3SC's Ironfang Invasion IC

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin

Narek tried to ignore the images of his companions lying dead around the camp. Instead he focused on another spell and cast it ... with only a small concern that the hobgoblins had discovered some way to resist his magicks. With a calming breath he let fly two orbs of force. Then he stepped up into the mist

Spoiler: OOC

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Casting magic missile, go for the archer that’s most injured and split as/if necessary. Apparently I only had one glitterdust.
MM - (2d4+2)[5]

Spoiler: Status

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AC: 13. HP: 19 Init +10 Move 30'
F +1 R +3 W +6
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/16 bolts
Spells (4/4+1/3+1): dancing lights, ghost sound, message, mage hand / silent image, obscuring mist, enlarge person, magic missile, heightened awareness / invisibility, invisibility, glitterdust, gallant inspiration
Prescience: 7/7; Good Dreams 1/1; wand of magic missile (24); wand of prestidigitation (23); wand of cause fear (10); wand of hold person (10)
Key skills: Perception +4; Stealth +2; Survival +3; Spellcraft +11; S. Motive +6; KS Arcane +11; KS Local +10; KS P/Na/D/R +9; KS H/E/G +8
Effect: prestidigitation (1hr); heightened awareness (+2 Perception, Trained KS; 39min); obscuring mist (34 rounds); enlarge person (Rask, 38 rounds)

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

Ilsa gaped as Rask dealt the final blow and Scarvinious fell.

Did... did Rask just TALK?

Then she caught up with the fact that Scarvinious had fallen, and she pumped her fist in the air.

"Woohoo!"

In the meantime, the eagles continued to claw and peck at the remaining hobgoblins.

Spoiler: Actions

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The first two eagles flank and claw at the first hob.

Attack: 24
Damage: 4

Attack: 19
Damage: 4

Then, the third eagle that was by Scarvinious flies over to the lone archer and claws at it.
Attack: 4

That's an automatic miss, so I'm not bothering to roll damage.

[3SecondCultist]

Rask's short utterance is punctuated by a second, even deadlier swing of the hammer. This time the bugbear can't quite get out of the way in time to avoid having his head caved in by the end of the earth breaker. A splatter of dark blood erupts over the grassy dirt at your feet. Scarvinious is still twitching - the sheer amount of punishment he's taken up to this point is enough to suspect he may still be alive - but he's not getting up from that anytime soon. The silence around each of you lasts for perhaps a second, but enough to register that you did in fact hear the half-orc's actual voice.

Not wanting to waste any time, both Eyena and Ilsa spring into action. Snow erupts from the magus' hands in a deadly spray, coating all four of the gathered Ironfang soldiers with deadly cold. It's just enough to blind them for a coordinated strike from the eagles! Gilraen and Narek get in on the action too, firing off both mundane and magical projectiles to wound their foes. When all is said and done, only two of the enemy soldiers remain standing; both look like they're hanging by a thread. Desperate, they look back to the last leader they have on the field.

Yissti, for her part, seems unconcerned at the prospect of taking on the Shepherds. Whether she's that skilled or simply too arrogant to notice the body of her superior officer on the ground remains to be seen. "<Come on, you louts! You can't walk off a little cold? Let me show you what distilled winter really looks like, hm?>" Dropping her bow for now, the alchemist steps into the enclosure offered by the magical light. Reaching for her belt, Yissti produces a smoky orb and lobs it into the air, cracking Eyena's chest. The cold expands rapidly upon exposure to the air, spreading all over the spellsword and creeping into Rask's injuries. The half-orc tumbles to the ground in a thunderous crash, less than a foot away from Scarvinious.

Spoiler: Gilraen

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As you head down the steps, you notice a small shadow stealing from the treeline to the north and rushing right into Narek's fog. Although you don't get a good look at the figure, you catch a glimpse of feral eyes, a slight profile, and the gleaming of bared steel under the moon before they're gone from sight.

Spoiler: Round 7 OOC

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Updated Map

Well there's good news and there's bad news. The good news is that Rask's fateful strike did Scarvinious in, and the bugbear is down! That leaves only the dregs and Yissti... or so most of you believe. The bad news is that the soldiers are gutting the eagles and the alchemist hit Eyena for 15 cold damage with her bomb. Rask took 2 splash damage as well, putting him officially at -1 and dying.

[PersonMan]

Eyena grits her teeth, eyes going between the bomb's origin and Rask for a moment before she retreats, putting a tent between her and the hobgoblin alchemist.

Spoiler: Round 07 OOC

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Move behind cover and use CLW on self. Unfortunately, it's already been used on Rask today, and it'd take too long to try and feed him a potion.

CLW: (1d8+4)[12]

[Farmerbink]

Resorting to his native tongue for an attempt at secrecy, Gilraen calls a quick warning to the group's mage: "Narek, they're on to you! Join me on the stairs- quickly!" Not wanting to be left fighting an uphill battle, he returns to the ledge beside Ilsa. On solid ground, he casts aside his bow for the staff, and utters a blessing.

