Age of Giants- Live or Die Trying

[DarkOne-Rob]

"I think we should, yes," confirms Brankahm as he looks to the others for their vote.

[Athaleon]

"Ay—yes, we should get as far as we can, I think, now that we have to climb. Finding a good hidden place to rest will be even more important." Urist's brow darkened at Perriket's Dwarf impression, but he reined in his dialect all the same.

[Palanan]

With the whiskerfolk and two dwarves ready to press on for several hours into the night, and the kobold evidently against the notion of going any further, Perriket glances to the claw-goblin for her vote.

[Farmerbink]

With just a bit of chagrin, Franklin nods, and the party continues onward. True to the Gnome's suggestion, you quickly find your steps more uneven than before, and pocked with sporadic stretches of rocky, precarious footing. Still, stoically you trudge onward, and upward, into the foothills of the Crags.

It's difficult, but not dangerous, as the worst of the brief slips are a few banged knees and scratched shins, thanks in part to your relatively low centers of gravity and light frames. The stocky Dwarves are fortunately blessed with keen dark vision, enabling them to avoid the worst of the slip risks, and help Franklin to navigate them without too much incident.

Gazing back over the plain, you can't help but be surprised by the vastness of it. There's an eerie glow far to the south, just past the curved horizon which leaves you wondering what could cause such a light, but at this distance there's nothing you can do but guess. Otherwise, the world is a grand, mostly flat, expanse of darkness. Stars dot the sky, gradually becoming overpowered by the rising moon's dull glare. Only the sudden void of starlight announces the canopy of the grand walnut trees that shelter Stepdownsy Forynth, now a hard two day's journey eastward. Amidst all that space, not a single torch glares. Not a single campfire betrays the presence of would-be travelers. Not that this area was ever densely inhabited, but you're struck by the apparent waste of space, nonetheless.

Fortunately, your travel up the foothills passes largely uninterrupted. Despite your best efforts, you never come upon any particularly good hiding spots, though you do venture a bit off the path (as best Franklin can figure), and find a shallow bluff that allows you to put your backs to a short cliff- hard to climb, but easy to defend. After several extra hours, you halt there, and all-but collapse with simple fatigue. There's no fire tonight, the obscured fields below giving all the reason you would need to avoid risking the beacon. Instead, you solemnly eat rations and talk quietly as the first wave of sleepers drift off on their bedrolls. Without reason otherwise, you take the same shifts- though shorter shifts this time.

It's almost an hour into the last watch, when Bushi first notices movement. With a quiet whisper to Heldrun, the squat cleric turns his gaze as indicated, and shortly thereafter confirms the little Goblin's suspicion. Thanks to the waning moonlight, you can see that something is moving... slowly, but it seems generally in your direction- still quite some distance away. Perhaps a quarter mile down the slope?

[Palanan]

Drawn from a dark tissue of nightmares, Perriket is wakened from a light sleep by a subtle nudge and murmured words between Heldrun and the claw-goblin. Pressed against the small cliff wall in the crisp predawn air, it takes but a moment to realize they have spotted something.

Perriket knuckles each eye with the back of a paw, flexes his nostrils and whiskers, and slinks to the edge of their all-too-exposed campsite. He allows his eyes to readjust to the moonlight, and stares long and carefully at whatever might be advancing up the hillside, all too close already. Likewise his ears angle forward, reaching for the faintest hint of sound—voice, footsteps, anything—and his nostrils flex wide, drawing in the scents of the coming day.

Spoiler

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Perception
(1d20+9)[27]

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

Even without a fire, the kobold enjoyed a warm cup of fluids and heated rations, thanks to his immense arcane power. He thought of casting his divinations again, but decides against it for the moment, unable to think of proper questions to focus on answering, only realizing now there were some he should have asked before they exhausted themselves. Being woken up earlier with the warning of movement, he pulled out his crossbow ready to chuck stones once more.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm is a bit slower to wake than some of the others, but his weapons are close at hand. "What is it? I'm ready to fight if we must..." he rumbles. With his chain shirt already in place the dwarf tries to avoid being too loud as he stares into the night. "Think it followed us?"

