With Nikela's plans in tatters, the second wave of slaves break out from the compound.
One slave (8) leaps at the less injured guard, his bone pick crashing heavily into the guard's shining steal breastplate (a wasted crit, as they do flat dam., for 7 damage). Another slave (10) comes in at his side, but his club is easily parried by the other guard. The other three slaves move threateningly towards Nikela herself.
The halfling now takes his chance. Moving out from behind the fence, he puts his fingertips to his temples and closes his eyes. Nikela sees the nearer guard suddenly writhe with pain, hit by a thrust of psychic energy(16 damage); she has little time to reflect on this, however, as the world bursts into flashes of bright colour and an image of a sword seems to pierce her synapses (16 damage).
The guards react quickly, mortally wounding another two slaves (1 and 4). The slaves continue their onslaught nonetheless, with one of the wounded (1)smacking the farther guard a heavy blow (8 damage) before collapsing, a silent sigh escaping his lips. There's no let-up for the poor soldier, however, as another crack comes courtesy of another of his flankers (5).
Of those facing the badly wounded guard, one (6)hits home(8 damage); another, the second slave just wounded (4), blood spurting from his neck, crashes into the soldier, hands clutched round his throat (8 damage). The two fall in a death frieze.
Nikela realises she may have just moments to turn the flow of the battle.
Some better dice would be a good start.
Stats:
Halfling Wilder (G10) 38/38HP, AC 15, Fortitude 14, Reflex 15, Will 16
Nimble Reaction (+2 to AC vs Oas); Combat Advantage (+1d6 damage with CA)
Guard 1 (J3-K6) 19/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2) {bloodied}
[strike]Guard 2 (L3-L6) 3/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2)[/strike] Killed by Slave 4
[strike]Slave 1 (I9-J6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 2 (K8-K7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 3 (L11-L7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2
[strike]Slave 4 (N9-M6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2
Slave 5 (K10-J7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 6 (L10-M7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Nikela (K1-O3) 16/32HP, AC 12, Fort 16, Ref 12, Will 14, Surges: 11 (value: 8), AP: 0, {concealment, bloodied, grants CA till end of wilder's next turn}
Slave 7 (I11-N7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 8 (J10-K7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 9 (L12-O6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 10 (M10-L7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 11 (N11-O5) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
The inn in the Caravan Quarter was quiet. It was a fairly typical hostelry, providing rooms for a few triangular ceramic bits, and indifferent food and drink available round the clock. Currently, it only had two guests, and both were waiting for their dinner.
The innkeeper was a slimy sort, overly lugubrious, apparently eager to fulfil their every whim. One wouldn't trust him to hold a scarf, let alone handle money.
In the present moment, the innkeeper is standing at the bar, yelling into the backroom. A slave hurries out, carrying an overladen tray. As he reaches the space between the two occupied tables, something goes wrong. Either he overbalances, or he trips, or - something.
The plate flies out of his hand, the food and drink splattering over the floor - and over the guests. The innkeeper is instantly into the action. He scurries round the bar, smacks the slave hard on the back of the head, and turns to Targan, pointedly ignoring K'tac, with whose presence he barely copes.
"Ah - sir - please forgive me for this idiotic worm's incompetence! We will of course replace your dinner - both dinners - and both drinks," he says in a rapid-fire spray whilst perspiring, "Merely tell me first what to do with this piece of erdlu shit - his life is yours. Shall I flog him? Kill him? And then we shall sort out your drinks!"
The elf leader (3)cuts deep into Amdir's side as he springs away (Crit for 6 damage), but his colleague (3) has no time to react before the shaman is gone, so distracted is he by the buffeting blow from the inix spirit. The two follow Amdir, but the spirit interposes itself, and try as they might, they can find no way round.
Down below, the fight continues, each of the fighters getting a strike in (3 damage to Elf 2, 5 damage to Half-Elf). The two elves facing the spirit look back briefly, and seem unsure of what to do next – leave their fellow elf to escape and finish the half-blood, or try to work out a way past the spirit? The question on their minds is: will Amdir run?
So, shaman spirit companions as Thermopylae defense? Technically the elves could throw their daggers, but they're not going to do that...
Stats:
Half Elf (L5) 9/37HP, AC 16, Fortitude 12, Reflex 14, Will 12 {bloodied}
Elf 1 (N2-P3) 39/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Elf 2 (M5) 27/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Amdir (O1-R2) 11/28HP, AC 13, Fortitude 14, Reflex 11, Will 15, Surge: 10 (value: 7), AP: 0 {bloodied}
Spirit Companion (O3-P2) (when shaman moves, may move shaman's speed)
Elf 3 (O2) 32/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Map:
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ChanusHarbinger of the Spicy Rooster ApocalypseThe Flames of a Thousand Collapsed StarsRegistered Userregular
edited September 2010
Shanghai'ed
"Certainly no need for such measures, my good man," Targan states with a disarming grin. "A light flogging should remind him to be more graceful in such situations, but any more would be a waste. People like him, though plentiful, are still valuable."
Targan makes sure to keep a keen eye on his belongings during the cleanup. Watchful for any hands being in places they shouldn't.
"You are a wise man, sir, to understand such questions of economics!" the innkeeper fawns.
No move is made for Targan's belongings. The innkeeper turns to the slave.
"You oaf! I curse the day I bought you from your whore mother! Go and get our guests more wine, and tell Karn to cook more broth! I'll deal with YOU later."
He turns back to Targan, grinning in a fixed, pained fashion, genuflects slightly, and as he walks back to the bar, throws K'tac a cool look.
Leaving space for Tof to intro himself to the thread (and you to internal monologue/greet/whatever), then I'll continue.
Nikela sprinted across the battlefield to distance herself from the slaves heading toward her.
If I take down the halfling the rabble might scatter. I had better make this good.
"Try and attack me will you! Face the wrath of my lord!" Turning to the remaining guard she shouts words of... encouragement...to try and get him to fight harder.
Move: O3-I1 (keep my concealment)
Standard: Chains of Livistus at Halfling Wilder - 24 vs fort, HIT! 11 damage. If the halfling moves before eomnt it takes 2d6 damage.
Minor: Cross fingers
Halfling Wilder (G10) 27/38HP, AC 15, Fortitude 14, Reflex 15, Will 16
Nimble Reaction (+2 to AC vs Oas); Combat Advantage (+1d6 damage with CA)
Guard 1 (J3-K6) 19/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2) {bloodied}
Guard 2 (L3-L6) 3/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2) Killed by Slave 4
Slave 1 (I9-J6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 1
Slave 2 (K8-K7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 1
Slave 3 (L11-L7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 2
Slave 4 (N9-M6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 2
Slave 5 (K10-J7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 6 (L10-M7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Nikela (K1-O3) 16/32HP, AC 12, Fort 16, Ref 12, Will 14, Surges: 11 (value: 8), AP: 0, {concealment, bloodied, grants CA till end of wilder's next turn}
Slave 7 (I11-N7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 8 (J10-K7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 9 (L12-O6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 10 (M10-L7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 11 (N11-O5) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Shanghai'ed:
K'tac's antennae twitch as he wipes the spilled food off his face, whether in annoyance or amusement, it's hard to tell.