Spoiler: Gilraen, round 7

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Gilraen Súrion
M CG Elf Oracle (warsighted), Level 4, Init 5, HP 11/25, Speed 40
AC 17, Touch 13, Flat-footed 14, CMD 18, Fort 3, Ref 4, Will 3, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 3
PBS MW composite long bow (36 arrows) +9 (1d8+2, x3 )
Quarterstaff +6 (1d6+3, x2)
Shillelagh Qstaff +7 (2d6+4, x2)
MW Chain shirt (+4 Armor, +3 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 17, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 14
Condition Charisma to saves vs enchantment
Chernasardo Hopeful: reduce concealment as a move action
-1x +1 frost arrows
Spells, 1st level: 6/7 remaining
2nd level: 3/4 remaining
Martial Flexibility: 4/5
Bless: (?? remaining, +1 attack, saves vs fear)
MF: precise shot (7 rounds remaining)

drop bow
Move as noted, drawing staff.
cast shillelagh

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin

At Gilraen’s warning, Narek made a torrent of hisses rise through the mists with his cantrip, using the sound to cover his movements. Then he made his way up the ladder as quickly as he could. Once there he could reassess his situation.

Spoiler: OOC

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Use ghost sound to cover repositioning

Spoiler: Status

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AC: 13. HP: 19 Init +10 Move 30'
F +1 R +3 W +6
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/16 bolts
Spells (4/4+1/3+1): dancing lights, ghost sound, message, mage hand / silent image, obscuring mist, enlarge person, magic missile, heightened awareness / invisibility, invisibility, glitterdust, gallant inspiration
Prescience: 7/7; Good Dreams 1/1; wand of magic missile (24); wand of prestidigitation (23); wand of cause fear (10); wand of hold person (10)
Key skills: Perception +4; Stealth +2; Survival +3; Spellcraft +11; S. Motive +6; KS Arcane +11; KS Local +10; KS P/Na/D/R +9; KS H/E/G +8
Effect: prestidigitation (1hr); heightened awareness (+2 Perception, Trained KS; 39min); obscuring mist (33 rounds); enlarge person (Rask, 37 rounds)

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

As the alchemist opened fire with her bombs, Ilsa frowned.

<"Your leader is dead! Give up already!">

Extending her hand, she shot a bolt of magic toward the ground where Yissti was standing, and an extradimensional hole opened beneath the bomber.

Spoiler: Actions

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Ilsa casts Create Pit in the area outlined by purple. Yissti must make a DC 16 Reflex save or fall into the 20 foot hole.

Meanwhile, the sole remaining eagle claws away at the hob next to it.

Attacks 1, 2, and 3: 15, 19, and 13
Damages 1, 2, and 3: 6, 6, and 3.

[3SecondCultist]

Fort Phaendar, Three Weeks Ago

The construction is already underway. According to standard Legion doctrine, the first priorities have been containment and fortification. All of the survivors from the raid on Phaendar have already been split up and placed into labor crews, most of them guarded by skeleton crews of soldiers. It won't matter now - the hobgoblins in the village now number in the hundreds, many of whom have already been put to work creating earthworks and felling trees to build palisades between the remaining buildings. Even if any of the slaves manage to escape their bonds, it would be impossible for them to escape over the plains, and with the main bridge over the Marideth having been detonated, there is no way for them to escape into the Fangwood.

Well, the Sergeant thinks to himself, I suppose now there's a new way across.

Following the after-action report that Scabvistin had to give to the higher-ups, the old bugbear has been in an exceptionally foul mood. The escaped fugitives aren't just a mark on an otherwise flawless operation: they are a symbol of hope to those that are still in chains. As long as there is a possibility of them being out there, the slaves will continue to fight back the way they have so far. No, Lieutenant Scabvistin will need a real win. So the Sergeant is hardly shocked to hear that his father has called for him now, two days after the Ironfang Legion's first real advance into Nirmathas.

As he walks to the center of Fort Phaendar, the Sergeant can't help but stare at the monstrous onyx tower that dominates the center of what used to be the town green. The whole thing is downright unnatural, but he's not exactly in a position to complain about it. After all, without whatever its magic is, they wouldn't have much of an advantage. It is there that he finds the new commander of the fort, along with his new retinue of guards. Just as expected, Scabvistin has nothing but contemptful glares for his son. Not too far away, the Sergeant spots the shadow of another hobgoblin in dark leathers, one that he has recognized from his father's war councils but never bothered to examine further: Taurgreth. The smaller officer hangs back, seemingly content to watch the show.

It comes as some surprise, then, when Scabvistin does not strike him. Instead, the lieutenant turns to one of his guards and - in a single fluid motion - draws a knife from his belt and cuts off the soldier's jaw at the mouth. It tumbles to the soft spring earth before the guard has even registered what has happened. Dark blood weeps from the wound, spilling all down his front as his eyes grow wide. Before the hobgoblin can succumb to the damage, Scabvistin steps closer. Once, twice, three times, the same knife is thrust up into the gaping roof of the mouth. The old brute twists the blade one last time, and the Sergeant hears a wet crunch before the soldier's body goes completely slack.

The Sergeant stands and waits. One does not disobey a superior officer - even should his fate be the same as the trooper in front of him. But nevertheless, when Lieutenant Scabvistin puts away his dagger, he lets out a breath he didn't realize he has been holding. "They blew up the bridge, but our construction crews have built a replacement." The lieutenant's growl has not improved with age; if anything, he sounds more like a wild animal now than he ever has. "I want them found, sergeant. We have descriptions of the leaders from the heavy trooper on the bridge. They can't be much more than twenty in all, and most of them are untrained civilians. Get your hunters ready. Bring their leaders back alive if you can. If not, you have full operational discretion to end them. Use whatever means necessary. Do you understand?"

The Sergeant pauses, before falling to one knee. This is not customary in the Legion, and for a moment he sees Scabvistin's features twist into a frown... until he sees what his son is really doing. In one hand, the Sergeant grasps the red jaw of the unfortunate guard and holds it up between them. His fangs are bared into a deadly smile. "I will not fail you, sir."

