Trick or Treat 1
Log Info
- Title: Trick or Treat 1
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Venom, Gregor, Aimarra, Gadget, Shilde, Imane
- Place: H03: Eldwyn Road
- Time: Sunday, October 11, 2020, 4:07 PM
- Summary: Lt. Trygve of the Alexandrian Guards has contracted an Adventurer's Group to deal with some bandits out at the Bendywine River bridge on Eldwyn Road. Aimarra is convinced the kobolds are back, and wants payback. The others are willing to be ride inside the honeypot coach, or follow along hidden in the woods, to provide a weak seeming target. Venom and Gadget are the passengers, Gregor disguised as a footman, and Imane, Aimarra and Shilde in the woods. Shilde vanishes mysteriously before the bandits are found, but they are found, and battle ensues. The coachis attacked by an all female goblinoid group, with a leather-clad bugbear, a fancifully dressed laughing hobgoblin, and four spider-rider gobbos. Immediately, things turn terrible for the goblins. Their hiding positions aren't great, Gregor kills thehobgoblin leader, and is caught in her exploding pumpkin bomb, and Aimarra, and Venom swiftly one-shot the gobbos. The greatest threat seems to be the Musky Husky Bugbear, who beats Gadget nearly to death with her morningstar then climbs into the coach, promising to eat Venom. Gregor rides to the rescue and explodes her like a pinyatta with a well placed thrust. The spiders also attack, but most seem to eat their riders, or the coach horse. These are dealt with, a map found, the area searched and the bodies brought back to Alexandria. It's not clear what is going on, but the map showed a lot of potential hiding spots for would-be-bandits. Sadly, the temting treat turned out to be a nasty trick.
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THe Eldwyn Road meanders continuously around hills, wilderness, and farmland, though it is occasionally broken by fingerlets from the great Tornmawr. At one point, the road crosses the Tornmawr itself, which takes place by use of a ferry.
Further east and past the ferry are the great Redridge Mountains. These mountains, which run mostly north and south, charge through the landscape, and even through the eastern end of the Lord's City of Alexandria.
Towards the south is the city, with its flags rising far above the walls. The fiery Rising Phoenix almost glows in the sunlight and airships may be seen both in flight and in dock, as they make use of a carefully sculpted section of the Redridge.
Towards the north, the landscape of rolling hills and farmland breaks into denser forest.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Venom 5'6" 130 Lb Human Female A woman(?) about 5'6" in a ragged black veil and poncho. Gregor 6'2" 248 Lb Hobgoblin Male A six-two Arvek with brown hair and a thick build. Aimarra 5'1" 128 Lb Half-Elf Female Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears. Gadget 3'6" 38 Lb Gnome Female Beautiful and unnatural. Shilde 4'4" 160 Lb Khazad-Aul Female Tall for a dwarf, long blonde hair in a thick braid, big blue eyes. Imane 5'6" 105 Lb Dawn Elf Female A very pale Elf in black shiny leather. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Some things are seasonal. Blackflies in the spring, bandits in the fall. The weather has turned and the highwaymen appear to have crawled out of the wormwood once more. The colours are coming out in the deciduous trees, creating a tapestry of yellows, oranges, reds and browns. The change signalling the last chance for the lazy to ambush some caravans and coaches before the cover disappears. Winter is coming, and with it the bare trees, poor hiding places, and temperatures that discourage lurking for hours in the hopes something soft will appear.
There are regular reports of banditry in the Eldwyn Forest at the bridge over the Bendywine river. These reports are strangely vague, giving at best numbers but not other details like the races involved, or the armament. The Alexandrian guards have contracted an Explorer's Guild mission to send out a honeypot coach. Something flying rich livery that moves quickly with minimal security, suggesting a skinflint aristocrat trusting speed over strength.
Enough details are given to allow the more woodsy types to disembark and sneak through the woods to get into position. Adventurers can ride inside, outside in disguise, or move through the woods. It's a couple hours outside of Alexandria to the bridge.
Inside the coack, the silent figure who via a pre-written list of words identified her/it(?)self as 'Venom' is seated with her dragonspitter held in her lap, concealed under the folds of her poncho. She makes no complaints, and only occassionally shifts in her seating from time to time.
Gregor looks like the standard sort of footman, riding on the back of the decoy coach. He stands on the running board in his sort of uniform-like gray coat and breastplate, looking out along the direction of travel, keeping a weather eye out for signs of danger. Traveller, his trusty steed, is lashed by a long lead to the rear of the coach as a remount might be, to take the place of a coach horse if one of the coach horses takes lame for some reason. All perfectly ordinary here. He's not in disguise so much as he's generic. A rental footman, then, or the like.