"I thinkk workking for that kankk smelling grub should prove punishment enough for the boy."
He fixes an unblinking, faceted eye on his apparent dinner companion. "We sseem to be the only patrons tonight. Perhaps we are the only ones who did not know the sservice was sso bad."
Kk'Thkk's trained eyes scan the desert wastes for any sign of their attacker and also any terrain that may benefit them in the coming fight as he slides past the Cavernmaster. Snatching the Chatchka from its sheath deep in the fleshy one's throat, he slips behind the cart using it to disappear from sight as he looks at the chatchka examining its make.
(So, three rolls are actually just observation checks, the only "actions" are to move to the opposite side of the cart from where the attack came, minor to snatch the chatchka, Stealth as part of the move action.)
Perception: 26 (For the origin of the attack) Nature: 21 (For beneficial terrain for the fight, and/or best place for the enemies to set up an ambush) Stealth: 21 (Using the cart for cover) Perception: 15 (To determine if the Chatchka seems thri-kreen, or elven, or something else)
ChanusHarbinger of the Spicy Rooster ApocalypseThe Flames of a Thousand Collapsed StarsRegistered Userregular
edited September 2010
Shanghai'ed:
"Second time's the charm, friend. The ale's warm and the food is cold, but it'll do! Not that it matters to you. What do you eat, anyway?"
Chanus on
Allegedly a voice of reason.
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Fondor_YardsElite Four Member: HydraRegistered Userregular
edited September 2010
Caughting his breath behind his spirit companion wall, Amdir grabs his bow and readies a bone arrow. The arrow has about as much luck as anything today, and soars over it's target harmlessly.
Shanghai'ed:
"Usually the flesh of ssoft ones."
This time he really does seem to be joking. Probably.
Seeing the look on Targan's face the thri-kreen's antennae twitch again. "That was a joke. We are not like the small ones. We eat what you do. Mosstly."
K'tac gathers the few belongings he brought with him and moves to sit next to Targan. "Perhaps he only has one table to go to, he will be half as likely to trip. And I am bored. What brings you to this hole?"
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ChanusHarbinger of the Spicy Rooster ApocalypseThe Flames of a Thousand Collapsed StarsRegistered Userregular
edited September 2010
Shanghai'ed:
"I'm here for the same reason I'm anywhere. Business! Profit is what I do, and I'm pretty good at it, if I do say so myself."
If you didn't know better, you'd be sure the tattoo on his brow just winked at you.
Shanghai'ed:
"I too hunt profits." K'tac says.
His head tilts to the side as if listening for something for a few moments. "Hunting such is much like when stalking a beast. First you must find it where it is, then you must go for the kkill." That last part sounded disturbingly literal.
Suddenly he shouts towards the kitchen, "Innkkeeper! Where my food!?" These words are delivered in a much thicker kreen accent than his normal speech, as if from one from deep in the wastes who rarely spoke Common.
Jaren looked over the “fresh” fruit stall. Most of it wasn't recognizable as something that had once lived – budded, bloomed, ripened into oranges or lemons. The mul owner watched him sullenly, obviously already believing the outlander was planning to steal the shrivelled wreckage.
Suddenly Jaren found himself thrown forward, being forced to steady himself on the stall – just as, to his left, a swarthy human kicked at one of the stall's legs. He looked around quickly, seeing a smirking younger mul. Both these aggressors were armoured and uniformed, and trailing a group of similarly-clothed men circling a robed noble...with a blue lining to his cloak. A Senator.
His eyes returned to the stall as a scream went up.
“MY STALL!” the owner yelled, “My fruit! You VILLAINS! You will pay me for this, that is for certain! Who is your master, may I ask? Tell me, damn you!”
The younger mul smirked and murmured so only Jaren could hear.
“Would you like reparation too, bumpkin?”
Astro, ronrab, go! Hope you have better luck than most so far...
The innkeeper scurried out, the slave following with the new food.
"Ah, sirs, I trust you have been enjoying your wine?"
The slave began to put the broth down in front of them.
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astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
edited September 2010
Serious Offense
Jaren eyed the group and quieted his seething rage. He was not his father, Zainen; he would not endanger the fate of his people by creating a stir if he could help it. He also was not his brother, Carr; he would not start a fight just because someone damaged his pride.
Jaren savored the feeling of the fig in his mouth that he had been sucking on all day, before chewing it and swallowing it. He also was not his grandmother...forgiveness did not suit him well. He spat on the ground near the feet of the young Mul aggressor, spittle brown with fig rinds.
"Nah, sport I don't want no trouble. I'm sorry if I got in yer way." Jaren leans in and whispers back to the Mul, "Best to move on, before yer pack leaves you alone though, lapdog."
Jaren gives a coin to the vendor and palms a bruised, pulpy pear, never removing his eyes from his aggressors.
Jaren can't tell what the flunkies are packing unless it is obvious. Perception = 10
He gets a pretty good read on whether these guys are just showing off or looking to actually start a fight. Insight = 20
He is slightly above average in the scariness dept. Intimidate = 11
I look around, seeing all of the other people getting up and moving around. It would not be TOO difficult for someone to slip out the back unnoticed. I however, would have significantly more trouble. Still. I cannot allow myself to be apprehended. Hopefully that man and this girl will be able to escape alright. I would hate to imagine what might befall them if either were to be captured.
The sudden flurry of action catches Shaan by surprise. Luckily, life on the streets has taught him to roll with developments like these. Quickly grabbing his sister to get her out of the line of fire, he starts moving toward the door looking for a chance to escape that way in the confusion.
Nearby, a woman seemed to melt into existence out of the crowd; she had paused, watching the scene play out.
Tanned skin that spoke of a life in the desert - or a family with that heritage, at least. Loose, light, flowing clothing; delicate features and a slight build said she was certainly not a laborer. One was tempted to say elven, but there was no definitive marking to confirm it. Elf blood, possibly.
Her expression was bland and unreadable, but she watched closely, showing definite interest.
The strange, robed gith and the halfling notice the commotion ahead at the same time. Then they simultaneously notice the commotion behind them.
“Employment papers! Get your employment papers out!”
A powerfully-built half-giant is at the head of the boulevard, leading a party of slave-soldiers. They are checking papers; nobles and merchants are being let through, everyone else is being herded to the side. A second party of slave soldiers is marching up from the other end of the street. There are no alleys on either side of this Caravan District run of shops and inns.