---

Camp Red Jaw, Present Day

Gilraen and Eyena spring into action more or less at the same time, both of them moving away from the short-lived melee. The elf strides right back up the stairs he just descended, his bow gone as he moves into the mists. While he doesn't see anything in the miasma, there is the faintest sound of footsteps somewhere vaguely north of his position. Of course, that's before Narek releases his spell and fills the air with the sound of a hundred angry snakes. The display permeates through the fog spell, roiling in the thick air before spinning itself out of existence as the samsaran wizard frantically climbs the ladder and out of reach of... whatever it is that's approached him.

Down in the camp courtyard, Eyena manages to find cover behind Scarvinious' tent. Ducking out of sight, she is able to apply her healing magic and see to the most grievous of her wounds. Even as the magic closes, the magus is able to take stock of her surroundings. It's impossible for her not to notice the thick texture of the bugbear's demesne, nor the stitches and scars that are the hallmarks of humanoid skin stretched all over its frame. There is easily thirty square feet of material here, enough for dozens of victims.

"Look at the little mouse! Afraid of catching cold?" Yissti is already reaching for her belt in order to grab another bomb, preparing to step forward through the bodies in order to throw her next payload up at where Ilsa and Gilraen stand. Several feet away, the last of the eagles tears through the throat of one Ironfang soldier only to explode in a shower of gore and feathers from the final exhausted archer. "I don't think I'll be surrendering just ye - " Except the grenadier doesn't finish her sentence, because she is already falling, falling, falling out of sight.

Spoiler: Round 8 OOC

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Updated Map

There is only one hobgoblin archer left on the field, and Yissti is in a hole! They're not quite surrendering yet... although you have managed to forestall Yissti's attack for now, there is still the matter of the mysterious attacker in the fog. No damage to report for this round though, which is probably for the best.

[n0ble]

Rask smiled. Said all he'd needed to. Things seemed well in hand. He let go of standing up and let himself fall-crash-into the ground. And another memory.

Spoiler: Then

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He woke up amidst greenery. A strange sort of squealing had woken him but Rask didn’t mind it. He was hungry and the squeal promised snared food for his stomach.

It had been a hard three winters that had laid siege to Rask’s cabin. After the third thawing he’d left the cabin and all the discontentment the trio of corpses had brought him behind, taking only his chopper, knives and whatever rations he could carry with him. The wet season had begun, but all told it suited Rask fine. Lying awake half buried in snow three times over had gone a long ways towards appreciating a bit of greenery. And yet, the farther he got away from the cabin the more Rask was glad for the rainy bits, peals of thunder be damed. It meant a clear smell in the air afterwards and, after a fashion, he’d come to enjoy the solitude that let him hear his boots squelch in the mud. His hide had grown leathery with the three years, stretched taught to accommodate his frame. It’d done a good job of keeping bug bites away, but Rask hadn’t paid the few he had any mind. It wasn’t really bloodshed.

He’d certainly not thought of returning to the cabin. No amount of piddling manling rain or snow or Sezlrian-scorched desert made Rask want to return there. By the time he’d been of the mind to bury them the ground had frozen over into the first of what proved to be a very long winter. Rask shook his mind from remembering and focused on all the life around him. The food in the cabin had proved to be more than enough to thrive on, and when that had failed out during the second winter’s end Rask had taken to hunting. He’d never thought to stray far from the cabin. Couldve been that somone would have gotten the idea of taking it. At the time Rask had thought it his and that meant he wasn’t going to let it go, not to wolves or snakes or the odd bandit that had blundered into the sharp edge of his chopper. But in the end he’d retreated from the cabin and took nothing but food, what was his and a few books in a speech he couldn’t understand. Rask was optimistic. It seemed appropriate to carry their words along, even if it did nothing to absolve him of guilt.

Rask looked about as he got from his tree and relaxed into a lazy stretch. Another squeal resounded out against the trees. It didn’t sound like any of the meats his snares caught. Maybe it was some kind of marmot or suitably strange beastie. Rask gave his shoulders a good roll and shouldered his chopper, scabbard and all. Then he took out a nice full flash of water and helped himself to a drink. All the hooch from the cabin had been drank away. Rask had kept clear of people, so it certainly hadn’t been bartered for anything. He set off in the direction of his nearest trap, feebly trying to reckon at what sort of varmint would make such a high pitched shriek. Rask had known some ornery goblin dogs during his times in the Homeland, but there weren’t any snarling to go along with the yowling. He’d caught a strange gemstone-crowned lizard once. One thump on the bejewelled head later and Rask had found it tasted fizzy, if a bit gamey. Still, freakish gemstone or no the lizard-thing hadn’t made a sound when he’d discovered it.

As he got closer to the snare, Rask heard other voices. That gave him pause. Rask stopped in his tracks. He stomach didn’t feel much like sharing, but given the number of voices coming from the clearing there didn’t seem to be much choice. It certainly beat the other option. That meant the two hander came out of the scabbard, but not entirely. Didn’t want to give off the wrong idea. Didn’t want to be caught with his blade in the scabbard either. Belatedly, Rask connected the squealing with a child’s voice. He let out a sigh. Just what he needed, some dumb manling child wandering mucking up his traps. Rask went forward towards the voices and raised the hand that wasn’t on the zweihander up, palm facing forward. Dumb, but nesscessary. Even if one of the five voices was a squealing manling child he didn’t like his odds at four humans to one half or-

