Eviction Notice, part 1
Log Info
- Title: Eviction Notice, part 1
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Tenoc, Glasha, Aimarra, Mercy
- Place: H01: Kultari Road
- Time: Monday, November 09, 2020, 1:50 PM
- Summary: Mercy, Inquisitrix of the Temple of Daeus, is sent to serve an Eviction Notice at the Waystation outside of Alexandria. Seems some squatters have moved in. Some backup is sent along with her, Tenoc, Aimarra and Glasha. The building itself is in mid-repair, and obviously has had work done before. Knocking on the door doesn't go well, as it prompts the squatters inside to rush out and attack. Mercy is dropped. Glasha almost dropped, escaping only because she turned invisible. Tenoc and Aimarra try to take the fight to the squatters, heading inside. The occupants are using the building effectively, forcing the party to climb up the scaffolding on the outside. Mercy is brought back to consciousness, and Tenoc leaps over the battlements into an ambush... that was set up for an entirely different direction, and he gains surprise. TBC
- APL: 3.5
- Encounters: CR6+ XP2800
- (1) CR1 XP400 Generic Thug as Crossbow-man
- (1) CR3 XP800 Sniper as the Elf Archer
- (1) CR1 XP400 Diseased Fighter as the Diseased Leader
- (1) CR1 XP400 Street Thug as the Second Ruffian
- (1) CR1 XP400 Skulking Brute as the Third Ruffian
- (1) CR1 XP400 Prostitue as the Nurse
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* H01: Kultari Road *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
From east to west, north to south, the Alexandrosian countryside weaves over hill, valley, and farmland. Kultari Road meanders through it at a comfortable pace. The roadside is lined with curbstones, their surfaces comfortably flat and warm, with sand pressed inbetween. At times construction meanders into dirt, and numerous pathways branch off here and there to different farmsteads.
Along this stretch is a waystation. Over its door is a carved marker with dual symbols of Gilead and Tarien, the patrons of travel and the meeting of wilderness-and-civilization, respectively. Not large, the waystation rests a comfortable ways from the main avenue, with a place for a firepit out front.
Towards the south, the sky and landscape darkens. The Felwood lies there, and an occasional screech from inhuman lungs may be heard.
Towards the east, the shining City of Alexandria.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Tenoc 7'0" 280 Lb Sith-Makar Male Tall, green-scaled Sith'Makar hunter Glasha 5'8" 100 Lb Half-Orc Female Green-skinned, young lady with bleached hair. Aimarra 5'1" 128 Lb Half-Elf Female Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears. Mercy 5'5" 150 Lb Human Female A platinum haired Aesir woman, in flamboyant black. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a simple enough assignment, serve an eviction notice.
The devil is of course, in the details. The notice has to be delivered in person, the location is several hours outside of Alexandria at the Way Station which has been under repair for long enough some squatters moved in. They should vacate immediately.
They might need some convincing.
It's a bit of a rough first assignment for a new inquisitrix in town, so the Temple of Daeus arranged some backup from the explorer's guild. She's not 'in charge', it's a group effort, though she gets the honour of handing over the writ. Which will be soon, the party has travelled along the road, the waystation is coming into sight. It looks abandonned, and buttoned up. It was originally clear for two hundred feet on all sides, and that remains the limit of the tree line, but some undergrowth has popped up on the sides that aren't closest to the road.
Tenoc's reason for being with the group is quite simple: he can be fiercely, viciously convincing if need be. Sharp fangs and sharper spear are all the proof needed of that! Thoughts wander though, the swirl of wind carrying the touch of the winter season coming soon, and the cold.
"Hssk. It will be good to be in Mictlan once more," he rumbles, shivering slightly. Bearing the chill, but certainly not liking it-- one still endures. He glances at the others, rugged and certain-- yet smoothskinned all. He chuffs, glancing back ahead with stoic composure.
Glasha looks about as official as she ever does, axe-staff standing intimidatingly beside her with the raven perched atop it. Green skin and tusks are usually a good boon to grunting one's way to intimidation, too, at least for those who don't know Glasha well. The rhythmic tunk-tunk-tunk of her purpleheart wood staff with a greataxe head atop it punctuates her movement, as her footsteps are nearly silent. Her hood is pulled up so the shadow covers her eyes. Yeah, so it's not really indicative of her personality, but it's not supposed to be.