[Farmerbink]

Heldrun puffs, peering down the rough slope with an intensity that looks odd on the man- outside a forge, anyway. ""Can't be sure," he begins, his gravely voice barely more than whisper, "-least not without lettin' em walk on a while..."

For the moment, it seems there's nothing else you can do. Unfortunately, at this distance, your uncanny ability to penetrate the darkness serves no benefit. That and the distance makes it difficult to be certain of anything, so you hunker down for the moment and watch.

It's clearly a small group of small (not mechanically- but obviously nothing like a giant- even from here) bipedal figures, moving at a fair pace in the darkness. Over the course of a few anxious moments, stretching almost to a minute, they seem to move almost directly towards you- though they occasionally pause for some reason. After a time, Perriket notices one of the figures bending down to the ground. The others stop, as it... does something with the ground. When it rises, it gestures in your general direction (or maybe just up the slope?), and the group begins to move again.

Spoiler: OOC

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At the moment, they have obviously not located/identified/recognized you, yet. They're simply too far away. However, you estimate that you've got about 10 minutes before they stumble into your camp, if they keep coming this direction at their current pace.

It's mostly dumb luck and the nature of a generally still observer to a generally in-motion party that has given you this much lead time as warning.

[Palanan]

“We need to leave,” Perriket says in a ghost of a whisper, “now. Quietly.

“But we also need to know who and what they are. You three—” he nods to the dwarves—“should move out, now. Get as far as you can. Me and her—” a flick of the whiskers to the claw-goblin— “should hold back, watch them from a good place and see what they are.”

—And a thought: “Leave them something that will keep them busy a few moments, so we can watch what they do.” Perriket uses the archaic Dwarven dual form of we, connoting himself and the claw-goblin as a pair. “Something we—” back to the overall group form—“can afford to give up, some trinket that will occupy them. But we need to decide and leave now.”

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm frowns in the darkness, unhappy with the recommendations provided by his companion...but also with the circumstances that may require such a reaction. "They're too small to be giants...they're tracking us...and not all of us can see in the darkness," he says, thinking out loud. "We won't likely find a better place to defend ourselves, either...Friend Perriket, I don't think fleeing is the right decision. We should prepare ourselves to fight and then I will hail them once they're close enough. If several of you can hide we can surprise them if they prove hostile..." he argues before looking to their gnomish guide. "Besides, we won't be able to run from every fight, especially at night. Franklin won't be able to keep up all night, and it wouldn't be wise to try."

[Palanan]

Perriket puffs slightly through his whiskers in frustration. Why do dwarves always want to root themselves like a fulkin’ stalagmite?

Aloud—just barely—he counters, “We don’t know what they are, and we need to learn everything we can about them. If we’re clumped up in here, they can rush us from all sides and we’ll be trapped. Better to move out, so if they clump up here themselves we’ll have the advantage of surrounding them.

“And better yet, we’ll have the option of leaving quietly if that’s to our advantage. We may end up needing to fight—but there’s no need to fight immediately, not if we can learn something first.”

[tonberryking]

Bushi lets out a silent curse. She happens to have just the thing for the confusion tactic plan.

I didn't like these anyway... the tells herself as she slips a well used journal from her bag, flips through it and tears out two pages of random sketches that are unflattering in terms of skill, as she imagines them, anyway.

"If we're going to leave them something, let it be something to look at." she explains as she collects the rest of her gear and then drops the papers on the earthen floor.


"Whether the rest of you stay or go, I still need to hide for all our benefit." and then silently scampers into the underbrush, trusting that her allies can make themselves scarce.

Spoiler: OOC/rolls

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(1d20+18)[31] Stealth and Perception: (1d20+4)[11]

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm nods at the wisdom his companions are displaying. "Yes, I agree - we should investigate and see what they are. It seems that Bushi is volunteering, so let's wait a moment and find out what she discovers. Then if we'd like to try and ambush them we can do so without rushing to break camp and giving ourselves away," he says, trying to highlight that sudden movement will likely draw the attention of the trackers, either visually or by noise.