There were two humans in the clearing and, true to Rask’s ears the one doing most of the squealing was a little manling girl. Rask hadn’t counted on the other three voices belonging to an elf, a dwarf and, Rull strike him down, another half-orc, which meant that between the six of there was one hole orc in the clearing by Rask’s counting. He would of thought it stranger, were his thoughts not preoccupied with the fact that he was eye to with the half-orc. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing to see one of his own as an equal. Rask looked past the orc to where the woman was kneeling on the ground. The elf’s spear was resting on her shoulder. The dwarf had a fistful of the child-a girl’s-hair, and had her raised to his own eye level. Rask squinted at the dwarf. He didn’t like the short ones on good days. Their armor was always a right pain in the arse to chop through and they used mallets and hammers as weapons in war, which was ****ing ridiculous. Way less bloody. As was it looked like all the dwarf had at his belt was a mace. And all that was without accounting for the covetous look the undercommoner had in his gaze for the girl. Something about it brought back screams and the smell of burning homes. He squinted a bit harder, just so the dwarf knew how things was between them, then re-levelled his gaze at what all the real fuss was about: the kneeling woman had a sack next to her that was overflowing with fruits. Granted, it was somewhat spoiled by the fact that he couldn’t look at the bag without taking in the woman’s distress. Or the elf. Damn tricksy bastards never wanted to fight fair with their whimsy little blades and their ****ty arrows. Rask hated arrows almost as much as he disliked dwarves. The comparison had barely crossed his mind by the time he resumed looking at the orc.

Rask had seen bigger, though that may just have been because of the perspective his stature gave him. Judging from the way the half-orc was eyeing Rask’s zweihander he hadn’t see much larger of anything. A forest orc. Half-orc. He spoke to Rask with a common accent <”Good-uh good morn to you> er <…brother?>” he slipped into some kind of bastardization of common and orcish that hurt Rask’s ear more than that the a goblin dog’s screeching. It was accompanied by a few aggressive gesture from the half-orc: he jabbed at the sack of fruit with his blackjack, then at the girl then at the woman, then all about the clearing in wide sweeping gesture that confused and irritated Rask all at once. He wasn’t here for talk. <…I’m thinkin’ a four way splits not too bad…eheheh?> He punctuated the words by saying something to the dwarf and elf. While the dwarf remained silent and fixated on his prize, the elf tittered something out in wry tone that grated with Rask. He looked past the half-orc for the second time, at the woman kneeling in the grass. Rask pointed at the woman with his free hand and made his face look mean.

<Her.>

The weakling stepped out of the way, complete with a bow that Rask might’ve found mocking had he not been overtaken by a new sort of hunger. The dwarf growled something out but Rask growled, bared his teeth and flared his nostrils, then focused on what was in front of him. The dwarf would have to wait his turn. The woman’s worry looked much the same up close as it had from afar, though at this distance Rask made out a small scar that hooked across her left cheek. Rask let his sword drop from where it was resting. It set off a new series of screams from the child, who supplemented her bawling with a few weak drummings on the dwarf’s head. He might have found it amusing were he not about to commit to a thing that, by his reckoning, no manling child was prepared to witness. The half-orc chittered out something to his friends, which further curdled the frown on the dwarf’s face. The elf sneered and somehow Rask found it worse. <Know what I told em? Eh? I told em now we get to see what a real Belkzener can doahaha.> Rask grasped the handle of his sword all the tighter in the face of the laughter, but not out of fear or any sense of apprehension. His left eye twitched a little.

All that way and travel just to wind up stuck in another ****ing cabin. That clinched it. It wasn’t the smart thing to do. The elf was more dangerous. But **** if he didn’t want to shut the half-orc up.

Rask jerked his sword-holding arm up, scabbard and all, in a taut yet swift motion. At the apex of his swing, the scabbard slipped from the blade and spun through the air past the half-orc’s head. <Woahoahoa watch it there big m-> ****. Too late. The elf’s spear went from resting on the woman’s shoulder to surging toward’s Rask’s guts. Rask roared and stepped forward into the elf’s guard, taking the spear in the meat of his side. Rask brought the elbow of his free arm down onto the spear’s haft and snapped it, using the motion of the strike to weigh himself downward and put his sword arm up higher. As he stepped to meet the elf, he brought his sword down at a diagonal. The elf’s eyes and feet were fast. Almost as fast as his mind. He saw the blade coming down and moved to step out of the killing range. It would have worked, but Rask had a dam long sword. The zweihander caught the elf right where his neck and shoulder met. Bad. He’d not meant to chop him so deep and was paying for it. Getting the blade out while the woman was between him and the corpse would be a trick proposi-

The half-orc’s bellowing alerted him to being out of time <You Mother ****ER! I’ll gut you, I’ll-> Rask roared at the woman and shoved her out of the way as he put boot to elf and tore his chopper free from the torso. He fell back, surprised by his own strength, and used the fall to lash out at the half-orc with a drunken backswing. He aimed low. Odds were with his luck he’d part the half-orc from his fruits. Odds were equally good he’d not survive a broken off spear in his gut. At least he could spare the woman and her daughter a bit more misery. As the luck would have, his backswing went lower than than he’d aimed, parting the half-orc’s left leg at the knee. Both he and Rask went down onto their arses. Rask braced himself against his sword, suddenly weak with bloodloss. He made to right himself, whether to deal with the dwarf or finish off the weakling. The woman decided for him, moving with in a way that Rask could not quite describe with words. Later he would find the word to be graceful. It did nothing to dispel the savagery with which she ground the broken spear haft into the half-orc’s midsection, spouting what Rask only assumed was profanity all the while.

