alive.

Grai and Emberlyn up.

[WaffleLord]

Observations (Skill Checks)

This creature, though more frail than the campsite wildings, has the same aura about it. Not the overpowering stench of undead but definitely something's wrong. It doesn't seem to act by choice. It is driven by need. If it weren't for its speed, you think it was a zombie.

[Ridai]

Grai unabashedly stops the infected with a quick punch to the screaming face, following up with a guttural shout of her own and swinging at the wretched creature full force, white-and-blue lightning crackling around her vicious deathbringer. Normal combatants might try to subdue or knock-out. No, Grai seeks to maim and kill, no mercy, no holding back. "The field! Burn 'em all!" she shouts, waiting for the boom of thunder from her enchanted weapon cleaving through her prey.

We really need coordinates on the map.

Free Switch to Battle Wrath stance (+2 damage with MBAs)

Minor Activate lightning gouge property, all damage dealt is lightning damage

Standard MBA against the infected in front of Grai.
[roll0] vs. AC
Hit: [roll1] (Brutal 1) lightning damage and target gets slid one square to the southwest (due to Mark of Storm activated by Grai's lightning weapon)
Brutal dice: [roll2]
Total damage: 28

[WaffleLord]

The scrawny figure in front of Grai doesn't get pushed back by the force of the half-orc's swing. Rather, its liquified remains splash against the dried corn stalks as a flash of lightning erupts at the point of contact.

[Paperscrap]

(( Going to delay until some more targets show up! I think burning their corn fields down, while probably effective, might not be the most sustainable solution here if we can help it))

[WaffleLord]

From the cornfields to the south, two large wildings, hair matted, torn clothes with rippling muscles come screaming towards Grai and Brutus. They attack with a ravenous fury. From around the house to the west, another comes charging towards the refugees, aiming its anger at Rebekka.

Stone 1 attack vs Brutus AC (18) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1] and ongoing 5 (save ends)
Stone 2 vs Grai AC (20) - [roll2]
Damage - [roll3]
Stone 3 vs Rebekka AC (16) - [roll4]
Damage - [roll5] and ongoing 5 (save ends)

The half-orc barely deflects the furious assault with the haft of her gouge, but Brutus fairs worse, getting several bites along his muscular neck. Rebekka screams as the wilding rips a tear along her side and bites her arm. She falls to the ground, blood flowing freely from her open wound.

Emberlyn and Garithak up.

[WaffleLord]

Observations

These wildings are very similar to the ones from the campground, but are more muscular. Their strength seems to come from their madness as their bodies seem disproportionate with oversized arms and torsos.(brute)

[Paperscrap]

The sudden scream - just as Ember had turned towards the cornfield - caught the pyromancer off guard. Choosing speed over careful selection, the gensai would respond with an elementary fire spell in hopes of scaring the creature off. "Get away from her!" She shouted, before realizing that it may be necessary to warn the others of the second front they faced. "They're attacking from behind!"

Mechanical:
I'm just going to use....
Scorching Burst:[roll0] versus reflex
Damage:[roll1] irresistable fire
[/SPOILER]

[Surrealistik]

As Rebekka is savaged to a cacophony of terrified screams, joined by Brutus' howling as the stone of his body flecks off in fist sized chunks, Garithak rapidly scans the field, quickly and methodically working to reassess his position. With the discipline and honed, decisive efficiency of his experience and station, he immediately moves to act, directing Brutus to advance as he darts around to Grai's side.

Maneuvering in place, a plunge of his spear prefaces a splitting of the earth, waves of churning soil knocking the soldier's foe off balance as he follows up with the haft of his weapon, providing an opening for his companion to take advantage of. No orders are necessary; Grai is acclimatized to the maneuver from her time with the captain, the fulfillment of its brutal outcome instinctive, like second nature.

With the deed done, he turns his attention to the Satyr.

"Barasus, tend to the girl, and cover our rear with Emberlyn!"

Brutus takes 5 ongoing damage.

Move Action: Move to R12. Brutus shifts to P12.

Earthshock:
[roll0] vs Fort (with CA due to Brutus' aura)
Hit: S2 is knocked prone.

Commander's Strike: vs S2
[roll1] vs AC (+1 from Chieftan's Spear, +2 if S2 is prone due to CA)
Hit: [roll2] (+2 from Brutus' aura, +5 from Commander's Strike) damage. Slide S2 1 square to P13.
[roll3]

Save vs Brutus Ongoing: [roll4]

[WaffleLord]

Batrazaar and Argius

"Better late than never. Hmmph."
Sometimes Donal can be an ungrateful pain in the ass. He calls Argius in all the way from the Seven Pillared Hall under Thunderspire Mountain, and, after many hours in an uncomfortable saddle, makes him hop right back on and take off after a group that left earlier that morning. All on a hunch? This taxes the previous trust he had earned.

At least Argius had some experience with him. Batrazaar received a letter out of the blue asking him to accept a mission, sight unseen, with very little background information. After praying hard for guidance, Batrazaar met with Donal and soon met Argius. Together they set out for the Harkenwold to help find the reason for the missing deliveries..