"If this is those damned kobolds with a thunderbelcher again, I'm going to throw every last one of them in the Tornmawr and I don't give a fuck, and that son of a bitch paying them can go right after them." Aimarra did not mince words on learning of the nature of their job, but had then sighed. "It's coin, I suppose, and I could use some. Fine, I'll do it, but I am _not_ riding on the carriage. I'll track you through the woods." The half-sil certainly looks like she's equipped to do so.
Gadget sounds like a clockwork knight in plate armor, even though she's barefoot. She has picked up a branch that's large for her to use as a makeshift quarterstaff or club. The dapper, clothed, albino capuchin walking next to her adopts various karate poses that would be intimidating on someone who wasn't shy of two feet tall. "Thunder-what?" Gadget says. "I mean--" she tries, looking at Mr. Jinglewidget. "Kobolds speak Draconic, right? I speak Draconic. We should be fine, right?" The monkey nods and makes an affirmative monkey sound. "Right. We'll just hope it's not that, anyway."
Shilde is left a little bit wide-eyed at Aimarra's vehement tirade.. a finger gets raised, then dropped. "Careful 'round that one, Rocky," she mutters lowly to the large dog with her. "We'll be followin' in ther woods too," she had also decided after getting a look at the rest of the folks hired for this mission. Which is how she and her dog ended off the trail, following the passage of the carriage... and staying out of the half-sil's way.
Imane nods listening to Aimarra and Shielde as she checks her bow and quiver, "Aye, the carriage is a big enough distraction. Circling around and catching the ambush in an ambush sounds like a plan."
Gregor peers at Aimarra, then at Gadget. "Kobolds?" he wonders. "Why would kobolds with a thunderbelcher be a problem? Something like that suggests a fixed position, and mobile warfare almost always trumps a fixed position. We'll surround them and root them out if that's an issue," he says thoughtfully.
The situation is disturbingly familiar to the half-elf ranger. It is that river, that bridge. The coach comes out of the forest to the south, rolling quickly with no apparent guards, only the hobgoblin disguised as a footman. The coach slows, allowing the rangers and druids to move into position.
Inside, conversation, such as it may be, is possible between the human and gnome passengers.
The coach has to move recklessly, that's part of the plan. Keep rolling until it's stopped or attacked. Spotting the ambush wouldn't change this, the driver has his instructions. This forced helplessnee increase the tenseion inside. It's the waiting, not knowing when something is going to happen, or what.
The coach turns northwards and rolls towards the bridge over the Bendywine.
Area Overview -Each row/col 20' * trees 'scrub .clear ~water ************************* ------------\************ ************|************ Tree ************|************ Line '''''''''''.|.''''''''''' '''''''''''.|.''''''''''' Scrub ''''''''''..|..''''''~~~~ ''''''~~~~~~|~~~~~~~~~~~~ ''''~~~~~~~~|~~~~~~~~~~~~ River ~~~~~~~~~~~~|~~~~~~~''''' ~~~~~'''''..|..'''''''''' ~~''''''''''|'''''''''''' ''''''''''''|'''''''''''' ************|************ ************|************ ************\------------ Road *************************
Venom seems to take being inside the target pretty well. Maybe it's the cushy seat. She answers any errant questions thrown her way with a shake or nod of her head, if she responds at all.
"You'll see what I mean if I'm right." Aimarra flat ignores Shilde, nodding to Imane and considering Gregor's horse. "Just watch yourself and your horse, if it's them, they use caltrops, and they're sometimes poisoned." Sounds like she's encountered these guys before, and she levels a frankly curious stare at Gadget and her clockworks. "You speak Draconic? Good. They'll lie like wet rugs if they think they have the upper hand, and flee for their lives if they don't."
That was the last thing she said before taking up her own position beside the carriage, disappearing into the brush as soon as things got moving. She's more than happy to keep an arrow nocked and the strung bow between her hands as she moves.
The river is sixty feet across, with a depth in the middle that reaches fifteen feet. The water is slow, and cold, but it's possible to ford it and sneak to the other side.
Gregor frowns at the lack of clear terrain. That's going to hinder him. He's a cavalry scout by trade, and not being mounted, not being able to take advantage of his mount, is bothersome. But he's signed on for this, so he'll see it through. He rides the back of the coach, looking at the terrain critically as it moves on, watching for those signs of ambush.
Shilde disappears with her dog into the woods. Deep, into the woods. She does not reappear.