Alakka had felt compelled to come here; that strange image, that blurry shape, that unreal song. Was it her destiny to be taken by these weak beanpoles? Perhaps it was. But if not, how could she possibly avoid capture?
The Way taught placid calm at times like this, times which most people felt justified extreme emotions. As Shrakk notes this contrast, he was also forced to decide: did the Way require a calm surrender, or a struggle to enable further struggle?
Thorek watches from the crowd of those already rounded up. The strange pair in the middle of the road – they obviously did not know each other, but they had a striking likeness. The halfling and the gith – both marked by fate. To what end?
Pressganged
Alakka looks at the situation unfold, slowly chewing a meat strip in her mouth. She felt the weight of her obsidian-bladed club on her back, and knew that its tip was drawing a line behind her as she walked. She could make this into a fight, if she wanted to.
Whoever these thugs answered to, she did not want to meet them. She felt an irresistible urge to get away from the situation, and from somewhere deep within, the Alakka she used to be screamed at the prospect of being imprisoned.
This would not do. Not at all. She needed papers, so someone would have to sacrifice themselves for her. Alakka makes her decision. She quickly looks around, looking for some weak, but well-to-do individual for to bully for their papers. Her eyes pass Shrakk and Thorek, as they do not look suitable.
She finally settles on a lone merchant. Passing below the sight of the crowd, she corners the merchant. "You. You know what I want. Give them to me. Now." She sniffs the air. "Ahh. Got your scent. Can't hide from me no more. Better do it quickly, or else I'll find ya and eat ya."
A still more glorious dawn awaits, not a sunrise, but a galaxy rise, a morning filled with four hundred billion suns, the rising of the Milky Way.
"I'm sure he's fighting for his freedom or to prove he's not a worthless abomination. Unfortunately, he's wrong."
Kk'Thkk swift movement belies his size. He darts behind the cover of the cart, snatching the chatchka – elven – and notes the flat terrain surrounding them. The only feature are some deep red rocks on the nearside to him. He spies a flicker of movement.
From the other side of the cart, the original attackers leap up from the sand – two elves, who had apparently been hiding under camoflague. The frustration on their faces in that split-second shows they know they have lost the element of surprise – the 'kreen surmises that shot was a moment too early.
From behind the rocks two more elves rise, one screaming imprecations in elvish across the gap between the ambushing parties. If it wasn't for the blood streaming into the sand from the soft-flesh cart master, it would almost be comical. Two elves, one on either side of the wagon, throw a chatchka each, each finding a mark (5 damage to each PC).
Kk'Thkk springs into action.
Next Up: Kk'Thkk On Deck: Elf Scout
Kk'thkk's Per check saved you from a surprise round against you...
Stats:
Elf Sniper 1 (H10) 1/1HP, AC 17, Fortitude 13, Reflex 17, Will 16 Elf Sniper 2 (S9) 1/1HP, AC 17, Fortitude 13, Reflex 17, Will 16
Kk'Thkk (L8) 18/23HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 13, Will 15, Surges: 7 (value: 5), AP:1
Elf Scout (S8) 39/39HP, AC 16, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Elf Peddler (H9) 34/34HP, AC 16, Fortitude 12, Reflex 15, Will 15
Severin (M8) 24/29HP, AC 18, Fortitude 17, Reflex 14, Will 12, Surges 11 (value: 7), AP: 1
Map:
Purple is the rocks, which count as cover and difficult terrain. The buckboard is the brown, the grey is the covered part of the wagon. Being behind the buckboard is partial cover, behind the cart is partial concealment. Any other questions, ask...
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ChanusHarbinger of the Spicy Rooster ApocalypseThe Flames of a Thousand Collapsed StarsRegistered Userregular
edited September 2010
Shanghai'ed
"The wine is just fine, my good man. We appreciate you bringing out your newest bottle instead of one of those dusty, old ones you keep in the cellar." His grin is infectious, isn't it?
"Tell me, friend, is business normally like this or is it a slow shift?"
Streetwise check to see if I might know the answer already.
As the Templar staggers backwards, Shaan and Tiron have one last moment to enact their plans before the troops get over their shock.
You get a surprise round, then initiative kicks in. See map for key notes.
Stats:
Templar 2 (K8) 106/106HP, AC 24, Fortitude 22, Reflex 22, Will 23
Mul 1 (J9) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14 Mul 2 (K9) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14 Mul 3 (L9) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14 Mul 4 (K10) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14
Templar 1 (I8) 106/106HP, AC 24, Fortitude 22, Reflex 22, Will 23
Tiron (K7) 24/24HP, AC 15, Fortitude 11, Reflex 13, Will 15, Surges: 7 (value:6), AP: 1
Templar 3 (M8) 106/106HP, AC 24, Fortitude 22, Reflex 22, Will 23
Shaan (J5) 28/28HP, AC 19, Fortitude 19, Reflex 13, Will 14, Surges: 10 (value: 7), AP: 1
Map:
Here's the rub: the ENTIRE inn is difficult terrain, littered with tables, chairs, and customers – so movement is basically halved. Feel free to use this terrain in your flavour, by the way - you can improvise weapons from it, shove folk aside, etc. The thick black lines are partition walls and obscure view, except for the one between rows 4 and 5, which is the bar and provides partial cover (the whole room technically qualifies for partial cover but as it's universal, everyone will be at -2 so we might as well ignore it).
Black dots mark doors to the street; the limit of the grey elsewhere is solid wall. If you can reach a map edge I'll count you as escaped.
Re Kaala, I'm counting her as a maguffin here – she is near Shaan or in the same square. Basically, she's wherever she's needed. If Shaan escapes, she does too.
Shanghai'ed
K'tak almost answers the question reflexively, before thinking on it and realizes there was something off about the wine. He suddenly suspected the shiftless innkeeper had spiked it. He lets fly a stream of blistering invective in kreen, but knows he'd drunk to much already to free from whatever was in it.
Pressganged
Shrakk watches Alakka, considering moving to stop her but figuring it would only draw attention to all of them. With a slow exhale he looks around for perhaps something to club up onto, or another spot he could otherwise hide in.
The slave response to the attack on their leader is swift. Three pursue Nikela across the battlefield (7, 9, 11), surrounding her, but only one manages to see through the shadows surrounding her to strike true (5 damage).
Other slaves (8 and 10) continue the assault on the guard, who manages to fend one club off, but takes a hard blow to the back from the other (7 damage). A psychic blast from the halfling has only a negligible effect on the guard, who shrugs off all the abuse to follow his commander's lead. In a truly heroic effort, he shoves off the mob surrounding him, taking only one glancing blow from them (7 damage) as he charges the halfling.
With a mighty heft, he brings his halberd down at the halfling's face; the wilder manages to duck away from the blow, but still takes a very deep glancing cut in his shoulder (17 damage!) and knocking him prone.