"I've wandered into Mictlan once," she says to Tenoc. "Just like Goblintown, the locals were less than welcoming."
The study-in-browns half-sil with a bow on her back who identified herself as "Aimarra" has been perfectly cordial, if businesslike and rather laconic. "I didn't think Mictlan was that close," she offers to Tenoc at his mention of the place.
The Inquisitrix in question eyes the terrain, squinting at the forest line and undergrowth as she pulls on the brim of her hat to adjust against the shade of the sun.
To Tennoc she replies "Remember no violence unless they offer it first and even then we should be convincing them, not killing."
She also nods at Glasha.
"I'll take that under advisement, Thank you." Looking at Airmarra she raises an eyebrow. "I'm unfortunately new here. So any information you are willing to provide would be news to me.
Tenoc rumbles a quiet chuckle, grinning toothily as he nods in return. "This is truth," he says matter-of-factly. "And... not truth. Strangers are viewed with caution. They might all be evil wizards come to drain blood, steal egg and skin, cut off from Memory." He exhales a puff of steamy breath, glancing towards some skittering in the underbrush. "We are always careful, yus."
He glances to the Inquisitrix, nodding with a rumble of assent at her command. Convincing. With words, not spears. He exhales long and slow, a steam-kettle breath of quiet suffering. Focused attentions. Senses to the wood.
Mercy to tennoc asks "Are these squaters likely to be your people? I'm rather lacking in information there too. Given that is mission comes from the temple of my god, The source of JUSTICE I'm sure we are on the side of right. but I would like to know more about those with whom we will be dealing."
"I will not be the first to draw weapons." Aimarra's response to the inquisitrix is laconic, but it conveys the point. She continues to pace towards the destination, eyes peeled for trouble.
The Way Station is part Inn, part small guard tower, and all boarded up. It has windows which are more like wide arrow slots, a small person might be able to squeeze through and don't make for great cover for someone inside. All the ground floor ones are covered with boards, the second story one's aren't. The top of the building has battlements, suggesting a flat roof.
An Alexandros flag used to fly, but has long since blown to tatters. Scaffolding lies against the sides of the building, allowing access for repairs and to the windows. That also looks like it has been there for some time.
It sits there quietly, and has a very thick door studded with iron nails.
GAME: Tenoc rolls Perception: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Mercy rolls perception: (15)+3: 18 GAME: Glasha rolls Perception: (7)+1: 8 GAME: Glasha rolls 1d20+8: (2)+8: 10 (Luna's Perception) GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
After listening to Tenoc, Glasha speaks. "My advice is to be respectful," she says. "The locals I met up with said if I had a reason to be here, it was okay. We have reason to be here. Nothing to worry about except potentially from the squatters."
Glasha turns her gaze at the home. She lifts her axe-staff, raven atop it. "Peek in the windows," she says to Luna. "See what you can see in there."
For Mercy, the Makar rumbles a rough chuckle of bemusement. "This one does not know," he begins, "Though it is...sssk. Not likely. Prefer warm placse, much warmer. Mictlan has great ceremonial bonfire, flames in honor of Dragon. Warmth of home, brought to face off cold of Whitesnowfrostchill." He shakes his head, coming up on the boarded home, glancing curiously at it. "...sssk. Even small dwellings are like termite mounds. Cover everything against wind-- then punch holes!"
Mercy continues her scrutiny as she speaks. Then she turns to the groups. "Forgive my rudeness for not looking at you as we spoke. but I'm fairly certain there is no one to ambush us in the woods. No guards either.
The Way Station itself is sixty feet square, originally constructed of large stone blocks, but later repairs have been with small bricks. This gives it somewhat of a patchwork appearance, and might explain why the recent attempt to make it more structurally sound.
It's not going anywhere, and the front door does not open. The party may not be visible to the squatters at the moment, but the closer they get the more likely that's going to be.
Mercy says, "I do not see any point in stealth, we are acting in an official capacity. and will need their attention and cooperation. I do not think we can ambush them then. Although the more of a surprise our knocking on the door is... the better."