GAME: Aimarra rolls stealth: (20)+6+2: 28
Gadget and Mr. Jinglewidget climb up and into the cart. No sense putting wear and tear on those clockwork joints if you don't have to. Gadget clings tightly to her stick while Mr. Jinglewidget aims a fierce karate pose at every passing piece of too-tall scrubgrass. "It's gonna be okay," Gadget informs him. "We're gonna be okay."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+10: (4)+10: 14 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+2: (15)+2: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (11)+7: 18 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (20)+7: 27 GAME: Venom rolls perception-5: (18)+7+-5: 20 GAME: Gregor rolls perception: (5)+8: 13 GAME: Gadget rolls Perception-5: (9)+3+-5: 7 GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (19)+10: 29
The goblinoids are not even trying! There is a leather clad bugbear at the far end of the bridge, hiding, and a flamboyantly clad hobgoblin, and three spider riders at the NE, NW, SW corners in the scrub... and there's one about ten feet from the elf also hiding in the scrub, practicaly beside her.
Gregor raps on the side of the stagecoach that he's riding on the back of, calling, "Looks like company." He'll reel in the lead his horse is on, so he can try to hop astride as we roll along if the people he's spotted turn out to be our expected bandits. If they're just out on a date, well, false alarm.
Imane moves off the road into the underbrush and treeline if it's close enough to the road, either way she doens't venture far from the road in case of a trap springing, but she will try and remain out of sight.
Venom seems to catch sight of something through the curtains. She makes a soft whistle before bringing her pointer to what would probably be the lower part of her face under that veil with a 'shhhhh!' as a couple of ratcheting clicks beneath the poncho accompanies her other thumb drawing back the hammer.
Maybe Aimarra simply knew what to look for. Maybe she already knows this area far too well. But, when they'd started moving, she had flat _vanished_ from view. Now, though, from out of nowhere by the bank of the river, a rock comes flying out of the scrub, aimed at something a few feet from its origin point, followed by the call, "By the holy Hunter's bow, if you're going to set up an ambush, could you at least try not to suck at it? There's a bugbear and a hobgoblin at the far side of the bridge and a spider rider at each corner, and they're lousy hiders. Come out and play!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "make an athletics DC10 to get across Imane" GAME: Imane rolls athletics: (13)+8: 21
Positions are taken up, the half-elf ranger is in the scrub just south of the bridge, placing her twenty feet from the foot, and eight from the opposite side. She has good arcs of fire, but it simply isn't possible to get closer. The areas at the ends of the bridge have been cleared and cut low. Imane made it across the river, and moved up through the scub.
A mysteriously thrown rock stirs a spider, a spider with a rider out of the underbrush to the southeast of the bridge. She's visible to all outside the coach. Then Aimarra gives their game away completely as she calls out her positions.
Inside, there's nothing to do but wait. The regular sound of the wheels change as the coach mounts the bridge and the smooth stone makes them quieter. It rides up, hits the midpoint, starts down. The view from inside is unsettling. There's glimpses of other goblins on giant spiders hiding in the underbrush, a hobgoblin peeking out from the southern foot of the bridge, and something furry and clad in leather moving out of the shadows at the north end.
"Halt!"
A deep, husky voice calls out, as the tall figure moves to block the coach. To emphasize the command, she throws a javelin which strikes the driver. Spider-riders pop out of the scrub, the two on the north bank firing short-bows into him, the two on the south pointing their bows at the footman.
A hobgoblin, in flamboyant, flashy clothes scurries around to block the retreat of the coach. She's holding a jack-o-lantern in her hand, complete with lit candle inside. It has a grin as wide as hers, full of sharp teeth. She leers at Gregor, "Trick or Treat!"
************************* ------------\************ ************|************ Tree ************|************ Line '''''''''''.|.''''''''''' '''''''''''.|.''''''''''' Scrub '''''''''1..B..2I''''~~~~ ''''''~~~~~~C~~~~~~~~~~~~ ''''~~~~~~~~|~~~~~~~~~~~~ River ~~~~~~~~~~~~H~~~~~~~''''' ~~~~~''''3..|..4''''''''' ~~''''''''''|'A'''''''''' ''''''''''''|'''''''''''' ************|************ ************|************ ************\------------ Road *************************
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1: (17)+7: 24 GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d6+2: (4)+2: 6
As the riders fire, Aimarra draws her bow smoothly and lets fly into the rider closest to her, dropping it with a scream into the scrublands. "Try harder next time." She then turns her attention to the hobgoblin, and to the other rider, debating between targets. "I'll give you something good to eat, you maggot-eating son of a camel turd."
