After the Dovahkiin

After the Dovahkiin
The 5 wanderers are finally pushed out of the Frostfruit Inn by Mralki, who commented his son should've done it rather than spending the evening drinking and trading adventuring tales with their rowdy patrons.
It's a chilly night, but the skies are clear and moons bright, making for a pleasant atmosphere. This atmosphere is somewhat disturbed by the sudden furious screeching of animals, and absolutely ruined when the on-duty guard's unsuspecting head is skewered on a Forsworn's arrow.

A battle-cry comes from the direction of the Reach, and 8 Forsworn sprint from hiding towards Rorikstead's populace.

Spoiler: OOC

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1) This is how I do OOC bits, hi.
2) If you announce intention to engage in combat, I'll post a link to a Roll20 game with the combat on it.
3) I'm trying to keep the description in present tense, for a change if nothing else, but don't feel obliged to if you'd rather not.

Spoiler: Roll vs Bad Temper

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Bad Temper: [roll0] vs 12

Despite being surly about getting tossed out of the inn, Harmin manages to keep his head about him when he sees the Forsworn running toward the village. Though he wouldn't entirely mind seeing the inn burn down (Throw me out in the cold, will you?), he is itching for a fight.

Spoiler: Roll vs Overconfidence

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Overconfidence: [roll]3d6[/roll] vs 12
I've never quite figured out when you can and can't edit posts that have rolls in them, so roll is here
11 beats my self-control of 12, so no suicidal charge this time :)

Drawing his shield and axe, Harmin turns to Riahine and says "Betcha 5 gold I can kill more of these idiots", and begins advancing towards the Forsaken foes.

Eight!?! Eight of these mountain madmen!?! Riahine was in no way ready for this. First she got shoved out of a nice, warm inn, and now there was a ravening horde bearing down on her and her companions. It really wasn't how she had envisioned the night going.

"Betcha 5 gold I can kill more of these idiots"

"Hah, and I'll see you 5 I can land more spells." That kind of bet was an old habit between her and Harmin, and one that she never took him up on seriously. Killing wasn't really her thing, while for Harmin, it seemed like second nature. She could no more best him at battle than he could defeat her in a spell contest. They had long lost track of how much the other owed in these silly little gambles.

Riahine curls her hands and begins spitting foul words in a menacing tone. "Maybe this'll teach you some manners," she says, releasing the energy.

Spoiler: Roll

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Casting Panic:: [roll0] vs 9

The small Bosmer woman has spent the entire evening sitting in a corner, alone, responding to any attempts at social contact with disinterested grunts or, at most, one or two word answers to various questions. She very obviously just wants to be left alone.

Occasionally she'll twitch or glance up at something, but there never seems to actually be anything there.

As the five are ushered out of the inn, she does her best to avoid actually coming into contact with anybody - but it's pretty hard, with the rush of five people trying to leave at once. As soon as she's out in the open air, she moves just a little bit too quickly to get away from the other four - putting at least two yards between herself and the others.

As she hears the war cry go up, she responds by... moving in the opposite direction, whispering something to herself and twitching her hands in obvious spell-casting gestures as she goes.

Spoiler: Actions

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Moving in the opposite direction of the charging Reachmen while casting Invisiblity (3 second casting time, 5 FP cost). Specifically, she's going to try to get at least 20 yards between herself and anyone else to hopefully avoid distracting thoughts while spellcasting.

[roll0] vs. 12 (-1 for being within 20 yards of sapients; -2 if she's within 20 yards of 10 or more)

Edit: Possible success!

While being forced from the inn, the wall of Orc flesh managed to drop a large sack of septims On the floor near the door, he figures he's caring too much and they did allow all these rough and tumble types drink for entirely to long. He shoulders a rough spun thread bear cloak and allows the others to exit first...it tends to take a bit of work for him to exit man dwellings.

Then he heard them, a war party of some sort attacking the town and the meaty thump of the guards body hitting the rocky ground. He felt his blood beginning to boil. As he cleared the porch and stairs he roared a challenge to the men in fur armor. He stood to his full height. "YOU ARE ALL GOING TO DIE TONIGHT MAN SCUM!!! YOU ARE GOING TO BE MY WODE OFFERING TO MAULOCH AND THE GIFT TO MY ANCESTORS!!"Drawing his axes and readying himself to throw them as soon as someone entered his range.