The exhaustion tells on the brave soldier, because whilst he pulls back his halberd for the coup de grace, he fails to hear a slave (5) approaching him from behind, who strikes a killing blow(5 damage). Another slave (6) leaves his comrade to help their leader, and moves towards Nikela.
The Templar knows she has only moments left to deal with this rebellion, and she's going to have to be daring. Does she go after the wilder? Does she attempt defilement as a means to slaughtering the slaves? Or does she go for another route?
Stats:
Halfling Wilder (L9) 10/38HP, AC 15, Fortitude 14, Reflex 15, Will 16 {bloodied, prone}
Nimble Reaction (+2 to AC vs Oas); Combat Advantage (+1d6 damage with CA)
[strike]Guard 1 (K6-K9 Widowmaker) 4/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2)[/strike] Killed by Slave 5
[strike]Guard 2 0/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2)[/strike] Killed by Slave 4
[strike]Slave 1 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 2 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 3 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2
[strike]Slave 4 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2 Slave 5 (J7-J6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Slave 6 (M7-H3) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Nikela (O3-I1) 11/32HP, AC 12, Fort 16, Ref 12, Will 14, Surges: 11 (value: 8), AP: 0, {concealment, bloodied}
Slave 7 (N7-I2) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Slave 8 (K7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Slave 9 (O6-J2) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Slave 10 (L7-L6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Slave 11 (O5-J1) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
The leader of the thugs turns his to his flanker, who is desperately trying to keep out of the range of the spirit's horns.
“Soren, you idiot, throw your knife at the outcast! No argument! I'm going to help Tomen with the bloodfilth.”
Soren proceeds to, and with an unerring accuracy borne from terror, the dagger strikes home(6 damage), cutting deep into Amdir's thigh. Meanwhile, below, the half-elf continues to fight for life, scoring a bloody line into Tomen's leather jerkin (4 damage).
The lead elf keeps to his plan and moves up beside the half-blood, and both he and Tomen wound their victim (3 damage each). Though he is still standing, the half-elf is obviously on his last legs.
Stats:
Half Elf (L5) 3/37HP, AC 16, Fortitude 12, Reflex 14, Will 12 {bloodied}
Elf 1 (P3-L4) 39/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Elf 2 (M5) 23/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Amdir (R2) 5/28HP, AC 13, Fortitude 14, Reflex 11, Will 15, Surge: 10 (value: 7), AP: 1 {bloodied}
Spirit Companion (P2) (when shaman moves, may move shaman's speed)
Elf 3 (O2) 32/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
K'tac's insults might have been in 'kreen, but their meaning was clear. In response, the innkeeper smiles.
The two travellers both spotted the drug in the wine too late. For all their best efforts, they both feel their eyes closing. Targan stays awake long enough to see Kk'thkk slump to the floor heavily, before he too finds the compulsion overwhelming, and falls into a dreamless sleep.
The two wake with a sudden jolt. A quick look-around tells them they are lying on wooden boards. Both are tied and chained securely; their captors have even gone to the effort of tying all four of the thri-kreen's arms together, with his feet in a separate loop. Apart from their own bonds, they are each chained to rungs in the floor.
Above them is a canvas sheet on an oval frame; so they were in a cart. They had obviously been woken by the cart coming to a stop. They hear movement from what they can discern was the front of the cart, round to the back.
“So what have you brought us, citizen?” a baritone voiced asks neutrally.
“Two items. One entomological, one normal,” responds a fawning voice – the innkeeper's.
“Here – a square piece for each.”
There is the ceramic clink of a coin bag being taken and opened.
“We agreed two square pieces each! You said -” the innkeeper squeaks, before his business partner cuts in.
“King Kalak thanks you for your good work. Now leave. We will return the cart in the next few days.”
The captives hear the beginning of a protest from the innkeeper – but their former host has the sense to curb his tongue, and his scurrying off follows soon thereafter.
Feel free to RP for a post, and then roll Endurance again to resist the sleeping agent - DC 13. Failure means you crash again.
Shanghai'ed
As K'tac feels the fog in his head briefly lift, he surveys his surroundings. Though the innkeeper ran a terrible business, he seemed to know his restraints. The thri'kreen shifted futilely in his bindings.
Seeing the human coming to he says quietly, "Well Targan. We are now comrades in adverssity."
He tries once more find shift himself but is overcome by the remnants of whatever drug the innkeeper used.
Jaren quickly assesses the situation. The two gladiators by the stall both wield short swords. The younger mul mightn't want a fight with Jaren, but he does look like he has a trick up his sleeve.
The mul slave gives Jaren a crooked grin, before turning towards his lord, who is evidently seeking to ignore the trader's cries.
“My lord Verrasi! Werner and I have exposed two blackguards who planned to rob you! We seek your judgement!”
Verrasi turns round fully. He is tall, balding, with an aquiline nose. There is a sneering set to his features. Striding over, with two more armed slaves trailing, he sizes up the “culprits”. The four other members of his retinue start on crowd control, isolating the area around the stall.
He sizes up Jaren, and hisses, “Is this true? Do you dare to plot against Senator Verrasi?”
No-one notices the peculiar outlander woman who has drifted to the edge of the escalating situation.
Feel free to check Streetwise re: who Verrasi might be, both of you.
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Fondor_YardsElite Four Member: HydraRegistered Userregular
edited September 2010
Elf Trouble
Amdir winces in pain as the dagger lands in his thigh. He fires a return shot, but it also goes high, again. As much as it ashamed him to admit it, he had gotten his ass kicked here. He could barely keep himself up and running, much less help that poor stranger. If this was all the spirits had to show him here he'd gladly leave this forsaken place and never come back. With a heavy heart, he makes his way down the alley with his companion in tow.
Elf Trouble
The elf thugs leave Amdir to run; they are more interested in finishing off their original quarry, and have learned a wary respect for his spirit companion.
Once he is sure there is no pursuit, Amdir finds time to consider where to go next.
He could try to leave the city by the Caravan Gate, preferring to get out into the wild sooner rather than later; if he wants to sleep first, the best place for an elf to go is somewhere in the Elven Quarter, the depths of which he is currently in; there are numerous options if he's looking for a job straight away.
Amdir ponders.
Out of initative. 25 XP for good intentions. Where next? Just give a general indication and I can fill in the details.
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astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
edited September 2010
Serious Offense
Jaren cursed his quick tongue, he should have taken his drubbing and moved on to the next day without an incident. Something about these cretins rubbed him the wrong way though. Fancy clothes or no, this twit wouldn't last a day in the depths of the mountains. Time to try to play nice though....though Jaren was a bumpkin, he had heard a thing or two about the senators and this one in particular.