Someone is in a rip-roaring mood.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Fast mount is DC20, so you'd need to use the action"
GAME: Gregor rolls ride: (5)+11: 16
<OOC> Cryosanthia: Gregor, the two Spider Riders' held action was 'Shoot the footman if he does anything.
You're moving, So they shoot as Aimarra shoots one of them.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (15)+3: 18
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (6)+3: 9
Gregor is trying to reel his mount in as the trap is sprung, but it's all he can do to get everything into position, his leap into the saddle is much more tentative and frought with delays and repositionings than he'd originally planned on. But finally he's able to cast off the lead, and he'll wheel around to face the enemies behind us.
The remaining two spider riders loose their arrows. The shots go wide. One falls to Aimarra's shot, slumping forward in the saddle.
GAME: Venom rolls weapon1-6: (20)+6+-6: 20 (THREAT) GAME: Venom rolls weapon1-6: (16)+6+-6: 16 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "hit but not crit" GAME: Venom rolls 1d8: (8): 8
As the 'Stand and Deliver' sphiel ensues, with much thunk-thunk-thunk, the shrouded figure brings up a a filligreed 'spitter of a macabre elegance and, in a single, flowing motion, the barrel lines up on one of the spider riders. With a single, sharp, buzzing report, a tapered hunk of polished steel is violently nesting in the little goblin's heart.
The back of the coach is twenty five feet from the south end of the bridge, where the Laughing Hobgoblin is. The remaining SpiderRider is at the edge of the clear area, another thirty feet away from the hob.
<OOC> Gregor says, "Mounted charge the hob" <OOC> Gregor says, "WIth power attack" GAME: Gregor rolls 1d20+9: (15)+9: 24 GAME: Gregor rolls 2d8+20: (5)+20: 25
Gregor nudges Traveller in the ribs as he couches his lance. He always wanted to be a lancer, but his lack of proper hobgoblin breeding relegated him into the lesser ranks of the light cavalry, where he spent most of his time as a scout. But the will is plain to see as he charges the hobgoblin with the pumpkin, his horse pounding the bridge as he lowers the adamantine-tipped lance. It's a short charge, as such things are reckoned, and it ends up catching the hobgoblin straight through the chest, his lancehead driving straight through with a wet thunk sound as he's plowed off his feet by the momentum. Gregor twitches his lance to shake the body off and looks to see who else may want some of this.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (18): 18 GAME: Gregor rolls reflex: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6: (5): 5 GAME: Bomb Pumpkin damaged Gregor for 5 points. 50 HP remaining. GAME: Bomb Pumpkin damaged Gregor's companion for 5 points. 32 HP remaining.
"Well I guess it's going to be Tr...glrk!" The laughing hobgoblin's taunts are cut off. She drops like a sheet to the ground. The pumpkin she was holding explodes.
Fire! Everywhere. Glowing strands of bright orange and yellow.
Strands that are... sticky? The foot of the bridge is engulfed of a web of flames. Gregor and his steed are trapped in it, tendrils of flame wrapped around them, holding them down.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1: (16)+7: 23 GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d6+2: (4)+2: 6
"...or I'll get beaten to it." Aimarra winces as the lantern explodes nastily, but she's now trapped on this side of the river. Well, there are still targets she can reach. She levels the bow at the spider rider across the river from her, and as before, one well-placed shot later, another one bites the dust, slumping in her saddle with a feathered shaft through her eye.
Say this for the ranger, that bow backs up her mouth.
Gadget holds her stick tightly, the wood straining as she hears the sounds of battle. She stands ready to smack at anything, but isn't moving out from her nice, relatively safe spot just yet.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (9)+3: 12
The goblins are shot with deadly efficiency, dropping from Venom's and Aimarra's attacks. Only a sole one remains. She spurs her mount, and the eight legged freak scuttles along the side of the bridge. The goblin leans, firing into the coach. "You should have given us treats! Everyone loves candy!"
Arrows, not so much. She misses.
GAME: Venom rolls weapon1: (18)+6: 24 GAME: Venom rolls 1d8: (7): 7
A huff through the figure's nose ruffles her veil as Venom's first target crumples. The arrow coming in from the other side is impetus for her to thumb the catches of her dragonspitter, which breaks downward ahead of the trigger guard while her other hand retrieves another tapered cyllinder of polished steel, which is dropped into the reciever. As Venom brings her weapon about to answer the shot, she flicks her wrist and the weapon swings closed, hammer ratcheting back under her thumb in time for another sharp, slight bussy report that takes the goblin in the side, spilling her from the saddle.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (12)+5: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d8+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Husky Bugbear damaged Gadget for 9 points. 12 HP remaining. GAME: Gadget rolls Melee -4: (4)+1+-4: 1
Gadget sees the door open and just swings immediately. Her stick impacts the side of the doorframe before she becomes acutely aware of the swinging of a large, metal ball on a chain. In an instant she is acutely aware of pain. She can't see for a few seconds, and her clockwork limbs falter. As her sight flickers back, she drops to her knees and puts her clockwork arms over her head, which hurt worse even than the snakebite poisons. Mr. Jinglewidget tries to pull her away from the door, but there's only so far the two can go.