The Way Station is a 2 story, 60' square box, clear to 200' of all trees. underbrush on the N, E, S sides. W side is 200' clear, and the road is on the W side, out at 200', with a clear approach directly to it. like a T.
Tenoc gazes at the strange building stoically, judging it on its own merits. A chuff-- the Makar grunts as he shifts behind the Inquisitrix and to one side. "Then let us... knock," he says to Mercy, grinning mirthlessly. Time of truth-- peacefully come or
He stifles a rumble with an urgent will. It burns in the back of his throat, like some old and roused anger that doesn't know how to sit still. Calm. Focus.
- ...exhale a billow of smokey steam.
"Knocking is good," Glasha says. "You want me to do it from range?" she continues. "No sense making them feel threatened by a half-dozen people on their doorstep, right?"
Mercy ponders this. "Hmmm.. depends on weather we want to start with intimidation? For myself I'd rather we ATTEMPTED to be cordial it would be most JUST. however my temple made it clear that I was NOT in charge.
Tenoc grins in bemusement, glancing at Glasha in curiosity. Spirit-things? He nods assent, gazing in curiosity as he tilts his head towards Mercy haphazardly. "....sssk. One is clear not to bite," he intones midly. 'Unless given reason. Sssk."
"I rather doubt they'll want to be friends when they see the writ," Aimarra points out, folding her arms across her chest and tilting her head at Mercy. "I doubt they're thinking to invite us in for dinner just on seeing us, which they doubtless have done by now. We can start by being polite, but I wouldn't be surprised if it doesn't end that way."
Mercy says, "I guess we are agreed then, Go ahead if you would Glasha."
Tenoc will be just behind Glasha, and to one side. Ready to surge in front in case something happens.
Mercy adds to Airmara. "Verily I fear it is so. But we must serve JUSTICE"
GAME: Glasha casts Mage Hand. Caster Level: 4 DC: 16
Glasha walks forward without fear. She gestures with her free hand, speaking out unpronounceable words of eldritch power. A rock near to the door rends itself free of gravity's tenuous grasp and knocks four times on the door, two quick ones, two slow ones before it falls as if someone snipped the thread holding it up with scissors. It clatters to the ground unceremoniously.
>Knock Knock<
"Go away!"
>Knock< >Knock<
"We don't want any!"
Door defeats rock, which clatters on the ground. Nothing else happens immediately. Inside, perhaps there is conversation. It isn't audible at the distance.
Mercy says, "Right then."
Mercy strides forward and hopes the indpendent adventurers follow her. "Open up in the name of the Temple of Deus. We have official business with you. If you do not open within 5 minutes we will break your door down" she shouts authoritatively.
Is the front door the only door? No one knows. No one checked around back of it, no one has local knowledge or military tactics to remember what the layout is, no map was provided. A small humanoid could get through the windows. There might be a back door or secret underground exit or cellar or something. There might be a hatch on the roof. Scaffolding goes all the way up, so climbing in that way is possible.
Glasha rolls her eyes and walks to the door. "Hey, Mercy," she says, quietly.
Tenoc moves up, keeping pace with Glasha, ready.
While Glasha approaches the front door, Aimarra moves to the corner of the building, some distance back so that she can see the south and west sides of the building.
GAME: Mercy rolls perception: (10)+3: 13
Sounds of movement inside, footsteps, chairs being moved.
Mercy listens at the door and says "I think they're setting up a barricade. It sounds like they are moving furniture." She takes several steps back still facing the door. Drawing her crossbow she looks up to make sure she's not about to be blindsided from the roof or window. No one ever thinks to look UP.
The adventurers are all in a line.
Tenoc stands beside Glasha, behind the black-clad human, Mercy. Cocking his head, listening at--
"...ssk. Is what that is?" he asks carefully, listening to strange things. "This one thought they were the small, furry, tasty rodent things... squirrels?"
The inquisitrix looks up into an arrow point.
There's a 'twang' and a 'k-thock!', the distinctive sounds of a longbow and a light crossbow firing.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+10: (14)+10: 24 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8: (5): 5 GAME: Archer damaged Mercy for 5 points. 7 HP remaining.
The arrow strikes home. The crossbow bolt bounces off the inside of the wall, and prompts much swearing.
And then the door bursts open, slammed hard as someone charges it and bull rushes those beyond.