Passing the halfway campground and seeing the carnage that was there, they added a little speed to their mounts. As the road turned south, they heard a large clap of thunder under clear skies from the east. Sensing danger, they turn their mounts and charge towards a house in the distance. Nearing the farmhouse, they see a group a of people matching Donal's descriptions of the earlier party being attacked by some wild, disheveled mad men. One more spur and the horses charge in to action.

Batrazaar and Arius may move your horses 10 squares then proceed with your turn in order (Batrazaar now, Argius after next enemy turn.) Emergency dismount is minor action or regular dismount is "difficult terrain" (2 sq. worth of movement)

[WaffleLord]

Malikar and Refugees

Rebekka's screams draw Malikar's attention. He hefts his greatspear, ready to charge in, but a squeeze from Ilyana halts him. He stares into her eyes for a moment, then nods and hurries her towards the barn. Lynn, not looking back, bolts for the horse already wearing the harness for the wagon. Belman has to nearly pick-up the boy to keep him moving as he keeps screaming, wanting to return to his sister Rebekka.

Batrazaar's up.

[Irish Musician]

Batrazaar (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=397093), Paladin of Kord

Batrazaar rides up to the house that he had been looking for after quite some time. Not really paying attention to what is right in front of him, Batrazaar is looking around the house, in the fields, and then his gaze rests on the action in front of him. Quickly reading the situation he sees some ugly things attacking, what he thinks is the people he is supposed to meet with as described to him, and he breaks into action. He kicks the side of his horse, crossing the distance between them quickly and yells out, "Kord give me Strength!!!!!", as well as letting out a ferocious roar. He rides up to just in front of the ugly things and launches off his horse, landing behind the things and grabbing their attention. Batrazaar swings his mighty axe at one of them, while barking a challenge full of divine energies at the other.

Actions
Horse's Move - To N13
My move - Minor jump down to O13 from horse
Minor - Mark Q13
Standard - Challenging Strike against O12 AC, [roll0]
Damage - [roll1], and the target is marked until the end of your next turn or until you move into a square not adjacent to the target.

[WaffleLord]

The sudden appearance of dragonborn and dwarven heroes brings a wave of relief, but, as if sensing additional prey, two stealthy wildings erupt from beneath the porch. They scream and charge Barases and Batrazaar, which spooks the newcomer's horse causing it to shy away. The wildings pounce onto their victims with ferocious hunger.

Pounce Attack vs Batrazaar AC (25) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]
Pounce Attack vs Barases AC (19) - [roll2]
Damage - [roll3]

Despite the flail of arms and teeth, both attacks are fended off.


Go, Argius!

EDIT:
Observations
This wilding, while similar to the original wild ones, move with a smoother grace, blend in better, and seems more interesting in getting their hands on a choice piece of meat (lurker)

[WaffleLord]

Barases
Fending off the flailing wilding, the faun begins to hum his magiks into life. By the time he has repelled the attack, he is nearly in full voice. Drawing his scimitar, he lashes out quickly creating a distracting flash to confuse his opponent.

Minor - Activate Skald's Aura
Minor - Activate Song of Serendipity - +2 to Rebekka's defenses
Standard - MBA w/Lesser Flash of Distraction vs Lurker 2 AC - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

But the beast seems to notice neither the scimitar nor the flash. He hopes his magiks will be able to aid Rebekka.

[Sierim]

Hearing the girl's screams from behind the house, Argius turns his horse to the side, rushing to the back. Seeing the creature, he spits a curse in his Coven's tongue, "Dosé moy moyrtas su! Your sight and soul are mine!"

Rolling off of his horse, Argius rushes toward the creature, pounding his mordenkrad into the ground as he goes. Black smoke rises with each thud, racing before him toward the creature, forming icy black hands. They tear at the monster, threatening to freeze the flesh off its bones.

With a final burst of energy, Argius lifts his mordenkrad over his shoulders, black energy rippling from his bracers to the tip of the hammer's head. He brings it down on the creature with a resounding smash!


Horse Move: E3
Minor: Curse enemy at N3, granting Argius +2 to all defenses against said enemy
Move: Emergency Dismount at F3, complete move at I3 and activating Shadow Walk
Standard: Frigid Darkness: If it hits, the target grants CA until end of my next turn, and loses AC equal to my INT mod (+3) until the end of my next turn.
Attack: [roll0] vs Fort
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] Curse + 5 damage for Tactical Presence
Critical: [roll3]
Total Damage: 19

Action Point
Standard: Charge to M3
Eldritch Strike
Attack: [roll4] vs AC (AC-5 if previous attack hit)
Damage: [roll5] + [roll6] Curse (first attack hit) + [roll7] Horned Helm
Critical: [roll8] +6 if first attack missed.

Total Damage for Eldritch Strike: 20
Overall Damage Against Brute 3: 39
If hit, slide target to L3.

[WaffleLord]

The corn fields erupt with screaming, scrawny figures of quickened death. Two of them charge Garithak, while the other two find a quick meal in the children.

Minion 2 claw vs Garithak AC (19) - [roll0]
Minion 3 claw vs Garithak AC (19) - [roll1]
Minion 4 claw vs Ilyana AC (13) - [roll2]
Minion 5 claw vs boy AC (11) - [roll3]

Damage:
Garithak 16 damage
Ilyana 8 damage
boy 8 damage

All three are grabbed. Escape DC 16

The children scream with terror as the fiends' claws rip at them and try to pull back into the corn fields. Garithak, too, feels the bite of their claws, but his training does not permit him to call out in pain.