The bugbear that stopped the coach charges up beside it, throwing open the door.
The bugbear is the largest of the goblinoid races, a lumbering brute that stands at least a head taller than most humans. They are loners, who prefer smaller-scale mayhem that lets them keep their favorite acts on a more personal level. Humans are a bugbear's favored prey, and favourite food. This girl is no exception, she has a grisly trophy necklace of ears and fingers.
Her huge, learing face leans in as she swings for the first thing she sees. The gnome, Gadget. "Ha!"
The spiked ball of her morning star wacking the little woman.
"Oh human! Yummy!" The husky goblinoid said, laying eyes on Venom and grinning. It's obvious where her next attack is going.
GAME: Imane rolls weapon1: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Imane rolls 1d8+3: (2)+3: 5
Imane takes up her bow and aims at the visible part of the hobgoblin hitting the goblinoid in the shoulder, injuring it but it isn't dead.
The laughing hobgobling is not laughing very much anymore, and her trick backfired. And front fired. Fire everywhere. Her corpse burns gruesomely.
GAME: Gregor rolls 1d8+7: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6: (2): 2 GAME: Pumpkin Fire damaged Gregor for 2 points. 48 HP remaining. GAME: Pumpkin damaged Gregor's companion for 2 points. 30 HP remaining.
Gregor acks as he's locked in place by the tangly goop, and aflame. A light cavalryman's first instinct is mobility, so he squints his eyes to avoid the flames and, letting his lance go and drawing his fancy longsword, he hacks at the stiffening flamey mess, chipping enough away that Traveller can sort of step away from it.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1: (4)+7: 11
Aimarra's next target is the nasty-looking bugbear on the far side of the coach, and her bowstring twangs again. Her luck ran out on that shot, though, if luck it was, and the feather shaft flies harmlessly into the trees on the far side. "Hold still, you little..." she growls.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "looks like: Coach Horse, Imane, Gregor, Rider" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+2: (8)+2: 10
The Spider-Riders are down. Their spiders are not. The spiders are loyal, well-trained beasts, at least as much as spiders can be. They aren't the brightest, and they are hungry.
One sproings at the Coach horse, which whinneys in terror and tries to escape as it fastens onto its neck.
Two spiders as they scuttle about dislodge their fallen masters. How lucky! Food! Right in front of them. They sink fangs in and start to feast, draining blood.
The remaining spider charges at Gregor, or perhaps his horse. Maybe the flames confused it, looked edible. In any case the cavalry hob is unscathed. It bites and misses.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (14)+5: 19 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8+3: (7)+3: 10 GAME: Husky Bugbear damaged Gadget for 10 points. 2 HP remaining.
Gadget rushes. Mr. Jinglewidget jumps onto her back as she grabs the hem of her cloak with both hands, running past the bugbear. She can feel something crack as the morning star smashes against her, but she doesn't stop. She may never stop.
GAME: Venom rolls weapon0-2: (6)+3+-2: 7 GAME: Venom rolls weapon0-2: (5)+3+-2: 6 GAME: Venom spends ONE use of STUNNING FIST.
With the door suddenly opening, and a flurry of shaggy kinda smelly anger comes through with the steel-studded pain for the ticking Gnome, Venom is encouraged to respond. With a heel thrust ineffectually thrust at what could be some tender bits on a bugbear if it connected, is followed by a quick palm-heel strike for the lock of the jaw that only seems to get a piece of her bad breath. Clearnly she needs more training in carriages.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL)
The husky bugbear chuckles as she swings her morning star at the fleeing gnome and connects. Her real interest is the yummy looking human facing off against her. She pulls her weapon back.
Thunk
She gets the doorframe, and has to yank it free.
Perhaps she needs some in-carriage fighting training.
GAME: Imane rolls weapon1: (7)+6: 13
Imane takes another shot at the bugbear but it dodges Venom's attacks and in so doing, moves at just the right moment so that Imane's arrow thunks into the carriage door frame instead of the bugbear.
The scent of burning hobgoblin flesh is sadly, all to familiar to some. The body burns more, even after the fire dies down.