[Palanan]

“That’s your cue,” Perriket tells the dwarves in an urgent ghost of a voice. “They’re still well enough down the slope—if you leave now, you can be away before they spot you. I’ll stay here with her—” a nod to where Bushi disappeared— “and we’ll see who they are.

“But the rest of you have to go. Now.”

[DarkOne-Rob]

With a frustrated, but respectful, grunt Brankahm grabs his gear and looks at the others in the darkness. "Seems I'm the only one voicing the opinion to stay here. Let's go," he says as he gets ready to lead the others away...

Spoiler: Mechanics and OoC

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I'm not sure striking camp is fast or quiet enough, but I don't want to argue...

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

The kobold looks about for a moment, thinking.. When suddenly he gets an idea! Muttering some incantation, his senses start gathering up information, sight beyond sight.

Spoiler

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Casting Ears of the City, duration 16 seconds.

Question 1: Who is Approaching (1d20+10)[11] information gather check.
Question 2: Are they Hostile (1d20+10)[29]

[Athaleon]

"We ought to stay together, and it seems to me they're tracking us anyway. Breaking camp and moving won't help us evade and might get us spotted. Maybe we can ambush 'em—if they're hostile, it's our best chance to fight on our chosen ground. Don't have to fight if they don't, after all." Urist suggested in a whisper.

[Palanan]

“If we fight here we’re trapped,” Perriket murmurs as he slinks towards cover. “If you move out now then you can enclose them later if you need to. Either way we—” again the dual we, connoting himself and Bushi— “can see who and what they are. —Now go! Please! Just go!”

[Farmerbink]

As Paranomasia revels in his burst of insight, he temporarily goes blind to the well-intentioned bickering going on around him. With the ability to focus his efforts on the seen but unidentified figures, he finds himself picking up strands of thoughts and emotion. Details of efforts unseen and goals unspoken (or at least unheard).

It seems, above all else the approaching party is ambitious. Things could become hostile, but perhaps not. You get a sense of hunger, but not the literal, food-related kind. Whispers of "meat," "slaves," and "honor" mingle in with the sounds of wind over the plains and water dripping somewhere deep below the surface. Groans of dull pain and whimpers of loss. Above all, they are diligently seeking gain for themselves.

Whatever else that may look like, you are certainly what their immediate quarry, as whispers of "passage," and "footsteps to the hills" echo in your thoughts.

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

Parnomasia comes out of his flash of insight, and frowns. Taking a breath, he thinks of using message but rather for now whispers "Alright, running from them isn't going to do anything unless we can fly. They're tracking our footprints through the passage. Worse yet, this is likely a young clutch of Trogs, who are desperate to prove their worth to their brethren. And we are the victims of that proof, but there is two ways this can go down, diplomatically or hostilely. Even if we move, they'll catch up in no time. We're tired and need rest, they're fresh..enough. And well, unless I'm wrong, most likely they are going to be hostile to us, unless we can show dominance in the situation." He hums. "Actually there is one possibility we have for escape, and that is a quick trap left behind. If they fall for it, we can escape, but if they don't, we're doomed."

[Palanan]

Perriket flicks his whiskers at Brankahm and murmurs a brief cantrip, and then continues with his original intent: slinking low into cover, out of the small depression and—with exquisite care—up to the top of the small cliff, where he will melt into deep cover with a view just over the edge of the small rock-face.

From there, he intends to surveil the oncoming meat-eating slaver lizards, and will pass along what he sees via the message cantrip to Brankahm.

Spoiler

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First roll is for Perriket’s initial stealth for slipping out of their sheltered encampment, through low cover and around to the top of the small cliff. He will slink for 50 feet or more upslope if that’s what it takes to avoid being too obvious, making every effort to use boulders, shrubs, clumps of grass and anything else for cover as he works his way around to the top of the clifflet:

Stealth
(1d20+17)[24]

Once there, Perriket will merge with cover at the top of the cliff—but he’ll pause a moment to see just how pointedly heroic he feels before rolling.

[Athaleon]

"No one's gonna be fighting here. Those of us who aren't sneaking about ought to get into a good ambush position." Urist examined the terrain around their camp for a better spot to fight.