Go, Grai.

[Surrealistik]

As one of the fiends attempts to latch onto his chest, Garithak meets its attack and responds with a guttural roar, instantly skewering the crazed thing. Muscles bunched and flexing, he flings its writhing corpse off into the cornfield from whence it came, viscera spilling out freely as it careens through the air whilst golden stalks rustle in their gruesome receipt.

Teeth locked in a painful grimace, the captain immediately regards his second foe, haft of his spear scarcely keeping its champing teeth and flailing claws from doing further damage.

Immediate Reaction: Vengeance is Mine:

MBA: [roll0] vs AC (whoever's grabbing me)
Damage: [roll1]

MBA (Grai): [roll2] vs AC (+1 from Chieftan's Spear)
Damage: [roll3]
Brutal Dice: [roll4]

[Ridai]

Seeing the infected rip into her pack and especially the children, every kind of control is burned from Grai's mind, soon followed by a guttural, extremely loud scream, channelling the entirety of all her fury and hatred. Gone is the love of battle and any kind of joy, replaced by a terrible beast dead-set on mutilating, crushing, killing all who oppose her.

Powerful muscles move the half-orc behind the creature in front of Barases in only a few heartbeats, accompanied by resounding steps, bringing her crackling and booming weapon around, deadly intent on splattering the guts of this blight upon creation against the building audible from her shout. Grai follows through with her motion so much her gouge slams into the wall, making her whip around and rip it out again, sending splinters flying, before immediately leaping at the one unharmed brute's back, bringing the heavy, brutal blade down upon it, another mad scream ringing across the fields.

GRAI SMASH! Also, Grai's charges don't provoke OAs, due to Badge of the Berserker.

Minor Assume Berserker Charge stance

Minor Use Screaming Armor's power on Brute 1
Effect (Fear): Brute 1 takes -2 to attacks until Grai's EoNT

Standard Charge Lurker 1, moving to O10.
[roll0] vs. AC (includes charge bonus, stance bonus and CA from flanking with Barases)
Hit: Grai uses Power Strike, dealing [roll1] (Brutal 1) + 15 lightning damage. Shift to O9 due to Boots of Adept Charging.
Brutal dice: [roll2]

AP: Standard Charge Brute 1, moving to O11
[roll3] vs. AC (includes charge bonus, stance bonus, CA from flanking with Barases and the bonus from Garithak's Tactical Presence)
Hit: Grai uses Furious Assault and her Lightning Gouge's power, dealing [roll4] (Brutal 1) + 19 lightning damage (includes Garithak's Tactical Assault). Brute 1, Brute 2 and Lurker 2 take [roll5] lightning damage from the weapon power.
Brutal dice: [roll6]


Total damage (all lightning):
Brute 1: 39 (see OOC for even more damage dice)
Brute 2: 4
Lurker 1: 35
Lurker 2: 4

[Surrealistik]

With time to settle after his retaliation, Garithak takes in a measure of the field, noting Grai has already slipped into one of her berserker rages, cutting a swath through their maddened assailants. The sight, perhaps ironically, appears to in some way reassure the veteran, grimace turning to a thin smile at his companion's rampage. When he notices the plight of the children however, the startings of triumph on his lips curdle to a sneer of reflexive hatred.

"Malikar, get on those bastards! Don't let em drag off the kids!

His head darts about to regard his fellow genasi, one wary eye on the gnawing beast attempting to thrust past his spear.

"Ember, me an' you are gonna finish this now. Get ready to incinerate the lot of em, and damn the collateral!"

[WaffleLord]

The brutish fiends are driven to fury by the smell of their own blood and turn upon the nearest victim. Grai’s lastest attack gets the wilding’s attention. He turns and attacks with bloody claws despite a slight fearful aversion.
The second brute ignores the fading Brutus and turns his attention to Batrazaar.
The third brute can’t wait to sink his claws into Argius for some reflavored dwarf bits.

Brute 1 Claw vs Grai AC (20) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

Brute 2 Claw vs Batrazaar AC (25) - [roll2] (forgot CA, but wouldn't help)
Damage - [roll3]

Brute 3 Claw vs Argius AC (18+2) - [roll4]
Damage - [roll5]

The Gods smile as not a evil finger is lain upon you.

[Surrealistik]

Brutus fades to the Elemental Chaos as injuries compel his exodus, vanishing in a rumbling shimmer of fire and howling wind. Though dismayed at his companion's departure, despondence at once becomes righteous anger as Garithak's attentions level at his grappler.

Grasping his spear in both hands, the enraged officer tears off the scrawny madman with an explosive shove, shaft of the weapon laying into the thing's chest, nearly forcing it to the ground in a surge of jarring might. Rolling with the momentum, Garithak ambles back by his gently flapping standard. There he spots a target of opportunity, lunging once at the spindly foe adjacent Barasus and laying bare the way for the fall of his ally's blade. When his companion strikes true, he follows up with an empowered assault on the second muscled brute, darting head of his spear biting deep into the cannibal's body.