He turned to the dwarf. For such a supposedly smart race he’d certainly gone and ****ed his situation up. The dwarf had not thought to draw a weapon, and true to the fire she’d shown earlier the child was being as hard as she humanly could on his efforts to draw his mace now. All races had teeth. Rask took a dagger from his belt slowly, then more slowly as the dwarf noticed. He withdrew it between his thumb and forefinger, so the dwarf could see it. He was just about to hurl it into the dwarf’s eye socket when the woman began chanting in earnest. Rask whirled around and witnessed a sight he’d never thought to lay eyes on again: the woman was clawing at the scar-flesh on her cheek, pulling all the viscera on her face down so that her eye bulged from it’s socket. Rask had seen Shogglick do it before. The woman had the Evil-Eye. Rask turned back to the dwarf, strangley comforted to know such hextheurgy was at his back. He knew what came next. As the woman’s chanting reached it’s apex, the dwarf’s rumbling’s became slurred and he swayed for a moment before his movements slowed. Rask let fly with his dagger and watched the dwarf totter for a moment more before the instinct that was leftover parted from him and he toppled to the forest floor.

The child wriggled free just as the blackness subsumed most Rask’s vision. He collapsed onto his back and looked over as the mother and child embraced. The mother spared him a glance that Rask knew all too well. He returned it to her, then watched as she gathered his satchel of fruit. The girl hadn’t stopped looking at him. She garbled something out to her mother, who answered in a calm, level tone. The girl repeated herself, but louder, then punctuated the gesture with a stomp of her foot. Maybe it was all the blood he was losing but Rask could’ve sworn she was crying. Made sense. Scary situation, fighting rapists. Obliquely, Rask’s mind registered a defeated tone at the periphery of his senses, then more arcane speakings. Seconds passed by. Rask looked up at the canopy, not entirely sure whether he was comfortable dying. It was an odd train of thought to feel so calm about. Then the woman, scarred face and all, loomed into the field of his vision. <Hey. Hey big man can you hear me? What’s your name? Hey. HEY!> She snapped her fingers in his face and a bit more blackness crept into his view. Her hand left his sight. <I need to put pressure on your wound. Khora!> She looked away from Rask and gestured at the sack of fruit, then turned back to look at him. <Bring me the red one and yellow one. Hey, listen. Listen. Shh. Shh, it’s ok. I need to put pressure on your wound. It’s going to hurt, but you’ll be ok. Do you understand, you’ll be o-> S Rask didn’t hear the rest of what she was staying. Any wonder he’d felt at understanding her so well was lost amidst the new pain of his spear wound. Then the darkness took him.

[PersonMan]

Eyena first peeks out from behind the tent, then rushes towards where she'd been before, dropping into a slide as she reaches Rask's side, tugging a potion bottle out into one hand as she stays close to the ground.

Spoiler: Round 08 Actions

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Move over to Rask, pull out potion, drop prone.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

It was time to mop everything up.

Rushing down the stairs, Ilsa summoned more of her magic, bringing forth another elemental from beyond the pale, this time one of earth. Upon its arrival, the elemental charged at the remaining archer, swinging its fist down.

Spoiler: Actions

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Ilsa moves and uses her Summon Monster SLA to bring forth a Small Earth Elemental. It charges the archer.

Attack: 29
Crit Confirm: 18
Damage: 10
Crit Damage: ​12

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin

From the top of the tower, Narek considered the fog below and the potential assassin hiding in those mists. In the main camp, most of the enemy had been dealt with - an archer still stood, but an elemental appeared to harass him. The Alchemist had fallen for Ilsa’s trick with the pit, and was a non-factor for now. The question was, how could he help now?

Glancing down at where Gilraen his, he wondered if the assassin was approaching the archer ... and if the mists had outlived their purpose. Via the spell, he whispered to his companions, ”Someone is sneaking in the mists - do you want them dismissed?”

Spoiler: OOC

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If the answer is to dismiss the mists, Narek will try to use the hold person wand on whoever is in the mists. If not, he’ll make the hissing move away from Gilraen, as if circling around the tower.

Spoiler: Status

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AC: 13. HP: 19 Init +10 Move 30'
F +1 R +3 W +6
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/16 bolts
Spells (4/4+1/3+1): dancing lights, ghost sound, message, mage hand / silent image, obscuring mist, enlarge person, magic missile, heightened awareness / invisibility, invisibility, glitterdust, gallant inspiration
Prescience: 7/7; Good Dreams 1/1; wand of magic missile (24); wand of prestidigitation (23); wand of cause fear (10); wand of hold person (10)
Key skills: Perception +4; Stealth +2; Survival +3; Spellcraft +11; S. Motive +6; KS Arcane +11; KS Local +10; KS P/Na/D/R +9; KS H/E/G +8
Effect: prestidigitation (1hr); message (39 min); heightened awareness (+2 Perception, Trained KS; 39min); obscuring mist (32 rounds); enlarge person (Rask, 36 rounds)

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

"I think we're past the point where we need it. Do it."

[Farmerbink]

Through the spell, Gilraen gives assent. As the mists fade, he quickly scans the area for whatever it was he saw scurrying towards the mage. "Not that easy," he mutters as he lays eyes on the rat. Eyes gleaming with focus, he dashes forward with his staff held high.