Spoiler

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Survival? If so, (1d20+9)[21]

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm gets up and moves to shepherd most of their party out of the campsite, leaving it behind instead of breaking camp. "It'll be too loud - come on!" he urges as he uses his darkvision to help their gnomish guide and takes point stepping out into the darkness so that their pursuers arrive at an empty - but still "warm" campsite in a couple of minutes...

[Palanan]

Calling on all his skill and cunning, and whatever kindly spirits or strands of fate may bend his way, Perriket nestles down in his chosen spot just above the small rock-face, where he hopes to observe the oncoming creatures without being seen himself.

Spoiler

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Stealth (with hero point)
(1d20+25)[35]

[Athaleon]

Urist grumbled and followed the rest of the non-stealthy party members to wherever they were being led.

[Farmerbink]

Perriket takes up a crouching position, just peering over the edge of one of the many tall (to a Kobold) rocky outcroppings nearby. He watches keenly as the party slowly advances, clearly stopping periodically to reassess their tracker's findings. As the rest of the party slinks quietly (as much as they can) away, Perriket begins to make out glints of weaponry and scales in the comparatively bright moonlight. Grateful for the lack of a fire that would have been a dead giveaway, he costs heads as they approach- only 6 of the reptilian figures slink forward- clearly an advance party... of some kind.

Spoiler: OOC

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Just a reminder, your characters specifically chose this place to stop because it was defensible. In the absence of a really good opportunity to hide, you picked easily defensible- or at least that's what I recall choosing, between your stated priorities and the luck of the metaphorical draw.

To that end, I've made you a map. The approaching party is still some distance to the east, which is downhill. Give or take 6 minutes, as Perriket figures.

In the interest of 100% clarity, that is not code for "YOU WILL FIGHT HERE." But it is code for "you sure might."

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm looks around and tries to visualize the upcoming fight in his mind. "We have the high ground now...Perriket or Bushi, do you mind sneaking further down the slope and running to us to draw them in for the ambush? We can all hide along the ridges to the north and south, throw or shoot into the 'kill zone,' and then wade in with melee to mop up..."

To demonstrate the big dwarf draws his pelletbow, loads it, and lays flat on the ground to the south, aiming it to the narrow path to their plateau. He places his heavy flail beside him, within easy reach, and gets low to the ground. From bellow the lip of the campsite he wouldn't even be visible to the approaching troglodytes...

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Brankahm will move to either Q or R16, ready his gear as described, and lie prone on the ground to help with his stealth check (+1 modifier, taking 10 or 20 if allowed).

[Palanan]

"Good plan," Perriket barely whispers through the Message link to Brankham. "I'm in position here; let Bushi do the running."

Ensconced in his observation hide at the top of the small rock-face, Perriket strains his eyes, ears and snout to learn anything more about the reptilian creatures—their weapons, their armor, the musculature of their bodies, how they move and observe—and likewise strains his mind for any further scraps of information he can call up about them.

Spoiler: On High Alert

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Perception
(1d20+9)[29]

Knowledge (arcana)
(1d20+7)[18]

Knowledge (nature)
(1d20+7)[27]

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

As the others prepared to ambush the potential enemy, The kobold moved to the center of the clearing. He let a long sigh, muttering to himself "no blasted traps or proper escape route. I'll take the part of the distraction. At the very least, I should be able to communicate with them, and if all goes well then we'll have some allies. If not, blood for the soil, and may the grass grow ever greener."

[tonberryking]

So, about that running...

Bushi doesn't speed along, though this isn't the first time she's been asked to draw foes into an ambush, this is the most pleasant that she's had it asked of her, and not flat out referred to as 'bait' by the people doing the ambush part. Maybe next time someone will actually say 'please'!

She crawls on all fours through the underbrush, trying to find a good spot for her to jump out and run back to the others, but she also concedes to her primal, huntress instincts. She'll wait until she can see those approaching, to possibly discern if she can strike at any of them first before lighting out.

Spoiler: OOC/rolls

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(1d20+18)[38] Stealth; she's moving in the general area of AH/13, or however close she can get to that and still have cover, but more importantly, she is trying to give herself a straight path back to the others, with the least amount of DT that she has to run over.

(1d20+4)[19] Perception check