The first one out the door is human, seems human, might still be human. He's a contrast of diseased sores and carefully tended bandages and clothes. His eyes are crazy with rage, his hands wrapped up fists, larger than they should be.
Behind him is a similar looking human, and a skulking half-orc bringing up the rear. As they exit, a woman can be seen through the door as she pushes it shut. Her expression is all sorts of worried determination.
GAME: Tenoc rolls Perception: (9)+10: 19 GAME: Mercy rolls perception: (2)+3: 5 GAME: Glasha rolls Perception: (20)+1: 21
Inside, it is wide and open, and beds which are relatively near the door. This is unusual. It's the kind of thing is only done in infirmaries, where you don't want someone walking up stairs. Looks like some bandages about, clean and a pile of dirty ones, a bucket for cleaning. The other human and the half-orc look mildly diseased also. Elderly and ill orcs like to go out in a battle. Humans... usually don't think that way, but the half-orc might.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "so CMB on Glasha, then Mercy, then Tenoc" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+10: (14)+10: 24
The diseased human gets up close and personal with the half-orc, shoving her back a good ten feet. His face just... oozing, all over.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (20)+4: 24 (THREAT) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (13)+4: 17 (Confirmed) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d6+6: (7)+6: 13 GAME: Ruffian2 damaged Mercy for 13 points. -6 HP remaining. (DYING)
And a quarterstaff strike takes the Inquisitrix down.
Mercy is flattened. And lies on her back with cerebral fluid and blood coming out of her ears and nose. Her floppy hat drifts a few feet further before the arrow through it pins it to the ground.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (19)+5: 24 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d12+4: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Ruffian Half-Orc damaged Tenoc for 10 points. 46 HP remaining.
The skulking half-orc swings at Tenoc with an axe. A really nice looking one, possibly masterwork with an oaken haft. It's important to notice details like this as the blade sinks home and slashes the sith.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1+1: (13)+7+1: 21 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Hits!" GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d6+2+1: (4)+2+1: 7
Glasha is fifteen feet from the door. She started five feet away, was bull-rushed another ten feet. Tenoc is within ten feet of her, and five feet of the door. Aimarra is thirty feet away, diagonally southwest of the half-orc mage.
GAME: Glasha casts Sleep. Caster Level: 4 DC: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+2: (20)+2: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (11): 11 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (9)+1: 10 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (16): 16 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "and no save necessary Tenoc, spell HD used up" GAME: Glasha rolls Diplomacy: (8)+0: 8 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "They'll... think it over." <OOC> Tenoc says, "Perhaps.... sleep on it. ;3"
Glasha is tackled like an American Football player, pushed back, because everyone knows wizards like to rough-and-tumble. She keeps moving after he's done pushing her, stepping back five feet, reeling after seeing what lay inside. She steels herself and lets loose more unknowable words from beyond the stars, gesturing as she casts. When she's done, she shifts her axestaff to a defensive posture between herself and the one who pushed her and calls out, "We don't want to hurt you! We can escort you to the temple district and get you the healing you need! You can be made strong and healthy again! Don't throw your lives away with a dishonorable death!"
Several of them drop as the sleep spell takes affect. The one with the quarterstaff, the half-oruch with the really nice axe. There's sound from inside the building, but it's not clear if that's a baracade being built, or someone falling over.
Mercy continues to lie on her back. Cerebrel spinal fluid dripping out of her ears.
Mercy 's develops bruising behind her ears on her skull. a sure sign of head trauma.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "oh wait wait! Yus! Stuck Door roll! Strength Check, DC21" GAME: Tenoc rolls Strength: (20)+4: 24
Tenoc 's eyes glitter as he takes a moment to realize-- they shot at him. At HIM.
Tail lashing, the Makar snarls as he steps forward, ready to unleash his displeasure in great ferocity. Magic sweeps and glitters; where it touches, the sickly humans slump suddenly over, whoilely unnatural slumber that leaves the Makar staring in shock. Shuddering once.
Spite is turned on the door instead, a furious charge that tears the age-weakend door from its hinges, sending it sailing into the room beyond with a crash!