"Do it Ember. Burn em all!"

Move:

Athletics check vs DC 16 Grab: [roll0]

Shift to Q11.

Rest of actions contingent on results of above check.

Standard:

Commander's Strike vs Lurker 1
[roll1] (Learning Bonus + Commander's Strike bonus) vs L1 AC
[roll2] damage (+5 from Commander's Strike).
Song of Serendipity: Garithak gains a +2 power bonus to his first attack roll.

Action Point: Standard

Warlord's Favour vs Brute 2
[roll3] (+2 if Barasus' MBA hit) vs B2 AC
[roll4] damage.
Hit Effect: Emberlyn gains a +6 power bonus to attack rolls until the end of Garithak's next turn.

Minor:
Adaptive Strategem:
Effect: Emberlyn gains a +5 power bonus to damage rolls until the end of Garithak's next turn.

[Paperscrap]

As the farmlands around them erupted into chaos, Ember panicked momentarily. The screams of the innocent charges mixed in with the wails of these stricken creatures seemed to have caught the pyromancer off guard - there were too many fronts that required assistance, too many lives at stake. All of that befuddlement faded as Gari shouted at her - the gensai's face snapping in his direction with a flash of insight. "Of course, that's it! If I can only attract the creature's attention...."

Fortunately, she knew just the thing. First, one had to prepare. With a wave of her hand, the grass that surrounded Batrazaar ignited with unnatural swiftness, the flames licking at the feet of the enemies surrounding the allied warrior while conveniently fading away wherever he stepped.

There was a momentary pause as the pyromancer cocked a grin - her eyes hardening on the zone of fire in a mad haze. From the fire, three mighty coiling pillars of flame erupted forth in a grand column that stretched towards the skies; charring and burning the unfortunate creatures who happened to be in the way of their ascent. As they climbed, the towers of flame seemed to twist and change - growing serpentine faces and maws of dripping fire. Their 'bodies' hunched and twisted, even as additional columns and matching faces erupted from their trunks like the legendary hydra. In a sudden crash, all of the heads reared back before slamming down onto Ember's victims with a terrible hiss - striking with unnatural accuracy. Only one avoided the showy display. For the rest, nothing remained. "Blast it all, I missed one. Don't let it get the children, Malikar!"

Mechanics:
*Move action to R11

*Standard Action: Daily - Fountain of Flame
(Gains +5 to attack and damage from Gari)

versus reflex on Brute 1
[roll1] versus reflex on Brute 2
[roll2] versus reflex on Lurker 2

On hit, deals [roll3] irresistable fire damage. On miss, deals half damage. Leaves behind a flaming zone that deals 5 damage to any enemy that enters or ends its turn there until the end of the encounter.

*Action Point!
(Gain a further +5 untyped to damage and +2 to attack from Gari)

*Standard Action: Encounter - Fire Shroud
Attack is expanded with 'enlarge spell', +1 radius and -2 damage
[roll]1d20+18 versus reflex on Brute 1
1d20+18 versus reflex on Brute 2
1d20+18 versus reflex on Lurker 1
1d20+18 versus reflex on Lurker 2
1d20+18 versus reflex on Minion 3
1d20+18 versus reflex on Minion 4
1d20+18 versus reflex on Minion 5

On hit, deals [roll4] irresistable fire damage and inflicts 5 ongoing irresistable fire damage (save ends).

[WaffleLord]

Malikar & Refugees

"Fiend! DANCE WITH ME!!" roars Malikar, launching himself at the wilding grabbing Ilyana.

MBA vs Minion 4 AC - [roll0]

His swing cuts clean through the fiend. He grabs Ilyana and hurries her inside the barn. Belman and the boy follow. Lynn grabs the harnessed horse and prepares to hitch it to the cart.

Go, Batrazaar!

[Irish Musician]

Batrazaar (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=397093), Paladin of Kord

Looking around, Batrazaar hear the fighting of his comrade he rode in with happening north of him, so he Roars a great challenge to the vile thing and charges it, swinging his axe, trying to sink into its gross flesh.

Actions
Move - to P8
Minor - Mark Enemy at L3
Standard - Charge L3, [roll0] VS AC - Dmg [roll1]

[Sierim]

With a swift, curt nod to the dragonborn, Argius rushes away from the slavering brute, taunting the creature to harm him.

Move to P1, provoking OA from brute 3 (Argius effectively has 25 AC, counting Batrazaar's mark and +1 shield bonus to all allies). Movement resets Shadow Walk.

Once at a safe distance, he drops his mordenkrad and pulls the other off his back, then charges the brute again. The ground trembles as he crashes toward the brute, as if the earth itself stands behind his attack. As Argius swings, a massive wave of ethereal rocks and dust rise from behind him, following his hammer and rushing toward his foe.

Free Action: Drop Pact Mordenkrad +1 (will pick it up after battle, unless Waffle decides to steal it :smalleek:)
Minor: Ready Avalanche Mordenkrad +1
Standard: Charge to M2 and use Eldritch Strike
Attack: [roll0] vs AC-3 (Attack roll includes CA) *prays the brute has a default AC <= 18*
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] Curse + [roll3] Horned Helm
Critical: [roll4] and the target is knocked prone.
On hit, slide brute 3 to M3 (should put it between Batrazaar and Argius)

[Ridai]

The corpses of her prey burning before her, Grai still hears fighting going on, rushing around the house in a wide arc and promptly charging directly at the remaining infected.