Spoiler: Gilraen, round 8

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Gilraen Súrion
M CG Elf Oracle (warsighted), Level 4, Init 5, HP 11/25, Speed 40
AC 17, Touch 13, Flat-footed 14, CMD 18, Fort 3, Ref 4, Will 3, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 3
PBS MW composite long bow (36 arrows) +9 (1d8+2, x3 )
Quarterstaff +6 (1d6+3, x2)
Shillelagh Qstaff +7 (2d6+4, x2)
MW Chain shirt (+4 Armor, +3 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 17, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 14
Condition Charisma to saves vs enchantment
Chernasardo Hopeful: reduce concealment as a move action
-1x +1 frost arrows
Spells, 1st level: 6/7 remaining
2nd level: 3/4 remaining
Martial Flexibility: 4/5
Bless: (?? remaining, +1 attack, saves vs fear)
MF: precise shot (7 rounds remaining)

move as needed to engage the rat/wererat/ratkin/whatever
(1d20+7)[15] shillelagh- +2 if charging is applicable.
(1d20+7)[24] CC (27, x2)
(2d6+4)[13] dmg
(2d6+4)[15] crit bonus

[3SecondCultist]

Despite the enemy's best efforts, their forces have been gradually worn down past the point of meaningful resistance. The final hobgoblin soldier starts to retreat even further, seeing the fallen bodies of his brothers in arms. He doesn't make it more than a few inches before a thick arm of living stone erupts from the ground behind him. The elemental uses the Ironfang soldier as a counterweight as it hauls itself into existence. All you hear from the archer is a murmured plea before the emissary reaches out and trivially snaps its neck. As Ilsa slowly descends the stairs, she watches Eyena return into view and approach the giant body of the fallen Rask, potion in hand.

Up on the hillside, Narek - having made it to the top of his tower - is able to recall his spell with a flick of the wrist and an arcane gesture. The thick coils of fog slowly coalesce back into themselves, an explosion happening in reverse. As they do, they reveal a solitary figure: a hunched creature that looks somewhat like a hobgoblin an in studded leather, but with thick clumps of wet, matted fur all over its body. Its face is rat-like, and it has a long, naked tail. A single blade gleams in the moonlight as it glares balefully at the wizard. It is a mistake - Gilraen is more than capable of closing the distance, charging in with a great swing from his staff and bringing it to bear across the monster's ribs. One jagged cry of pain later and the rat is ducking out of the elf's reach, taking off to the north.

Finally, after a few interminable seconds, you hear a voice in perfectly cogent Taldane emerge from the conjured pit. "Well, I can't hear any fighting... so it sounds like my side lost. Any chance you would be open to accepting a hostage?"

Spoiler: OOC - End of Combat

Show

Well then, it looks like that's that! We're not really going to be in combat rounds anymore since the last two enemies are retreating or have just surrendered to you. You can assume that Eyena gives Rask her potion and wakes the half-orc back up. Congratulations on coming away from the climactic battle with zero fatalities - you guys were up against some serious muscle here, and the fact that nobody died even though you changed plans halfway through is a testament to your group's core integrity.

We'll keep playing this scene out until you all decide to make any more checks, which we can resolve in Hangouts or in OOC. I imagine you'll want to heal and consolidate a bit before poking around.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

Ilsa relaxed her posture and looked to Gilraen, awaiting his answer.

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin

Once the mists disappeared, the group quickly spotted a rat-like figure moving towards the stairs. Gilraen managed to hurt it, but even his magic stick was insufficient to take the creature out. Raising his wand, Narek cast a spell to stop the fleeing rat-man.

”Don’t let him go! And watch that creature in the pit ... I don’t trust her. Not sure we need a hostage just now. ”

Spoiler: OOC

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Hold person on the rat (DC 13 vs will?)

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 13. HP: 19 Init +10 Move 30'
F +1 R +3 W +6
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/16 bolts
Spells (4/4+1/3+1): dancing lights, ghost sound, message, mage hand / silent image, obscuring mist, enlarge person, magic missile, heightened awareness / invisibility, invisibility, glitterdust, gallant inspiration
Prescience: 7/7; Good Dreams 1/1; wand of magic missile (23); wand of prestidigitation (23); wand of cause fear (10); wand of hold person (9)
Key skills: Perception +4; Stealth +2; Survival +3; Spellcraft +11; S. Motive +6; KS Arcane +11; KS Local +10; KS P/Na/D/R +9; KS H/E/G +8
Effect: prestidigitation (1hr); message (39 min); heightened awareness (+2 Perception, Trained KS; 39min); obscuring mist (32 rounds); enlarge person (Rask, 36 rounds)

[PersonMan]

Eyena, returning the empty vial to her belt after feeding Rask the contents, rises and approaches the pit, nodding down to the hobgoblin inside. When she emerges, or when the pit rises, she instructs her with looks and gestures to set her weapons to the side, Eisenherz in one hand at all times.

[3SecondCultist]

The ratling makes it all the way to the treeline, ducking in and behind the branches to as to try and escape Gilraen and the rest of the Shepherds. He has no allies left to call on, the only real chance for his salvation being left in a pit surrounded by dead kin; it would be hard to judge him for running from such a fight. However, some of you have other things in mind. With no real resistance left from the Ironfang soldiers below, Narek pulls out the carved crystal wand that he took from Ighiz and the Children of Stone. One murmured incantation later, and the rat just completely stops moving. Frozen in place, he's an easy target for anyone who might want to pick him off.

Before Eyena gets to the side of the pit, she and the rest of the team down in the courtyard hear Yissti. "... hello? I can hear voices! Look, I promise I won't blow anybody else up if you don't cut my throat, okay? But if I don't hear terms, I'm going to assume we're doing this the brute force way."

What's strange is that the hobgoblin's is not the only whining that all of you hear. You didn't notice it at first, but not five feet from where Scarvinious' body lies, there is a covered shape that looks like a box of some kind. In the struggle, parts of the cloth were shifted, revealing what appears to be wooden latticework that you recognize as a cage of some kind. From the shadows of those recesses emerges a soft whimpering sound, followed by a bit of snuffling.