The door is blown right open! The Woman is asleep behind the door, and pushedout of the way. Inside, it's 60x60 with stairs on the far wall, up and down, pretty open. Holes in the wall suggest wooden walls that were removed.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+2: (5)+2: 7 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+12: (3)+12: 15 <OOC> Tenoc nods, indeed so. Count as both. <OOC> Cryosanthia nods, miss and hit GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8: (5): 5 GAME: Archer damaged Glasha for 5 points. 18 HP remaining.
It's a compelling and heartfelt argument, and several of the squatter's party members are sleeping on it. The two archers upstairs seem committed to the cause, and the half-oruch wizard is front and centre. Their fire concentrates on her.
The crossbow splangs and the bolt goes wide and into the ground.
The arrow, that hits home.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "The diseased guy tries to punch Glasha again, he has IUS, so it does not provoke. PA" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d3+10: (3)+10: 13 GAME: Diseased Ruffian damaged Glasha for 13 points. 5 HP remaining.
There is no sense in the diseased man's mind. His eyes are wild, his swings uncontrolled and over-extending. He lands a solid attack on Glasha. For just a fist, it hurts, really hurts.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1+1: (12)+7+1: 20 GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d6+2+1: (1)+2+1: 4
Seeing that only one target is not taking a little nap, Aimarra scowls, switches targets and looses another arrow, intending to make the diseased man attacking their wizard take another sort of nap. Specifically, a dirt nap. Her second shot is as well-placed as her first, but does not sink as deeply as the first one did. Different angle. "Lizard, get out here!" she raises her voice and shouts, hopefully loudly enough to be heard inside.
Glasha grimaces at the arrow, then shrieks in pain at the punch. She moves away, blood beading up and rolling off her clothing, leaving no stain until it hits the ground. As Aimarra's attack strikes home, Glasha takes the opportunity to back away in a backwards run, moving behind Aimarra. "Not a fan of this. They've got some kind of disease. It might be affecting them in weird ways. That punch hurt a hell of a lot more than it should have."
Mercy continues to lie down on the job. Her ears leaking clear fluid and the nasty gash in her scalp from the arrow that took off her floppy hat staining her platinum hair a kind of rust colour. Her breathing is laboured and her face and hands are turning pale and bluish. if touched her hands are as cold as ice.
As the lizard runs out, he hears a voice upstairs, "Shoot if she Casts." <sildanyari>
<OOC> Tenoc charge diseased fighter. STUNNING FIST attack! (DC: 14) GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+8+2: (20)+8+2: 30 (THREAT) GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+8+2: (2)+8+2: 12 GAME: Tenoc rolls 2d6+8: (8)+8: 16 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+2: (1)+2: 3 (EPIC FAIL) (Fort Save)
Tenoc twitch. TWITCH. Snarling, he turns, lunging back outside. Greatspear tossed aside, leaping over the poor, unfortunate Mercy (lying down on the job-- SHAMEFUL), he aims for the diseased madman's most vulnerable places. Hunter's strike-- he jabs a savage blow at the back of his head, heavy fist smashing with brutal fury into blotched flesh.
Breathing with a glare, Tenoc turns his eyes towards Aimarra. "*Leeee*--ssard?" he remarks, glowering. Glowering!
The diseased human is hit like a hamhock by a tenderizer. The puss filled sores on his face explode outward from the impact. His brain rattles in his brain-box. If he wasn't thinking before, he's doubly distracted now.
Swaying on his feet, he looks like he should fall, but doesn't.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8: (8): 8 GAME: Archer damaged Aimarra for 8 points. 20 HP remaining.
An arrow is loosed from the second story, with eerie accuracy it slices across the half-elf's cheek. The arrow-tip cuts deep, leaving the strange and unpleasant sensation of a second smile and cool air against exposed teeth.
And blood, she's tasting her own blood.
A low moan escapes the diseased human as he sways on his feet.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1+1: (11)+7+1: 19 GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d6+2+1: (2)+2+1: 5 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Hits, and.. hmm... roll a Heal DC15 or a Perception DC20" GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (12)+10: 22
"It got you out here, didn't - agh!" An arrow lays Aimarra's cheek open, and blood quickly streams down her face. Her voice sounds odd now, a little different. "Fuck, we need to get into cover." She raises the bow and looses another arrow into the reeling mess, murmuring, "Come on, finish him!"