Move to T5

Standard Charge Brute 3, moving to N3
[roll0] vs. AC
Hit: [roll1] lightning damage

Coming down from a huge leap with another shout, Grai cleaves the creature apart from head to toe, thunder booming and thrusting the gory pieces through the air as they are charred or liquified by the eruption of crackling lightning.

[WaffleLord]

With no fiends in sight, you might be tempted to relax if it weren't for the continued screaming from the cornfields. Distance is difficult to tell but sonic maelstrom is increasing. It could be ten seconds, it could be more, but your senses tell you, more are coming.

As if to confirm your senses, from inside the barn you hear screams of wilding and screams of children. Two fiends leap down the stairs from the barn's second level and rush Lynn.

Lurker 3 Pounce vs Lynn AC - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]
Prone and grabbed (-2 to escape)

Minion 6 claw vs Lynn AC - [roll2]

Total Damage - 21 damage


A third timbre of scream reaches your ears. That of a grown man in intense pain.

Go Garithak and Emberlynn.

[Surrealistik]

Shooting an apprehensive glance towards the howling cornfields, Garithak curses under his breath at the unwelcome realization that the party had much work left to do. When a cacophony of screaming issues from the stables, the genasi's head snaps round to regard the weathered structure, his mumbled pejoratives intensifying to sudden audibility.

"Goddamn it, these bastards just won't stop comin'. Ember, get on over to that barn ASAP; I'll follow you in. Everyone else, make your way over, and pack up my banner if you can; we might just need to hole up for this one."

[Paperscrap]

RP:
Swearing after her showy display had not been enough to attract the creatures to her, Ember would give a brisk nod towards the captain before yanking his banner up from the earth in a single pull. Wasting little time, she would corner the barn. Clearly, given the circumstances inside of the barn, her normal fire magics might not be such a good idea; instead shooting out an elementary missile of force at one of the ambushers. "Hang in there, Lynn! We're coming!"

Mechanics:
Minor? Grab the battle standard.
Move to X-14
Standard Given a lack of options that don't hit the friendly guy (or set the entire place on fire) I'll just use Magic Missile on the minion to ensure he's popped. Deals 5 damage!

[WaffleLord]

Barases

Eager to be of some assistance, races beside Garithak, uproots the Standard, and readies himself to charge into battle along side his team.

[WaffleLord]

Malikar & Refugees

Bleeding profusely, Lynn tries to scramble away from the fiend that has him pinned. Grabbing his cudgel from his pack, he tries to beat the wilding off him...

MBA vs Lurker 3 AC - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]
Escape - [roll2] vs Lurker Fort...but finds the creatures too much for him.

Belman grabs the boy and ducks down behind the cart. Malikar steps protectively in front of Ilyana and prepares to strike anything that comes near her.
Malikar readies MBA against any fiend that comes within range of Ilyana

Rebekka collects her wits and recovers enough to charge towards the rest of her group.

Go, Batrazaar.

[Irish Musician]

Batrazaar (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=397093), Paladin of Kord

Batrazaar hears the screams from the farm, and he can do nothing but run to those who need him.

Actions
Move and & Standard to Move - to W13

[Surrealistik]

((Done after Emberlyn acts.))

As promised, the genasi follows closely behind Emberlyn. Pointing out the remaining foe, he instructs the mage to discharge her eldritch firepower in support of Malikar and the refugees.

"Take him down; Lynn's not going to last much longer against that madman."

Move: W13.

Standard: Direct the Strike on Emberlyn; she hits the Lurker for 9 force damage with Magic Missile

[Sierim]

When the brute falls to Grai's blow, Argius reaches out and grabs something unseen. As he does so, he hears the screams from the barn, followed by Garithak's curses. With an uneasy glance at his mordenkrad a few feet away, Argius sprints ahead of the group and through the barn door.

Passing the doors, he sees the creature atop Lynn. "Dosé moi!" he shouts, hopeful that his curse will draw the creature toward him. At the same time, he weaves invisible threads between his hands, searching for an advantage against these aberrations.

Double run: AA:13
Minor: Curse Lurker 3
Free: Knowledge skill check to be posted in OOC

[Ridai]

With everyone on the move, Grai sprints towards the new battlefield, leaping over the fence, angrily shouting "Come and get me, you bastards!" to attract whatever crazies are left.

Grai double runs to DD7.

Athletics check [roll0]

[WaffleLord]

The frenzied wilding, having pinned its prey, begins to feed.
Lurker Feeding vs Lynn AC - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

Lynn's screams turn to gurgles and finally fall silent. The lurker rears up, looking around with its gore smeared face, and, seeing warriors charging its location, bolts and bounces up the staircase.

Go Garithak and Emberlynn.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak grimaces, shaking his head as Lynn meets a gruesome end. When it is over, and the farmsteader lies eviscerated and bloodied upon the floor by the cart, he sneers at Malikar, genasi's scorn for the warrior's inaction evident.

"Advance, and secure the barn. Bar the door against the fields when we've our last man through and ready yourselves; I've no doubt we'll be seeing more of the bastards."