Jaren was never a great talker though, but at least he wouldn't embarrass himself today. Jaren thought before replying with a slight bow, "I plot nothing your excellency, other than buying fruit for my journeys. I believe your man here means well by ya, but he is mistaken. I am no blackguard or thief; I am a simple nomad. You are a great man though, so I hope we can go our separate ways in peace and I can stop wasting your valuable time."
He turns to the young mul, "Ya may want to work on your reflexes a bit if ya want ta serve your master well. Ya run into a bad sort like ya did me and my mate here, and ya mighta ended up flattened. Then the good senator is down a man. Good thing I'm such a nice bloke, yeah?"
rolls linked in the post, but streetwise: 19 (Nat. 20), Diplomacy 11
Posts
With Nikela's plans in tatters, the second wave of slaves break out from the compound.
One slave (8) leaps at the less injured guard, his bone pick crashing heavily into the guard's shining steal breastplate (a wasted crit, as they do flat dam., for 7 damage). Another slave (10) comes in at his side, but his club is easily parried by the other guard. The other three slaves move threateningly towards Nikela herself.
The halfling now takes his chance. Moving out from behind the fence, he puts his fingertips to his temples and closes his eyes. Nikela sees the nearer guard suddenly writhe with pain, hit by a thrust of psychic energy (16 damage); she has little time to reflect on this, however, as the world bursts into flashes of bright colour and an image of a sword seems to pierce her synapses (16 damage).
The guards react quickly, mortally wounding another two slaves (1 and 4). The slaves continue their onslaught nonetheless, with one of the wounded (1) smacking the farther guard a heavy blow (8 damage) before collapsing, a silent sigh escaping his lips. There's no let-up for the poor soldier, however, as another crack comes courtesy of another of his flankers (5).
Of those facing the badly wounded guard, one (6) hits home (8 damage); another, the second slave just wounded (4), blood spurting from his neck, crashes into the soldier, hands clutched round his throat (8 damage). The two fall in a death frieze.
Nikela realises she may have just moments to turn the flow of the battle.
Some better dice would be a good start.
Stats:
Halfling Wilder (G10) 38/38HP, AC 15, Fortitude 14, Reflex 15, Will 16
Nimble Reaction (+2 to AC vs Oas); Combat Advantage (+1d6 damage with CA)
Guard 1 (J3-K6) 19/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2) {bloodied}
[strike]Guard 2 (L3-L6) 3/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2)[/strike] Killed by Slave 4
[strike]Slave 1 (I9-J6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 2 (K8-K7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 3 (L11-L7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2
[strike]Slave 4 (N9-M6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2
Slave 5 (K10-J7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 6 (L10-M7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Nikela (K1-O3) 16/32HP, AC 12, Fort 16, Ref 12, Will 14, Surges: 11 (value: 8), AP: 0, {concealment, bloodied, grants CA till end of wilder's next turn}
Slave 7 (I11-N7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 8 (J10-K7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 9 (L12-O6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 10 (M10-L7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 11 (N11-O5) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Map:
Shaan cannot see any exits other than the front door and, presumably, the rear door, located in the backroom behind the bar.
The inn in the Caravan Quarter was quiet. It was a fairly typical hostelry, providing rooms for a few triangular ceramic bits, and indifferent food and drink available round the clock. Currently, it only had two guests, and both were waiting for their dinner.
The innkeeper was a slimy sort, overly lugubrious, apparently eager to fulfil their every whim. One wouldn't trust him to hold a scarf, let alone handle money.
In the present moment, the innkeeper is standing at the bar, yelling into the backroom. A slave hurries out, carrying an overladen tray. As he reaches the space between the two occupied tables, something goes wrong. Either he overbalances, or he trips, or - something.
The plate flies out of his hand, the food and drink splattering over the floor - and over the guests. The innkeeper is instantly into the action. He scurries round the bar, smacks the slave hard on the back of the head, and turns to Targan, pointedly ignoring K'tac, with whose presence he barely copes.
"Ah - sir - please forgive me for this idiotic worm's incompetence! We will of course replace your dinner - both dinners - and both drinks," he says in a rapid-fire spray whilst perspiring, "Merely tell me first what to do with this piece of erdlu shit - his life is yours. Shall I flog him? Kill him? And then we shall sort out your drinks!"
Chanus, Tof - go!
The elf leader (3) cuts deep into Amdir's side as he springs away (Crit for 6 damage), but his colleague (3) has no time to react before the shaman is gone, so distracted is he by the buffeting blow from the inix spirit. The two follow Amdir, but the spirit interposes itself, and try as they might, they can find no way round.
Down below, the fight continues, each of the fighters getting a strike in (3 damage to Elf 2, 5 damage to Half-Elf). The two elves facing the spirit look back briefly, and seem unsure of what to do next – leave their fellow elf to escape and finish the half-blood, or try to work out a way past the spirit? The question on their minds is: will Amdir run?
So, shaman spirit companions as Thermopylae defense? Technically the elves could throw their daggers, but they're not going to do that...
Stats:
Elf 1 (N2-P3) 39/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Elf 2 (M5) 27/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Amdir (O1-R2) 11/28HP, AC 13, Fortitude 14, Reflex 11, Will 15, Surge: 10 (value: 7), AP: 0 {bloodied}
Spirit Companion (O3-P2) (when shaman moves, may move shaman's speed)
Elf 3 (O2) 32/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Map:
"Certainly no need for such measures, my good man," Targan states with a disarming grin. "A light flogging should remind him to be more graceful in such situations, but any more would be a waste. People like him, though plentiful, are still valuable."
Targan makes sure to keep a keen eye on his belongings during the cleanup. Watchful for any hands being in places they shouldn't.
Cah-rushed it! :P
"You are a wise man, sir, to understand such questions of economics!" the innkeeper fawns.
No move is made for Targan's belongings. The innkeeper turns to the slave.
"You oaf! I curse the day I bought you from your whore mother! Go and get our guests more wine, and tell Karn to cook more broth! I'll deal with YOU later."
He turns back to Targan, grinning in a fixed, pained fashion, genuflects slightly, and as he walks back to the bar, throws K'tac a cool look.
Leaving space for Tof to intro himself to the thread (and you to internal monologue/greet/whatever), then I'll continue.
Nikela sprinted across the battlefield to distance herself from the slaves heading toward her.
If I take down the halfling the rabble might scatter. I had better make this good.
Taking a second to collect her power, she launched several icy chains at the ringleader. The chains wrap themselves around the halfling and dig in causing substantial damage.
"Try and attack me will you! Face the wrath of my lord!" Turning to the remaining guard she shouts words of... encouragement...to try and get him to fight harder.
Move: O3-I1 (keep my concealment)
Standard: Chains of Livistus at Halfling Wilder - 24 vs fort, HIT! 11 damage. If the halfling moves before eomnt it takes 2d6 damage.