<OOC> Gregor will hack at the spider that attacked him <OOC> Gregor says, "With power attack" GAME: Gregor rolls 1d20+8: (20)+8: 28 (THREAT) GAME: Gregor rolls 1d20+8: (8)+8: 16 (confirmed) GAME: Gregor rolls 2d8+14: (7)+14: 21
Gregor 's horse Traveller rears as the spider attacks. Gregor, longsword in hand, picks his target: the spider's head, right between the eight eyes. He strikes with a viscious stroke of his long blade, bright steel cleaving the giant insect in two, or cleaving part of it in two. That's enough to stop it from attempting to eat him, at least, and he takes a look to see how everyone else is doing.
Near Aimarra, a spider is eating its rider. On the bridge at the carriage, there is a Bugbear half in it, and another spider eating its rider. Also, a spider trying to eat the coach horse - that's opposite side of the bridge to the elf. Gregor's spider just died.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1-2: (12)+7+-2: 17 GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d6+2: (6)+2: 8
Some would call the carnage and chaos a target-rich environment. Aimarra calls it a mess, but that doesn't stop her from surveying it and identifying her next target. It probably isn't a good thing to let the spider eat the coach horse, and the bugbear already has company, so she turns and levels her bow at the spider. The shot is not perfect, but it's good enough, sinking itself deeply into the spider and giving it something else to think about.
Gadget sprints away. Her tiny, clockwork legs strain to keep up with the magic coursing through them as she leaves the sounds of pain and death away. Her head pounds, her skull almost certainly cracked, along with at least one rib. Mr. Jinglewidget clings to her from his spot in her arms as she flees, watching the carnage unfold. Funny how the fighting never seems as bad from a distance. He just watches for anyone following Gadget. His heart races as hers does, the adrenaline and fear shared between them. As Gadget turns the corner in the road, he loses sight of everything and he buries his face in her shoulder while she runs.
Spiders... spiders...
Well, they are giant, hairy monsters with too many eyes.
They seem to occupied with their meals. Two continue to drain their riders, the other concentrates on the coach horse. Even Aimarra's arrow doesn't dissuade it.
And the one attacking Gregor, well, it never even had time to recognize its error.
GAME: Venom rolls weapon0: (9)+3: 12 GAME: Venom rolls weapon0: (12)+3: 15
Well, on the upside, with the Gnome and company out of the way, the veiled human has more room to move, and her strikes, still somewhat constrained, are at least getting closer to the mark.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (7)+5: 12
There is more room, until the husky bugbear crawls in. The coach tilts from her weight, fills with her musky stench. She's got a lot of fur, stuffed into tight leather armour, and that necklace of fingers and ears. There are a lot of unrecognizeable things matted into the beast, but her goblin grin shines bright.
She swings! Thunk! her morning star bounces off the ceiling and misses Venom.
With the doors closed it's a tight, reeking cage match.
Stickly sweet smoke rises from the southern foot of the bridge.
GAME: Gregor rolls 1d20+9: (19)+9: 28 (THREAT) GAME: Gregor rolls 1d20+9: (19)+9: 28 (Confirmed) GAME: Gregor rolls 2d8+14: (11)+14: 25
Gregor sees the battle is stilll not over. He rides up to the coach, kicking open the door with one cavalry boot, and before the surprised bugbear can react, he thrusts his sword into her back. Venom gets an up close view of her expression. It is ... surprised. "Can you hit the spider attacking the horse?" he asks her. Not that she'll reply. But she's not deaf, he's pretty sure.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1-2: (5)+7+-2: 10
Again Aimarra lets fly, trying to take out the spider before it can kill the frightened and screaming horse it is trying to eat, but in an effort not to hit the horse, her arrow flies off harmlessly into the trees on the north bank. Sclrurrp. Sclurrrp. Sclurrp.
The noises of the spiders liquifying their prey's insides, then drinking it, is disturbing and unsettling.
The coach horse, sways on its hooves, the poison taking effect.
The Spider Rider Gobbos, well, they're little green spider juiceboxes now.
GAME: Venom rolls weapon0: (4)+3: 7
As the sword comes through the bugbear, the veiled one relaxes her stance for a moment, head turning to glance past her would be killer to her savior on his words. A nod, and a thumb's up, and she scoots on out the door, heavy boots scraping against the stone of the bridge. Venom comes around the front of the buffet and thrusts a mule kick at the bug, but, unused to facing such things, ends up putting her heel down between it's legs, instead.
The husky bugbear is not a pinyatta, but she explodes like one as Gregor shoves a sword into her back. That crusty bodice must have been on very tight.
She also, isn't full of candy. The red and grey stringy things, and red and purple and grey lumps that were inside her, aren't party favours. They, and a lot of her blood are all over the interior of the coach.