Move Action: Move to BB12.

Minor Action:
Inspire Lynn not to be dead/dying if possible.

Standard, Ready Action:
Direct the Strike when an enemy appears, and comes within melee range of any ally DtS can target.

[Paperscrap]

"Garithak! Barassus! Someone... help him!" The panic in Ember's voice resonated inside of the barn as the mage dashed inside - ever wary of what dangers may be lurking in the shadows.


*Moving to DD14
*Prepping Beguiling Strands to fire off on the first enemy that moves into range / ends its movement action adjacent to an ally. I'd prefer to push them towards our melees, in order to make things easier for them to catch them!

[WaffleLord]

Malikar and Refugees

Rebekka charges into the barn to find Lynn down and out. She stifles a cry and continues his work harnessing the horse. Belman lifts the boy and Ilyana into the cart, then goes to get himself a horse. The two children sit with eyes averted from Lynn's fallen form. Malikar moves to prepare his horse.

Go Batrazaar.

[Irish Musician]

Batrazaar (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=397093), Paladin of Kord

Batrazaar runs into the barn, and looks at the fallen villager, and lets our a might roar that borders on a scream. "Where did the vile thing that did this go? I will Rip it APART!!!"

Actions
Double Move - to GG13
Minor - In an attempt to get the enemies to attack him, Batrazzar is going to use Call of Challenge. It is a burst 3 from him (so DD13 to KK13 left-right & GG10 to GG16 top to bottom), and I would assume it would go above him as well, yes? So it would go 3 squares above him, into the next, level, assuming that the current floor is 8-10 feet high. That should hit any enemies that might be on the second level. And the burst up should cover 10 feet into the 2nd level. Does this work for you Waffle? IF not, then ignore this minor action and all he does is the double movement.

[WaffleLord]

Barases (tardy - moved with Argius)

Racing into the barn at the sounds of Lynn's screams, he sees the man lying twisted on the ground. Feeling bile rise in the back of his throat and his fur rise on the backs of his legs, he drops the banner in the barn entrance and moves quickly towards his horse.

[WaffleLord]

From the corn fields comes a scream more akin to a roar. An eladrin covered head to toe with tattoos and filth races towards the barn with his arms flailing madly. He lunges at the first person he can reach.

Retcon to Claw attack vs Argius AC (18+2) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1] Make it 18 total.

Hit from Emberlyn causing 6 damage and pushing him back 5 squares.

Strands of pure psychic energy spread forth from Emberlyn, slamming into the screaming fiend, not only stopping him but forcing him back. When the strands end, he shakes his head and renews his charge.

Warned by Garithak's hurried call, Argius spins with Mordenkrad in hand whistling a swing past the fiend. Grabbing the dwarf's weapon with both hands, the wilding fights through his defenses and bites the warlock, ripping a large piece out of his forearm. Blood splatters over the wilding's face and courses down the dwarf's arm.

Go, Argius.

[Surrealistik]

The moment Garithak spots the manic eladrin fall upon Argius, his lips part to bellow a hurried warning.

"Feral closing in on you dwarf! Hit it out of here!"

Direct the Strike
Target: Argius
Effect: Argius makes an MBA with a +1 item bonus to the attack roll.

Eldritch Strike
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Hit Effect: The target is slid 1 square.

[Sierim]

Argius grimaces at the wound. "You're no better a shield than she." He spits in frustration at his missed strike. "Dosé." Spectral hands spread out open palmed before him. "And receive your reward." With a lightning fast swing, he spins his mordenkrad underhanded at the eladrin.

The wound sears as he does so, however, and his second strike misses as well. His eyes burn with fury, and he plants his feet firmly in place, preparing for another strike.


Minor: Curse eladrin
Standard: Eldritch Strike
Attack: [roll0] vs AC
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] curse
Critical: [roll3]

If attack hits:
Slide eladrin to BB15 and move to DD13, reactivating Shadow Walk.
If attack misses:
Move replaced with Minor, Focused Disciple: Offense Stance.

[WaffleLord]

Barases - (on time)

Readying and mounting his horse, his panic seems to escalate rather than diminish. Finding his exit blocked and no one yet prepared to join him, he steadies his mind, steels himself for whatever may come, and waits to be of assistance.

Standard - Prepare horse
Move - Mount
AP - Ready an action to heal ally who becomes bloodied

[WaffleLord]

From the rippling sea of corn come two more scrawny, flailing bodies. It is surprising that they are able to move. The wounds that cover their bodies would be appear to be debilitating, yet they move with such life. They easily close the distance to visible, tasty meat and gleefully claw at exposed flesh.

Minion 7
Move and Charge vs Argius AC (18) - [roll0]
Critical FLOP!

Minion 8
Move and Charge vs Grai AC (20) - [roll1]
Damage - 8 and Grai is GRABBED (escape DC 16)
climb over fence and move.

The flimsy wilding stumbles upon approaching Argius and barely keeps its footing and it skids to a halt. The other scrawny fiend charges screaming at the half-orc. Bounding over the corral fence, it lands in front of Grai, menacing and wild in its ferocity.

Go, Grai!