[Farmerbink]

Gilraen barks over his shoulder in Elven, "Bind her, if you prefer it! I will recover the other one!" He dashes into the woods at the Ratling's heels, surprised to find it outpacing him even with his enchanted footwear. Thus, it is more than small relief to find it standing stock still in the faint moonlight. Not wanting to take chances, he clubs the creature over the head with his enchanted staff, and sets about to binding it with a length of rope.

Spoiler: Final round?

Show

If possible, I'd like to do this non-lethally. Oddly (perhaps), Gilraen is more inclined toward empathy with the animal-esque foe.

(1d20+7)[12] (-4 for NL, +4 for helpless target, against further reduced AC for 0 dex)
(1d20+7)[19] CC
(2d6+4)[11] nonlethal damage

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

At the alchemist's follow-up, Ilsa called out.

"We will accept your surrender. Kneel down and keep your hands where we can see them. The pit should reverse itself in a few moments."

[n0ble]

As he woke, Rask scanned the camp for anyone that was still alive. Seemed like the only voice that belonged to a hostile.That was good. They would need information, even if the thought of leaving another hob alive did little to leech the anger from his body. He wasnt about to brook the other deadmen their lives. Rask got up and walked over to the prone bugbear, disappointed with himself for being so concerned with such a weakling. He rose the mallet over his head and applied hammerhead to cranium by ways of finishing off the commander. Kill the man. **** the rank. He took some small measure of solace from his disappointment in the wet sounds his hammer made as it impacted with skulls.

Spoiler: OOC

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Serving out CDGs to any unconscious bad guys.

[3SecondCultist]

With the rat creature stilled and incapacitated for the time being, it's a very simple matter for Gilraen to catch up to the creature and give it a good thwack over the head with his magicked quarterstaff. The second the spell fades, the little rogue collapses into a heap, allowing the elf to bind its arms and legs with ease. Dragging the body back over the moonlit grass towards the shape of the tower, he meets up with Narek in order to survey the aftermath of the courtyard battle below. Both figures see the quiet smoldering of the tent fire, the bodies of the dead or dying, and the blood that has spread all over the camp.

Rask awakes from dark dreams and the first thing he sees is the unseeing eyes of Scarvinious. Still enlarged - although the spell is quickly wearing its course and will be reversed in a matter of moments - the half-orc takes the opportunity to finish the job. The loud, wet impacts of his earth breaker reverberate off of the ravine walls, drowning out the post-battle silence that you've all gotten used to by now. He brings the hammer down just in time to make eye contact with Yissti, as the shifting of the earth brings her to a level with all of you. For her part, the alchemist only winces at the sight of bits of bone and brain, and falls to her knees when she hears Ilsa's call. "Yeah," some of you hear her murmur. "Screw that. No way I'm going out like Scar - I'm gonna live."

In that moment, all of you look about and see each other. Most of you are spent, if not outright at death's door. But your enemy is captured, or otherwise dead at your feet. None of the Ironfang soldiers stir from their final sleep. The night is yours.

Spoiler: OOC

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Well, that's officially a wrap on this combat! Your buffs will wear off, but so will Yissti's, and she will submit to being tied up for now at least. With her and the unconscious Skinder in custody, there are no enemies left on the field. I'm going to assume that you have enough rope to bind both of them separately.

At this point, I'm happy to return to 'narrative' time. You guys can choose to search various parts of the camp and loot the bodies, interrogate your prisoner(s), or rest. As soon as people let me know what they're doing, I can get some results for you.

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin

Narek approached the Alchemist with his arcane eye. As he gazed over the prisoners, he spoke to his companions first. ”Strip them both of all their gear and search them for tricks. The items of note are this, this and this.” He pointed out the items that resonated with magic. Once this was complete, he turned to the Alchemist and spoke in a steady, conversational tone.

”I trust we can dispense with grandiose threats and intimidation tactics. The facts speak for themselves. ”. He turned his sweeping gaze across the battlefield, lingering for a moment on the pile of flesh that was formally in charge, before looking back to Yissti.

”To be honest, I do not relish keeping a prisoner. However, we both know you have vital information. I won’t make false promises to you. However, make yourself useful and your survival odds increase. Let’s start with your name and the mission you and your companions were given. Then we’ll move on to more compelling questions ...”

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Detect magic, strip search and secure the prisoners, start asking questions. Letting the others sweep the camp.

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 13. HP: 19 Init +10 Move 30'
F +1 R +3 W +6
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/16 bolt
Spells (4/4+1/3+1): dancing lights, ghost sound, message, mage hand / silent image, obscuring mist, enlarge person, magic missile, heightened awareness / invisibility, invisibility, glitterdust, gallant inspiration
Prescience: 7/7; Good Dreams 1/1; wand of magic missile (23); wand of prestidigitation (23); wand of cause fear (10); wand of hold person (9)
Key skills: Perception +4; Stealth +2; Survival +3; Spellcraft +11; S. Motive +6; KS Arcane +11; KS Local +10; KS P/Na/D/R +9; KS H/E/G +8
Effect: prestidigitation (1hr); message (39 min); heightened awareness (+2 Perception, Trained KS; 39min)

[Farmerbink]

Gilraen drags the Ratling unceremoniously to the rest of the group to simplify watching over both captives at once. He leaves them a significant distance apart to minimize their ability to scheme in secret, and almost immediately notes the cage and snuffling sounds coming from within. He glances back towards Narek and their remaining conscious foe, waits until she is bound and relieved of her equipment, and turns his attention to the wooden latticework.