And Venom.
It's a little more personal than one would like. It's going to be difficult to scrub out, of fabric and memories.
Two arrows fly, striking the spider in two of its many eyes. It's enough, it curls up into a ball -a large ball- and falls off the coach horse. Dead. Its only crime was wanting dinner and choosing poorly.
The other two spiders seem happily occupied, and if left alone, wander off once they are done drinking.
Success!
Several corpses, a coach that would be cheaper to sell than clean, and a sense of... something.
It's a nice evening, wind rustling through the trees. The bandits dropped like flies, appropriate, for the season.
Gregor winces as his swordthrust splatters gore on Venom. That wasn't the plan. But these things happen in battle. With the slaying of the spider, he looks around. "Are we all okay?" he asks. "Where's the little one, she was hurt? Did she duck for cover?" For himself, he will ride forward and dismount, speaking calmingly to the carthorse. He can't heal it, but he -can- talk with it, calming it as much as he can while it fights off the spider's poison.
The coach horse is badly poisonned. It will survive, but it is weak. Too weak to pull. Gergor's words do comfort it. The horse apologizes to the hobgoblin, it doesn't know what is wrong. It's tired, wants to sleep, can't pull. It's sorry.
"Not a scratch," Aimarra says, lowering the bow as the last one drops. Squeezing around the blocked bridge proves a more difficult task, but not impossible now that the fight is over. "I have no idea," she shrugs at Gregor's question, "she'll catch up or she won't. The horse okay, or do we need to put it down?"
Venom, still kinda drippy from the bugbear, edges back from the horse as the cavalry hob rides up in the wake of the spider's death. She reloads her gun before holstering it, then fishes out a notepad and charcoal. Scrtich-scribble-scribble-scratch-scritch. She presents, in a well trained hand:
Last I saw of her, she was fleeing with her monkey.
The Bendywine river gurgles quietly beneath the bridge. The water passing to never be seen here again.
Gregor winces as the horse admits it's tired, and he can see the effects of the poison. He will unharness it and reluctantly ask his own horse to fill in. "Another labor for you, Traveller," he tells it. To Aimarra, he offers a shrug and asks the horse, "Can you walk with us back to town? We will go slowly." To Aimarra, he says, "He wants rest, but knows this is a bad place." He hrms at Venom's note, winces at her gory appearance. "We've got a river right here. It's getting late in the season, but I think it's not too cold yet to wash up." He will hitch up his horse to the wagon and head back to retrieve his lance. "I suppose we ride back, then. I would say you may as well all ride, as I think we are done here, but you may find riding on top less ... sticky."
The look in the horse's eyes tells Gregor it can. It will follow him, it can keep up. Despite the poison, it is a determined equine. Aimarra peers at the handwritten note, and snorts disdainfully. 'Ran the second the uglies showed up. So ... can't help but wonder where this lot came from. Pretty well organized.' She nods at Gregor's description of the horse. 'Naw, I'll hoof it, no sense in making it pull more than it has to.'
It's then that she peers at Venom. "Hi, do you use the handspeech?" <handspeech>
A search of the bodies produces nothing useful. There is a something which might have been a map, on the body of the not-laughing-anymore hobgoblin.
The driver lives, barely. Expecting to be a target he was well armoured and layered with a second set beneath the first and padding between, making the slim man look rather stout. It was barely sufficient to stop the javelins and arrows from finishing him completely. With a little attention, he is stabilized.
Best if he rides on top too.
The map shows the area around this bridge, with some spots marked, but it's heavily burnt.
Gregor nods to Aimarra. "In her defense, she was injured pretty badly by the big one," he says. He's definitely one who pays attention to such things in a fight. He'll do a quick search to make sure she's not bleeding out somewhere, he doesn't want to leave her behind. The cart driver is placed atop the cart, wrapped in a couple blankets and tended as best Gregor can manage. But then it's turning the wagon around and riding back slowly. Traveller's a strong horse, if not a cart-horse, but he's going slow so as not to strain the injured horse too badly.
The explanation from the cavalryman prompts a slight cant to her head, a dip of the chin, then Venom's attention turns to the elf as she makes her signs. She tucks the notepad away and nods before her hands reemerge in gesture, "Please thank him." with a nod toward Gregor, then, "We should make sure this is all of them." <handspeech>
The coach rolls easily, bouncing gently on its springs. The driver breathes, it seems all that he is capable of. The coach horse, dutifully keeps up. The pace is slow. It's a strong horse, it will keep going.
The gnome is not found nearby. Bleeding out or otherwise. She is gone.