Minor: Cross fingers
Nimble Reaction (+2 to AC vs Oas); Combat Advantage (+1d6 damage with CA)
Guard 1 (J3-K6) 19/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2) {bloodied}
Guard 2 (L3-L6) 3/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2) Killed by Slave 4
Slave 1 (I9-J6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 1
Slave 2 (K8-K7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 1
Slave 3 (L11-L7) 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 2
Slave 4 (N9-M6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11 Killed by Guard 2
Slave 5 (K10-J7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 6 (L10-M7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Nikela (K1-O3) 16/32HP, AC 12, Fort 16, Ref 12, Will 14, Surges: 11 (value: 8), AP: 0, {concealment, bloodied, grants CA till end of wilder's next turn}
Slave 7 (I11-N7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 8 (J10-K7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 9 (L12-O6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 10 (M10-L7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 11 (N11-O5) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
K'tac's antennae twitch as he wipes the spilled food off his face, whether in annoyance or amusement, it's hard to tell.
"I thinkk workking for that kankk smelling grub should prove punishment enough for the boy."
He fixes an unblinking, faceted eye on his apparent dinner companion. "We sseem to be the only patrons tonight. Perhaps we are the only ones who did not know the sservice was sso bad."
(So, three rolls are actually just observation checks, the only "actions" are to move to the opposite side of the cart from where the attack came, minor to snatch the chatchka, Stealth as part of the move action.)
Perception: 26 (For the origin of the attack)
Nature: 21 (For beneficial terrain for the fight, and/or best place for the enemies to set up an ambush)
Stealth: 21 (Using the cart for cover)
Perception: 15 (To determine if the Chatchka seems thri-kreen, or elven, or something else)
Initiative: 16
"Second time's the charm, friend. The ale's warm and the food is cold, but it'll do! Not that it matters to you. What do you eat, anyway?"
A man does what he must.
Minor: Sheath longspear
Minor: Draw longbow
Standard: Basic Ranged Attack vs Elf 3 AC
Attack: 1d20+3: 10! Miss!
A third 7 on an attack roll out of 5! Grrr! And a 1 on the damage roll!
NEXT UP: Elf 3
ON DECK: Half Elf
3DS Code: 5043-2172-1361
Xbone Tag: Salal al Din
"Usually the flesh of ssoft ones."
This time he really does seem to be joking. Probably.
Seeing the look on Targan's face the thri-kreen's antennae twitch again. "That was a joke. We are not like the small ones. We eat what you do. Mosstly."
K'tac gathers the few belongings he brought with him and moves to sit next to Targan. "Perhaps he only has one table to go to, he will be half as likely to trip. And I am bored. What brings you to this hole?"
"I'm here for the same reason I'm anywhere. Business! Profit is what I do, and I'm pretty good at it, if I do say so myself."
If you didn't know better, you'd be sure the tattoo on his brow just winked at you.
"I too hunt profits." K'tac says.
His head tilts to the side as if listening for something for a few moments. "Hunting such is much like when stalking a beast. First you must find it where it is, then you must go for the kkill." That last part sounded disturbingly literal.
Suddenly he shouts towards the kitchen, "Innkkeeper! Where my food!?" These words are delivered in a much thicker kreen accent than his normal speech, as if from one from deep in the wastes who rarely spoke Common.
Jaren looked over the “fresh” fruit stall. Most of it wasn't recognizable as something that had once lived – budded, bloomed, ripened into oranges or lemons. The mul owner watched him sullenly, obviously already believing the outlander was planning to steal the shrivelled wreckage.
Suddenly Jaren found himself thrown forward, being forced to steady himself on the stall – just as, to his left, a swarthy human kicked at one of the stall's legs. He looked around quickly, seeing a smirking younger mul. Both these aggressors were armoured and uniformed, and trailing a group of similarly-clothed men circling a robed noble...with a blue lining to his cloak. A Senator.
His eyes returned to the stall as a scream went up.
“MY STALL!” the owner yelled, “My fruit! You VILLAINS! You will pay me for this, that is for certain! Who is your master, may I ask? Tell me, damn you!”
The younger mul smirked and murmured so only Jaren could hear.
“Would you like reparation too, bumpkin?”
Astro, ronrab, go! Hope you have better luck than most so far...
The innkeeper scurried out, the slave following with the new food.
"Ah, sirs, I trust you have been enjoying your wine?"
The slave began to put the broth down in front of them.
Jaren eyed the group and quieted his seething rage. He was not his father, Zainen; he would not endanger the fate of his people by creating a stir if he could help it. He also was not his brother, Carr; he would not start a fight just because someone damaged his pride.
Jaren savored the feeling of the fig in his mouth that he had been sucking on all day, before chewing it and swallowing it. He also was not his grandmother...forgiveness did not suit him well. He spat on the ground near the feet of the young Mul aggressor, spittle brown with fig rinds.
"Nah, sport I don't want no trouble. I'm sorry if I got in yer way." Jaren leans in and whispers back to the Mul, "Best to move on, before yer pack leaves you alone though, lapdog."
Jaren gives a coin to the vendor and palms a bruised, pulpy pear, never removing his eyes from his aggressors.
He gets a pretty good read on whether these guys are just showing off or looking to actually start a fight. Insight = 20
He is slightly above average in the scariness dept. Intimidate = 11
I look around, seeing all of the other people getting up and moving around. It would not be TOO difficult for someone to slip out the back unnoticed. I however, would have significantly more trouble. Still. I cannot allow myself to be apprehended. Hopefully that man and this girl will be able to escape alright. I would hate to imagine what might befall them if either were to be captured.
I kick the lead templar square in the chest, hoping to knock him off balance long enough to sprint for the back exit.
The sudden flurry of action catches Shaan by surprise. Luckily, life on the streets has taught him to roll with developments like these. Quickly grabbing his sister to get her out of the line of fire, he starts moving toward the door looking for a chance to escape that way in the confusion.
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
Saguda
Nearby, a woman seemed to melt into existence out of the crowd; she had paused, watching the scene play out.
Tanned skin that spoke of a life in the desert - or a family with that heritage, at least. Loose, light, flowing clothing; delicate features and a slight build said she was certainly not a laborer. One was tempted to say elven, but there was no definitive marking to confirm it. Elf blood, possibly.
Her expression was bland and unreadable, but she watched closely, showing definite interest.
Could I please have some...Initiative?
Initiative: 1d20+0 6
Yeah, that's not going to do it.
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
The strange, robed gith and the halfling notice the commotion ahead at the same time. Then they simultaneously notice the commotion behind them.
“Employment papers! Get your employment papers out!”
A powerfully-built half-giant is at the head of the boulevard, leading a party of slave-soldiers. They are checking papers; nobles and merchants are being let through, everyone else is being herded to the side. A second party of slave soldiers is marching up from the other end of the street. There are no alleys on either side of this Caravan District run of shops and inns.