Spoiler: OOC

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Perception, because I won't want to die: (1d20+9)[10]
Assuming it isn't/doesn't look dangerous, Gilraen will approach and try to make contact.

[n0ble]

He damn-near collapsed from the exertion of ending the bugbear's life, though bracing himself against where the hammerhead lay on the ground helped somewhat. Rask dragged a hand across his face and wiped some of the brain matter and other viscera away from when ere it'd gone and landed itself. The aftereffects of the heat of battle had left him feeling dam-old. He stood up and, raised to full height, found himself feeling a little younger for the absence of a stooped sensation in his back.

Rask set a mean squint to the hob grenadier, then looked towards inflicting the same fatal injuries on any other hobs that still looked like they were breathing.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

Ilsa descended into the camp, crossbow at the ready. She did not interfere with Narek as he interrogated the grenadier, but rather joined the others.

"Is everybody okay? I know things got rather hairy for a bit."

[PersonMan]

Eyena stays with Narek and the Yissti, standing by her, giving silent directions if the hobgoblin slows, Eisenherz at the ready. Once the alchemist has released her weapons, Eyena binds her limbs. She works silently and methodically, though her work does seem to pay heed to Yissti's comfort more than is necessary, keeping her from moving too much without forcing arms into uncomfortable positions or overly-tight binds.

When she finishes, Eyena steps away, turning to Ilsa as she approaches. "Yes," she says, nodding, though she frowns slightly at the motion, shifting her posture slightly and brushing a bit of hair away from the still-red part of her neck that had been exposed more directly to the frosty explosion earlier. "I am, that is..." she frowns for a moment. "Thank you. Are you, also...ok?"

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa

Ilsa winced slightly, but nodded. "Took an arrow in the arm. Other than that, I'm fine - you guys attracted most of their attention."

[3SecondCultist]

With Rask still finishing off any semblance of life in the unconscious Ironfang troops on the ground, Narek is able to corral both Yissti and her ratling ally at the center of the courtyard. The alchemist looks down at her last unconscious teammate with a slight shake of her head. "What an idiot. You can go ahead and slit his throat or whatever, he doesn't know anything important. He's just another slave, although his lycanthropy was interesting to study initially. Can you believe we're cousins?" She doesn't resist when you take her belongings and lay them out in front of her. The bandolier on Yissti's belt carries eight vials made of hardened metal, five of which are full of some substance or another. There is also the matter of her exceptionally fine longbow, along with what seems like several alchemically fortified tangle bags and other sundry items. In her purse, the grenadier also has a bit of spare change and a set of keys, which you realize open the manacles that hang off of the unconscious wererat's left wrist.

"Well anyway, my name's Yissti. Hi." You see her try to wave, only to realize belatedly that she is in fact bound with rope. "I'm Ironfang grenadier corps, second class. No need to torture me or anything - I have an extremely low tolerance for pain. Why don't I just tell you what I know? We were all dispatched with Scar over there to set up a forward base here in the southern woods to weed out any survivors from the Phaendar attack. We were also told to keep an eye out for any other Chernasardo stragglers, on account of some big operation going on up north. Eventually, I suspect our orders would have been to turn this place into a staging ground from which we could control the southern highway to Tamran. Beyond that, I'm not really sure what else command had in store."

Near the base of the ravine, Gilraen approaches the source of the noise while his companions are busy. The whining sound grows slightly louder as he approaches, but whatever is hidden in underneath the tarp doesn't sound too dangerous. Stepping closer, the elf lifts the cloth to reveal a large wooden cage that is at most five feet across on each side. There is a padlock on the door, and the wooden bars have been scratched several times from within. Inside the cage is a tawny furred creature perhaps four feet long and half as wide. Resembling a small, half-starved wolf, this undeniably canine beast stares right at Gilraen with deep intensity and hunger. The animal's eyes are a light brown shade, and seem surprisingly intelligent. There's also no question that this beast has been mistreated: a cursory glance reveals several areas of shorn fur and deep cuts, and it limps over to the cage door to entreat its would-be rescuer to open it.

Spoiler: OOC

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So Gilraen has found a strange creature - go and check the Knowledge (Nature) spoiler if you want to find out what exactly it is. Beyond that, the items that Yissti and Skinder have on their persons have all been added to the Google spreadsheet (I'm assuming that Narek is going to take the time to identify them).

Also... I spent several hours customizing the stat blocks for this creature, only for Roll20 to lose all of my work when it updated its Pathfinder sheets. I'll work on getting those up soon.

Spoiler: Sense Motive DC 10

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Yissti really seems telling the unvarnished truth here. None of what she says contradicts anything you've heard, and she really does seem genuine in her intent to not be tortured. The only untruth would likely be her 'low tolerance for pain', since hobgoblins are quite hearty by nature.

Spoiler: Knowledge (Nature) DC 11

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This canine creature is known as a 'switchback jackal'. While the wolves and big cats of Nirmathas draw much of the common folk's fear and ire, the region's clever jackals inflict far more damage on farms and herds. Able to digest almost anything, these small predators scavenge and steal with unparalleled skill, bypassing gates, seals, traps, and even doors with ease to plunder chickens, goats, and produce.

Switchback jackals mostly make their homes in the plains that cover Nirmathas and Molthune, though they can survive easily in the rocky foothills of the Mindspin Mountains and on the marshy coastline of Lake Encarthan. They breed in late spring, after 3 weeks of howling hauntingly beautiful mating songs each evening. Pups lose their mottled black-and-white coats after 6 months, growing into their dusty adult coats. During this time, packs are especially aggressive and territorial.