The spots on the map identify good ambush positions. Nothing about them indicates buried treasure. There are a few sets, indicating where to stage for an ambush closer to one forest or another.
The wind rustles the leaves, and the water keeps flowing by.
Aimarra nods at the response, seeming to immediately understand. "She says thank you," she tells Gregor, "and we should make sure this is all of them. Probably right, it's what we got paid to do, right? If you want to stay here, I can go back."
Gregor peers at the map for a moment, and he nods at Venom's signed reply. He's a scout, he knows how to use hand signals for communication when silence is necessary, so he nods to her and says, "No thanks necessary," before Aimarra can finish her translation. He looks around, decides, "I can move quickly, and you," he looks to Venom, "Fire the gun if there's trouble and I will ride back as quickly as I can." If there's no objection, Gregor will ride off to check the other locations as quickly as he can while maintaining a modicum of silence. Not perfect silence, but he's not galloping.
Venom looks between the two as they discuss the plan, giving a thumbs up to his return on her thanks, then, drawing her gun with a nod on the rest. She moves to get up on the front of the wagon, a knee on the bench and she looks around the area.
The terrain is difficult but it isn't hard to investigate the indicated areas. They are, as the map suggests, good spots with clear vantage points. Shifting over to one side of the other, the view isn't quite as good, the ground is lower, a bush more prominent, something is obstructing visibility. There are also some places with shallow depressions and camoflagued covers. Woven wicker shields with some branches in them, that match the turning leaves perfectly.
All spots are empty, some appear never to have been used at all. Although, they were made, which makes things suspicious. There is no such thing as a 'DIY Banditry' kit, but if there were, the map might be a part of one.
The cavalry hob returns, scouting successful, he's found great places to attack from and no one in them. Anymore. For today.
Gregor rides back, hitches Traveller back up to the wagon, reporting, "No enemies found." As he hitches his horse to the wagon, he'll describe what he saw. "Looks like all spots used by this one gang." He eyes the bodies, shrugs. As to the map locations, he explains, "I'd have put them to the torch, but likely that'd burn the whole area down. Best left to some druids, I expect. We'll let the Guild know."
Aimarra listens to the report, from where she'd assumed a watch spot on the driver's seat, arrow nocked. "Yeah, seems right. Give the map to the Guild and let them figure it out, we aren't being paid to do that. Let's go."
The spiders wander off. They'll find some nice spots in the trees to build some webs.
The rest of the bandit bodies are thrown in the coach. They leak, except for the hobgoblin, her body is more like cracklin. It just breaks. They haven't started to smell, much, yet.
It's a few hours back to Alexandria. Made longer, with the slower pace that is friendlier to the injured horse. There are no disturbances along the way. This coach wasn't bothered on the way out, and it looks much more heavily guarded now.
The guild is pleased, the mission considered a success. The coach rental business, less pleased. Perhaps they'll ask what it is being rented for next time. The reward is paid, dropped off by a lieutennant Trygve who spots the adventurers and waves, but does not linger to speak to them.
In support of the season, there is a pumpkin bowl carved in the shape of a jack-o-lantern. A mana-light spell makes the eyes and mouth glow. It's filled with small, boiled sweets that are wrapped up. The accountant nudges the bowl as she's handing out payment.
"Take a couple, for Trick or Treat."
Combatty Stuff
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
| Name | CHP (T) | HP |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
| Aimarra.......| 28 | 28 |
| Gregor........| 48 | 55 |
| (C) Traveller.| 30 | 37 |
| Imane.........| 15 | 15 |
| Venom.........| 18 | 18 |
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| Name | Race | Class | CHP | HP | AC/FF/T |CMD |For |Ref |Wil |
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|Aimarra |HALF-ELF |Rgr | 28 | 28 |20/17/14 | 19 | 5 | 6 | 3 |
|Gadget |GNOME |Sor | 21 | 21 |11/11/11 | 9 | 4 | 1 | 4 |
|Gregor |HOBGOBLIN |Rgr | 50 | 55 |22/19/13 | 21 | 8 | 7 | 1 |
|Imane |DAWN_ELF |Rgr/Rog | 15 | 15 |14/10/14 | 18 | 2 | 8 | 1 |
|Venom |HUMAN |Mnk/Rog | 18 | 18 |16/12/16 | 19 | 4 | 8 | 2 |
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===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 4 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
>> 16 Gregor 1 <<
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16 Aimarra 1
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16 Gadget 1
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11 SpiderRiders 1
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11 Venom 1
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10 Husky Bugbear 1
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7 Imane 1
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2 Laughing Hob 1
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