Any normal person would have gone down. He's still fighting for a reason. A Diehard.
Alas, it is not to be, and she mutters again as the thing - impossibly - is still fighting. A fatality is not to be. Not today. "You're right, let's get inside. Run!" She suits actions to words, taking off at a run for the door.
GAME: Glasha casts Invisibility. Caster Level: 4 DC: 18
Glasha gestures, uttering out eldritch words of power before thoroughly disappearing.
Mercy's breathing takes on a strange pattern, rapid short panting one moment then a breif pause as her chest heaves in gigantic gulping Sighs. Her skin is visibly turning blue and she is still bleeding her hair getting rustier and the back of her head soaked in clear cerebral-spinal fluid. Her eyes are open with the pupils turning into pinpoints. Then one and and only one blows open to full dilation. Oh and blood is also coming out of her nose, bubbling with her breath.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+10: (11)+10: 21 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8: (1): 1 GAME: Archer damaged Aimarra for 1 points. 19 HP remaining.
It is tempting to land another savage blow against the diseased man,but.... Tenoc grimaces. Priorities. Withdrawing from the immediate battle, he turns towards the barely sensible Mercy,a brief glance-- are all softskins so leaky? A question to ponder another day-- the Makar takes up the wounded human, grimacing as he hunches over her. Charging back towards the alcove and cover of the building's interior, rumbling for fortune as he thinks.
There's the sound of footsteps above, crossing the floor. At the top of the stairs the archer peeks down.
Ffffft!
A snapshot puts another arrow through the half-elf's hair, nicking her ear.
An elf! She was shot by an Elf!
Coughing, a mouthful of blood and bile erupts from the diseased man's mouth. He turns, lurching after Tenoc and his expiring burden. He's slower than he was, clearly moving with pain, but he keeps coming with an almost orc-like ferocity. He's only a few steps behind the sith'makar, and comes through the door.
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon1+1: (15)+7+1: 23 GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d6+2+1: (3)+2+1: 6
A few wisps of dust rise in the field surrounding the Way Station.
Tenoc sets Mercy down somewhere comfortable, quickly. Has nothing to help sadly, so-- up stairs. Storm after archers to complain savgely about courtesy!
Mercy's body continues to twitch and heave, Suddenly she vomits. Bile and undgested food going everywhere as her body desperately empties her stomach. Her breathing stops. and she's really cyanotic now.
As the greenscale starts up the stairs, the elf gets pulled back and a trap door slams down.
Aimarra glances up the stairs and snarls as another arrow grazes her. "I'll get to you in a minute, you pencil-pizzled son of a she-goat." Surely she calls out fair greeting to one of her own kind - right? The musical sound of the language could never be anything but fair words. She doesn't have time to look at Mercy, but instead backpedals, putting one last arrow square between the diseased man's eyes. Finally, finally, he crumples, and she looks down at him with a satisfied smirk. "You're next," she calls up the stairs. <sildanyari>
Tenoc grins savagely, staring up the stairs--
- ....stopping short as the heavy trap door above slams shut!
Snarling in hissing curse, he turns back towards the doorway, teeth flashing grimly. Outside, the opportunity once spotteed before lends it self to a new one now-- the scaffolding, haphazardly abandoned before, is now useful again to climb. And climb he does, Tenoc's grasp quick, certain, swift. Moments pass as he twists up through the poles and rafters, up towards the second floor...
And windows far too small for him to enter. GRRR>
The heavy trapdoor slams down. There is the sound of a chain, then movement.
While on the ground floor, the squatters sleep the sleep of the enspelled or the dead.
GAME: Aimarra used a Potion of Cure Light Wounds. GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d8+1: (6)+1: 7 GAME: CLW damaged Mercy for -7 points. 1 HP remaining.
Aimarra swears as the trapdoor slams down, but it does give her a moment - to look at Mercy, and she does _not_ look good. If something is not done swiftly -- well, _she_ cannot afford resurrection, that is for certain. Rolling Mercy onto her side away from her as the woman vomits, she waits until she is done, then carefully rolls her back onto her back and fishes a vial of something clear and bluish from her belt pouch. She opens the lid with a flick, then dribbles the contents carefully down the woman's throat, not so fast that she will choke or aspirate.