[Ridai]

Noticing the new infected, Grai intercepts it with another howling swing, sending the hacked apart, disgustingly charred remains flying through the air, splattering against the outer walls and past the cart with the kids. Entering the building, she sees what is left of Lynn, seeing no infected directly next to the corpse and Malikar standing far away from the body. "Why the **** are you standing there!" she snarls furiously towards the minotaur, pupils small in predatory focus as she hurls herself towards the two infected at the other entrance.

Standard MBA against M8
[roll0] vs. AC
Hit: Death

Move to DD13

Free Cuss Malikar out

[WaffleLord]

Driven wild by the dragonborn's roar, the skulking wilding comes bounding down the stairs and launches itself at Batrazaar. Its partner also jumps down, but instead targets the young boy as its next meal. As it strikes at the child, it screams as a momentary glow causes it pain.

Luker 3 Pounce vs Batrazaar AC (25) - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

Lurker 4 takes 6 damage from Batrazaar's Divine Sanction.
Lurker 4 Pounce vs Boy AC (13) - [roll2]
Damage - [roll3]
GRABBED and PRONE, UNCONSCIOUS, BLOODIED
(just not well off)

Lynn begins to stir and groan. With great effort, he staggers unsteadily to his feet. As he lifts his head, you see that all humanity has drained from his face. His wild-eyes but blank stare confirms the worst. He throws his head back and screams wildly. With his bare hands, he throws himself at the nearby dragonborn.

Lynnion Claw vs Batrazaar AC (25) - [roll4]

Batrazaar barely notices the raving attacks but the young boy is badly hurt, screaming in agony as the fiend pins him and prepares to feed.

[WaffleLord]

Barases - readied action

Barases pours arcane energy the boy's way to aid him against the fiend's attack.
Boy heals a bit and is no longer unconscious, but another hit will kill him)

[Surrealistik]

Garithak's head pivots anxiously between both sides of the barn, wary for the maniac's reappearance. When it bounds toward the group with a partner, he spits a curse, teeth clenched with visible frustration. The sudden 'revival' of Lynn only compounds the veteran's ire.

"Enough is enough! I have had it with these mother****ing crazies in this mother****ing barn! Emberlyn get ready; we're about to blow em out of some ****ing doors."

His gaze then settles upon the nearby dwarf.

"Stand by to secure the entrance when she's done; we mustn't fight this battle on two fronts."

Then, jarring his attention towards the bespectacled refugee, he bellows a terse command:

"Belman, move away from that fiend! Take the girl with you, an' move behind us! Grai will sort him out."

Garithak will delay, waiting until Grai has gone, Belman has moved out of her way, and the girl has gotten off the cart.

[WaffleLord]

Refugees and Malikar

Nodding in agreement to the Genasi's commands, Belman leaves his horse and lifts Ilyana down from the cart. Placing her between himself and Malikar, he turns to face the fiend, a combination of terror and resolve on his face.

Rebekka leaves her horse to fall in beside Belman, drawing a hunter's knife from her side. The horse, spooking slightly at all the action around it, rears once and moves back.

Malikar hefts his spear, keeping his glance moving from one side to the other with intermittent glances at Ilyana. He seems ready to attack anything that comes near them.

Malikar readies an MBA against any fiend that moves in their direction.

Go Batrazzar and Emberlyn.

[Irish Musician]

Batrazaar (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=397093), Paladin of Kord

Batrazaar roars with such ferocity that even the horses get slightly nervous. He points his axe at the thing holding onto the boy, promising an attack. With that, he moves around the other two monsters that didn't hit him, leaving his mark on one of them, and unleashes an attack upon the one grabbing the boy, hoping to kill it so that he doesn't hurt him any longer.

Actions
Minor - Mark #3
Move - II13, Lynn and #3 gets a OA
Standard - Radiant smite vs AC on #4, [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

[Paperscrap]

Under lighter circumstances, Emberlyn may have said something regarding the warlord's colorful language around children. These were not lighter circumstances. Unable to do much in the barn for fear of exasperating the situation (and upsetting the local fire Marshall), the pyromancer instead punched the air in front of her, as if striking the brute from a distance with her fist. A rather silly gesture, to be sure. Or at least it would have been, had the apparition of a horrible and haggard wolf's head not materialized with the swishing of her baggy sleeves. Beady eyed and matted in fur, the fires of hell frothed forth from it's twisted jaws. With a wicked and discomforting snarl the creature's mouth opened wide to crush the brute's head between it's razor sharp teeth - only to disappear as soon as it impacted; dissipating as a blast of fierce wind that set the creature stumbling backwards. Unfortunately, she hadn't noticed the one before the dwarf until after her spell had already been committed; making it awkward and unsafe to attempt the same on the remaining 'creature'.


Standard Action: Beguiling Strands
Attack roll versus Minion # 7: [roll0] versus Will
Attack roll versus Brute # 4: [roll1] versus Will
Deals 5 damage on hit.

[WaffleLord]

As the dragonborn pushes his way past the fiends, each tries to take piece of his scaly hide.
Lynnion MBA vs Batrazzar AC(25) - [roll0]
Damage - 8 and GRABBED (escape DC 16)
Lurker MBA vs Batrazaar AC(25) - [roll1]
Damage - [roll2]

How do you want to play this, Celt? The grab would have stopped your move at GG13 (or HH12). Any way out of it?