Spoiler: Rolls

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I don't know if singing can be used this way...buuuut death metal roar......:smallbiggrin:
Singing
[roll0] vs 13

Quick Draw
[roll1] vs 12
Quick Draw
[roll2] vs 12

"You can't just go around making bets without Khajiit being in on game!" The Cat man shouts as he rushes towards the group of brigians, looking for paths of attack that would take advantage of his more athletic abilities. He's always been a bit more of the reckless once out there, living on the edge of a knife.

The tribesman howl with delight upon seeing prey and charge towards the party, screaming wildly! Shouts can be heard from inside the inn, notably; Erik's father calling for him.

Spoiler: OOC

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Roll20 map! I apologise for a lack of clarification before, please repeat any actions carried out here on Roll20, you can keep the rolls you had or reroll them, keep Campaigns facing rules in mind on later turns, but assume you're facing in the direction you intend to move now.

I've left the characters mostly blank and fully editable (also I'll apologise now for my ineptitude in finding good tokens) so that you can make macros/enter character details as you see fit (also, please adjust your own FP for spells, it'd just help me speed up the process of moving all the Forsworn).

If you're making attacks that require enemy reaction, just state the attack and what (if anything) you intend to do afterwards. Because this isn't exactly fair, I'll give your characters the benefit of the doubt on any ambiguous/unforeseeable situations. Equally, if you'd rather wait to see how they react, say so and I won't carry the combat past your action.

Just make it clear if there's anything that you need me to do on it.

Nino wasn't going to meet eight fully heathy guys with axes and nord stench, even if he was currently running at them. Instead he goes to draw two throwing knives, one with each hand, and hurt them at the first two forsworn.

Spoiler: Rolls

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I'm not entirely sure rolls here.. But
Acrobatics to get higher ground while moving from previous turn 12 vs [roll0]
Fast-draw (Knife) 13 vs [roll1]
Throwing (knife) 13 vs [roll2]

After a surprisingly quick battle thanks to guards' volley fire, said guards drag the bodies to the barracks for later disposal. Rorik walks up to the group and thanks them, saying that they will always be welcome in Rorikstead, and its inhabitants are indebted to them.

Erik, 'The Slayer', as he called himself at the inn, is the innkeeper's son and a recently turned adventurer, thanks to an armoured traveller who bought him combat gear a few months ago. Equipped with this sturdy leather armour and a greatsword of Elven make, he's been doing a bit of mercenary work here and there, mainly to help clear out bandits and the like. Despite the availability of this sort of work, he wants to be more than a sword-for-hire; a hero.

It's with this in mind that he approaches the party, with a proposition, "Fine work my friends! Your prowess in battle is rarely matched by those travelling to these parts! For a while now, I have been saving my pay to start up a guild of sorts, an Adventurers' Guild. This guild would contain heroic wizards and warriors who would set out to defeat great beasts, retrieve legendary artifacts, and become legend themselves. The trouble is, there aren't a great many heroes around here, but you defeated those bandits with incredible skill and coordination. I'd like you to be the first members of the Guild, and help make a name for us. What do you say?"

Harmin Alkvir

Harmin carefully cleans off his ax before returning it to his side. He takes the time to make sure the head is spotless before looking up at Erik.

"An Adventurer's Guild, eh? Hmm... I suppose I like the sound of that, as long as the coin is good. You have any jobs in mind, or are you expecting us to join up on good will?"

Riahine considers the proposal. "I can't say I'm one for being tied down usually, but getting some cover from a guild might help avoid a few complications that always seem to arise. I'll join up for now at least."

"Ah well, It wasn't anything all that great. Most things die when you stab them. The trick is not to get stabbed back."

Erik nods smiling at Nino, "Ha, so modest, you make it sound easy when you put it like that! Now, to be clear, I don't have any jobs for you currently, they're hard to come by in Rorikstead; my thinking was it would be mutually beneficial for us if you referenced your membership to the guild during any heroic victories you manage to pull off. That way, you make a name for us, and that name brings in the work. You like that idea?"

"I'll spread word of our heroics in every tavern and town square I can find. We'll have no shortage of fearful folk clamoring for our help," says Riahine.

"I thank you! I need to go now, but I'll see you around. If you don't know where to find work check around the cities, Whiterun's only a few hours East."

Erik walks off to the inn, while a few villagers crowd him and give him their thanks for his role in the battle.