Alakka had felt compelled to come here; that strange image, that blurry shape, that unreal song. Was it her destiny to be taken by these weak beanpoles? Perhaps it was. But if not, how could she possibly avoid capture?
The Way taught placid calm at times like this, times which most people felt justified extreme emotions. As Shrakk notes this contrast, he was also forced to decide: did the Way require a calm surrender, or a struggle to enable further struggle?
Thorek watches from the crowd of those already rounded up. The strange pair in the middle of the road – they obviously did not know each other, but they had a striking likeness. The halfling and the gith – both marked by fate. To what end?
Suleman, Scyner, Squints, GO!
Alakka looks at the situation unfold, slowly chewing a meat strip in her mouth. She felt the weight of her obsidian-bladed club on her back, and knew that its tip was drawing a line behind her as she walked. She could make this into a fight, if she wanted to.
Whoever these thugs answered to, she did not want to meet them. She felt an irresistible urge to get away from the situation, and from somewhere deep within, the Alakka she used to be screamed at the prospect of being imprisoned.
This would not do. Not at all. She needed papers, so someone would have to sacrifice themselves for her. Alakka makes her decision. She quickly looks around, looking for some weak, but well-to-do individual for to bully for their papers. Her eyes pass Shrakk and Thorek, as they do not look suitable.
She finally settles on a lone merchant. Passing below the sight of the crowd, she corners the merchant. "You. You know what I want. Give them to me. Now." She sniffs the air. "Ahh. Got your scent. Can't hide from me no more. Better do it quickly, or else I'll find ya and eat ya."
"I'm sure he's fighting for his freedom or to prove he's not a worthless abomination. Unfortunately, he's wrong."
Kk'Thkk swift movement belies his size. He darts behind the cover of the cart, snatching the chatchka – elven – and notes the flat terrain surrounding them. The only feature are some deep red rocks on the nearside to him. He spies a flicker of movement.
From the other side of the cart, the original attackers leap up from the sand – two elves, who had apparently been hiding under camoflague. The frustration on their faces in that split-second shows they know they have lost the element of surprise – the 'kreen surmises that shot was a moment too early.
From behind the rocks two more elves rise, one screaming imprecations in elvish across the gap between the ambushing parties. If it wasn't for the blood streaming into the sand from the soft-flesh cart master, it would almost be comical. Two elves, one on either side of the wagon, throw a chatchka each, each finding a mark (5 damage to each PC).
Kk'Thkk springs into action.
Next Up: Kk'Thkk
On Deck: Elf Scout
Kk'thkk's Per check saved you from a surprise round against you...
Stats:
Elf Sniper 2 (S9) 1/1HP, AC 17, Fortitude 13, Reflex 17, Will 16
Kk'Thkk (L8) 18/23HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 13, Will 15, Surges: 7 (value: 5), AP:1
Elf Scout (S8) 39/39HP, AC 16, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Elf Peddler (H9) 34/34HP, AC 16, Fortitude 12, Reflex 15, Will 15
Severin (M8) 24/29HP, AC 18, Fortitude 17, Reflex 14, Will 12, Surges 11 (value: 7), AP: 1
Map:
"The wine is just fine, my good man. We appreciate you bringing out your newest bottle instead of one of those dusty, old ones you keep in the cellar." His grin is infectious, isn't it?
"Tell me, friend, is business normally like this or is it a slow shift?"
Streetwise: 1d20+3 = 13
My sources seem uncertain :P
The innkeeper smiles slightly nervily.
"Ah, it's a quiet season...the elf market is quiet, you know how it is..."
He looks carefully at both of his guests.
"How are you finding the wine?"
So. Both of you, roll Endurance, the DC is 13. You can also roll Perception if you want.
Endurance: 1d20+0 = 12
Curses!
As the Templar staggers backwards, Shaan and Tiron have one last moment to enact their plans before the troops get over their shock.
You get a surprise round, then initiative kicks in. See map for key notes.
Stats:
Mul 1 (J9) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14
Mul 2 (K9) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14
Mul 3 (L9) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14
Mul 4 (K10) 1/1HP, AC 20, Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 14
Templar 1 (I8) 106/106HP, AC 24, Fortitude 22, Reflex 22, Will 23
Tiron (K7) 24/24HP, AC 15, Fortitude 11, Reflex 13, Will 15, Surges: 7 (value:6), AP: 1
Templar 3 (M8) 106/106HP, AC 24, Fortitude 22, Reflex 22, Will 23
Shaan (J5) 28/28HP, AC 19, Fortitude 19, Reflex 13, Will 14, Surges: 10 (value: 7), AP: 1
Map:
Black dots mark doors to the street; the limit of the grey elsewhere is solid wall. If you can reach a map edge I'll count you as escaped.
Re Kaala, I'm counting her as a maguffin here – she is near Shaan or in the same square. Basically, she's wherever she's needed. If Shaan escapes, she does too.
K'tak almost answers the question reflexively, before thinking on it and realizes there was something off about the wine. He suddenly suspected the shiftless innkeeper had spiked it. He lets fly a stream of blistering invective in kreen, but knows he'd drunk to much already to free from whatever was in it.
Shrakk watches Alakka, considering moving to stop her but figuring it would only draw attention to all of them. With a slow exhale he looks around for perhaps something to club up onto, or another spot he could otherwise hide in.
The slave response to the attack on their leader is swift. Three pursue Nikela across the battlefield (7, 9, 11), surrounding her, but only one manages to see through the shadows surrounding her to strike true (5 damage).
Other slaves (8 and 10) continue the assault on the guard, who manages to fend one club off, but takes a hard blow to the back from the other (7 damage). A psychic blast from the halfling has only a negligible effect on the guard, who shrugs off all the abuse to follow his commander's lead. In a truly heroic effort, he shoves off the mob surrounding him, taking only one glancing blow from them (7 damage) as he charges the halfling.
With a mighty heft, he brings his halberd down at the halfling's face; the wilder manages to duck away from the blow, but still takes a very deep glancing cut in his shoulder (17 damage!) and knocking him prone.
The exhaustion tells on the brave soldier, because whilst he pulls back his halberd for the coup de grace, he fails to hear a slave (5) approaching him from behind, who strikes a killing blow (5 damage). Another slave (6) leaves his comrade to help their leader, and moves towards Nikela.
The Templar knows she has only moments left to deal with this rebellion, and she's going to have to be daring. Does she go after the wilder? Does she attempt defilement as a means to slaughtering the slaves? Or does she go for another route?