Mercy's breath returns with a sudden loud gasp. Her pupils take turns contracting and expanding until they look normal for the amount of light in the room. Her eyelids flutter as she recovers her breathing and pulse. Meanwhile the colour is returning to her face (her hands might have to wait a bit). She sits up looking startled but functional. Then she puts a hand to her bloody matted hair and asks. "Where's my hat?" Looking down at her self she adds "Ugh, Gross" and then "Oooooh that hurt"
GAME: Tenoc rolls Athletics: (14)+12: 26 GAME: Tenoc rolls Athletics: (13)+12: 25 GAME: Tenoc rolls Athletics: (3)+12: 15
On the second story of the scaffold, the greenscaled sith'makar rips the boards away form the window. He leans in, preparing... something wonderous. Instinct makes him check first, from what is visible, it seems the floor is empty.
A-ha! There's a flutter, a pair of legs vanishing up a ladder.
GAME: Aimarra rolls athletics: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aimarra rolls athletics: (4)+3: 7 GAME: Aimarra rolls athletics: (14)+3: 17
"Here," Aimarra says roughly, pressing a second of those vials into Mercy's hand once she sees that the woman is conscious. "Take it easy a minute. I'm going after the lizard." Bedside manner, what? And the deep, heavily bleeding slash across one cheekbone and a second graze across her shoulder don't help in the slightest. It's rather gruesome, really, and her voice sounds odd, but she stands, grabs her bow without further comment, and turns to start climbing the scaffolding outside.
...and gets nowhere, the blood running down her front and arms interfering with her purchase on the frame.
All is quiet.
All are asleep.
GAME: Mercy used a Potion of Cure Light Wounds. GAME: Mercy rolls 1d8+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: CLW damaged Mercy for -3 points. 4 HP remaining. GAME: Mercy used a Potion of Cure Light Wounds. GAME: Mercy rolls 1d6+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Mercy rolls athletics: (7)+5: 12
Mercy thanks Aimarra profusely and then quaffs the potion, her colour immediately gets better and she is even a little flushed as if exerting herself. She ughs at the mess again moves to the door to see if she can't find her hat. Also, she opens her belt pouch to see if she has a potion of her own.
Others may scramble up that scaffolding like a scaled squirrel, but Aimarra, bloodied as she is, is having much more trouble with it. He is gone by the time she makes it to the second story, swearing.
Mercy stiffwrists back the second potion in one gulp and smiles, her posture getting better and her actions more sure. She goes over to her floppy plumed hat and pulls it free of the arrow. AFTER settling it on her head, she starts climbing after Tennoc, eventually peeping through the second story window into the apparently empty room beyond.
Pursuit, continues. The lizard hauling his heavy form expertly up through the outside platforms. The women are left behind. He's outside the battlements.
"I don't see them. Do you think they're climbing up?" An elfin voice drifts by on the wind.
With a flash of scales, the sith'makar is over, landing solidly.
"AHHHHHHHH!" <sildanyari>
Combatty Stuff
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Okay, Tenoc, others. It is 3 rounds to climb to the top, and a climb roll each round. Athletics DC10. Or if you prefer, Acrobatics DC20 to flip up there. First roll is second story, second roll is top, outside battlements, third roll is over the battlements. Strength check to rip off the window boards DC12."
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 7 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
24 Mercy 1
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>> 22 Tenoc 3 <<
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16 Archers 1
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14 Ruffians 1
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13 Aimarra 1
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9 Glasha 1
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==============================================================================
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| Name | CHP (T) | HP |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
| Aimarra.......| 19 | 28 |
| Mercy.........| 4 | 12 |
| Tenoc.........| 46 | 56 |
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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 |
|Glasha |HALF-ORC |Wiz | 23 | 23 |11/10/11 | 15 | 3 | 2 | 5 |
|Mercy |HUMAN |Inq | 12 | 12 |13/10/13 | 14 | 3 | 3 | 6 |
|Tenoc |SITH-MAKAR|Mnk/Rgr | 56 | 56 |21/19/18 | 25 | 9 | 8 | 3 |
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Outtakes
<OOC> Tenoc knows nothing! "Softskins live in great big collections like termites mounds and are dangerous when their chocolate is taken away." :3
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Tenoc is wise"