[WaffleLord]

Being grabbed from behind enrages Batrazaar. He turns and swings his axe with deadly fluidity, lopping the head off of what was Lynn.

[WaffleLord]

Finding himself outside instead of where he was planing his feast drives the brute into a frenzy. He charges the witch who sent him realing. Barreling full bore towards Emberlyn leaves him open to attack as he speeds by Argius.

OA, Arguis?

[Sierim]

Argius swings for the brute's legs, unwilling to let another enemy past him. His mordenkrad slams into the creature, sending it rolling, crackling with black energy.


Opportunity Attack: Eldritch Strike vs Brute
Attack: [roll0] vs AC
Damage: [roll1]
Critical: [roll2]
Need a ruling here:
If the barn walls produce hard corners, I need to know whether the "direct route" of charging acknowledges or ignores blocking terrain. If blocking terrain is ignored, sliding the brute to Y12 will prevent any charges, as he cannot take a direct route to any targets (the barn walls block his direct route due to the hard corner). Otherwise, I'll send him to AA12

[WaffleLord]

Having lost his momentum, the brute scrambles to get close enough to threaten the one who did him harm.

Charge not completed.
Move action.

Go for real, Argius.

[WaffleLord]

Malikar (readied action)

As the fiend approaches, Malikar tries to impale the wilding on his great spear.
MBA vs brute AC - [roll0]
Damage - [roll1]

A glancing blow staggers the fiend, yet on it comes to menace Emberlyn.

[Sierim]

With the fiend disrupted in its attack but not fully stopped, Argius slides alongside its nearby ally. "Dosé de méinaté." Black hands rise from the ground and grip the creature by the legs, but vanish moments later, a dark promise of things to come.

He turns to the brute that contested his demands and breathes in slowly. "Abyssal-touched, be buried; be free." There is no anger in his voice, though perhaps a hint of mourning. With that, he raises his hammer and charges, the earth rising behind him as he moves.

His blow strikes with a sickening crunch of bones muted by its flesh and crackling eldritch energy. Argius tosses the beast behind him, waiting to see if it moves.

Minor: Curse Minion 7
Move: Shift to Z12
Standard: Charge BB14 (BotB prevents OA from Minion)
Eldritch Strike
Attack: [roll0] vs AC
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] 6 Curse + [roll3] Horned Helm, for a total of 35 damage.
Critical: [roll4]
Slide brute 4 to AA13.

Edited Curse damage. Argius does not have killing curse/vicious rod. Confused him with Zable when calculating damage. My bad. :smallannoyed:

[WaffleLord]

Confused by the shifting and sliding bodies, the wirey fiend shakes its head and rushes to a new foe, eager for a quick bite.

Claw vs Garithak AC (20) - [roll0]
Damage - 8 damage and GRABBED (escape DC 16)

Garithak feels cold claws rake his body and seize him in their clammy grip.

Go Grai and Garithak.

[Surrealistik]

Garithak reels at the force of the thing's slashing claws, blood dribbling from where its nails gouge thin swaths in the genasi' chainmail, the crazed fiend's inhuman strength nakedly evident whilst it snaps and flails about like a thing possessed. The clench of Garry's teeth draws tighter still, locked somewhere between pain and exasperation, yielding shallow dimples that crease the folds of his ruddy cheeks. Turning to Grai, he parts his bound jaw to reassure her.

"Go on and save the kid. Don't worry about me; this weed'll be dead long before you're finished."

[Ridai]

Grai's head snaps around, turning towards her captain, immeasurable fury boiling even hotter as she wanted to crush the wretch daring to attack him. However, even in her berserk state, Garithak's words reach her clearly, a feat no other commander she served under managed to do. Immediately, Grai launches herself towards the cart with one big leap, ending up slamming down on top of it, her feet landing beside the prone boy, as she swings at the infected in front of her, direly defending the little cub.

Standard Charge L4, moving to HH14 (no OA provoked due to BotB)
[roll0] vs. AC
Hit: [roll1] lightning damage (enhanced by Power Strike) and L4 is slid to JJ13.

Brutally catching the infected in the side, Grai hammers it away from the cart and the boy with booming explosion of thunder as her weapon connects, blood splattering everywhere. Instinctively, she watches for a cue from her captain, ready to hammer the other crazy away as well, fiercely standing her ground above the prone boy.

[Surrealistik]

Torn between minding the slavering fiend grappling at his armour and Grai moving into position, Garithak's unenviable struggle is consoled by the half-orc's successful intervention. In spite of himself, the grizzled veteran manages a short lived grin as she drives off one of the crazies in a spectacular riot of thunder and lightning. Biceps straining against his assailant's manic strength, a visceral combination of rage and adrenaline provides him the might to shove off his grasping foe. Leaping backwards, he then turns about, now giving the rear front his full attention.

"That's my girl. Now let's make it a double!"

Move: Escape, Athletics: [roll0] vs DC 16
Shift to CC13.

Standard: DtS on Grai vs Lurker 3.
Attack: [roll1] vs AC (+1 item bonus due to Chieftan's)
Damage: [roll2]
Slide to II12.

Minor: Retrieve Banner from floor.