Stats:
Halfling Wilder (L9) 10/38HP, AC 15, Fortitude 14, Reflex 15, Will 16 {bloodied, prone}
Nimble Reaction (+2 to AC vs Oas); Combat Advantage (+1d6 damage with CA)
[strike]Guard 1 (K6-K9 Widowmaker) 4/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2)[/strike] Killed by Slave 5
[strike]Guard 2 0/47HP, AC 18, Fort 16, Ref 15, Will 14 (Reach 2)[/strike] Killed by Slave 4
[strike]Slave 1 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 2 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 1
[strike]Slave 3 0/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2
[strike]Slave 4 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11[/strike] Killed by Guard 2
Slave 5 (J7-J6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 6 (M7-H3) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Nikela (O3-I1) 11/32HP, AC 12, Fort 16, Ref 12, Will 14, Surges: 11 (value: 8), AP: 0, {concealment, bloodied}
Slave 7 (N7-I2) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 8 (K7) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 9 (O6-J2) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 10 (L7-L6) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
Slave 11 (O5-J1) 1/1HP, AC 13, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 11
All have Labourer's Resilience, and stay standing for a turn after being “killed”. All have Strength In Numbers, and gain +1 to damage rolls for each ally adjacent to target.
Map:
The leader of the thugs turns his to his flanker, who is desperately trying to keep out of the range of the spirit's horns.
“Soren, you idiot, throw your knife at the outcast! No argument! I'm going to help Tomen with the bloodfilth.”
Soren proceeds to, and with an unerring accuracy borne from terror, the dagger strikes home (6 damage), cutting deep into Amdir's thigh. Meanwhile, below, the half-elf continues to fight for life, scoring a bloody line into Tomen's leather jerkin (4 damage).
The lead elf keeps to his plan and moves up beside the half-blood, and both he and Tomen wound their victim (3 damage each). Though he is still standing, the half-elf is obviously on his last legs.
Stats:
Elf 1 (P3-L4) 39/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Elf 2 (M5) 23/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Amdir (R2) 5/28HP, AC 13, Fortitude 14, Reflex 11, Will 15, Surge: 10 (value: 7), AP: 1 {bloodied}
Spirit Companion (P2) (when shaman moves, may move shaman's speed)
Elf 3 (O2) 32/39HP, AC 15, Fortitude 13, Reflex 15, Will 13
Map:
K'tac's insults might have been in 'kreen, but their meaning was clear. In response, the innkeeper smiles.
The two travellers both spotted the drug in the wine too late. For all their best efforts, they both feel their eyes closing. Targan stays awake long enough to see Kk'thkk slump to the floor heavily, before he too finds the compulsion overwhelming, and falls into a dreamless sleep.
The two wake with a sudden jolt. A quick look-around tells them they are lying on wooden boards. Both are tied and chained securely; their captors have even gone to the effort of tying all four of the thri-kreen's arms together, with his feet in a separate loop. Apart from their own bonds, they are each chained to rungs in the floor.
Above them is a canvas sheet on an oval frame; so they were in a cart. They had obviously been woken by the cart coming to a stop. They hear movement from what they can discern was the front of the cart, round to the back.
“So what have you brought us, citizen?” a baritone voiced asks neutrally.
“Two items. One entomological, one normal,” responds a fawning voice – the innkeeper's.
“Here – a square piece for each.”
There is the ceramic clink of a coin bag being taken and opened.
“We agreed two square pieces each! You said -” the innkeeper squeaks, before his business partner cuts in.
“King Kalak thanks you for your good work. Now leave. We will return the cart in the next few days.”
The captives hear the beginning of a protest from the innkeeper – but their former host has the sense to curb his tongue, and his scurrying off follows soon thereafter.
Feel free to RP for a post, and then roll Endurance again to resist the sleeping agent - DC 13. Failure means you crash again.
As K'tac feels the fog in his head briefly lift, he surveys his surroundings. Though the innkeeper ran a terrible business, he seemed to know his restraints. The thri'kreen shifted futilely in his bindings.
Seeing the human coming to he says quietly, "Well Targan. We are now comrades in adverssity."
He tries once more find shift himself but is overcome by the remnants of whatever drug the innkeeper used.
Jaren quickly assesses the situation. The two gladiators by the stall both wield short swords. The younger mul mightn't want a fight with Jaren, but he does look like he has a trick up his sleeve.
The mul slave gives Jaren a crooked grin, before turning towards his lord, who is evidently seeking to ignore the trader's cries.
“My lord Verrasi! Werner and I have exposed two blackguards who planned to rob you! We seek your judgement!”
Verrasi turns round fully. He is tall, balding, with an aquiline nose. There is a sneering set to his features. Striding over, with two more armed slaves trailing, he sizes up the “culprits”. The four other members of his retinue start on crowd control, isolating the area around the stall.
He sizes up Jaren, and hisses, “Is this true? Do you dare to plot against Senator Verrasi?”
No-one notices the peculiar outlander woman who has drifted to the edge of the escalating situation.
Feel free to check Streetwise re: who Verrasi might be, both of you.
Amdir winces in pain as the dagger lands in his thigh. He fires a return shot, but it also goes high, again. As much as it ashamed him to admit it, he had gotten his ass kicked here. He could barely keep himself up and running, much less help that poor stranger. If this was all the spirits had to show him here he'd gladly leave this forsaken place and never come back. With a heavy heart, he makes his way down the alley with his companion in tow.
Standard: Ranged Basic Attack vs Elf 3 AC
Attack: 1d20+3: 10
Move: Flee down the alley
3DS Code: 5043-2172-1361
Xbone Tag: Salal al Din
The elf thugs leave Amdir to run; they are more interested in finishing off their original quarry, and have learned a wary respect for his spirit companion.
Once he is sure there is no pursuit, Amdir finds time to consider where to go next.
He could try to leave the city by the Caravan Gate, preferring to get out into the wild sooner rather than later; if he wants to sleep first, the best place for an elf to go is somewhere in the Elven Quarter, the depths of which he is currently in; there are numerous options if he's looking for a job straight away.
Amdir ponders.
Out of initative. 25 XP for good intentions. Where next? Just give a general indication and I can fill in the details.
Jaren cursed his quick tongue, he should have taken his drubbing and moved on to the next day without an incident. Something about these cretins rubbed him the wrong way though. Fancy clothes or no, this twit wouldn't last a day in the depths of the mountains. Time to try to play nice though....though Jaren was a bumpkin, he had heard a thing or two about the senators and this one in particular.
Jaren was never a great talker though, but at least he wouldn't embarrass himself today. Jaren thought before replying with a slight bow, "I plot nothing your excellency, other than buying fruit for my journeys. I believe your man here means well by ya, but he is mistaken. I am no blackguard or thief; I am a simple nomad. You are a great man though, so I hope we can go our separate ways in peace and I can stop wasting your valuable time."
He turns to the young mul, "Ya may want to work on your reflexes a bit if ya want ta serve your master well. Ya run into a bad sort like ya did me and my mate here, and ya mighta ended up flattened. Then the good senator is down a man. Good thing I'm such a nice bloke, yeah?"