PrP: Watt's Mine is Mine

It's a soggy morning with the spring thaw tackling the last vestiges of winter, leaving everything damp and cold. The post at the Explorer's guild mentioned a mine infestation that needed clearing out and after some quick arrangements, you find yourselves with your potential employer in his room at a small mediocre inn just inside of town, the sort of place low-end merchants and farmers bunk at when they bring their wares and harvests into town.

Your prospective employer is Grolin Watt, an old withered man with a pinched face and thin flowing white hair, gnarled hands crooked and calloused from years of labor. He sits on his bed looking over a positively ancient looking ledger, reading glasses perched precariously on his thin aqualine nose. The door to his room is open and a small number of rickety chairs have been laid out. "Come in, he beckons. Don't have all day. Sit down and we'll get down to brass tacks."

One of the chairs groans dangerously as Karl settles into it; not because he weighs a lot, but because it's sort of a rickety old thing that probably should've been thrown out or repaired years ago. He leans forward a bit, resting one arm on his knee, brows raising slightly, "Alright. So what seems to be the problem, Master Watt?"

Selia wanders in with a mild look aorund, hopping lightly up on a chair to try and keep to a eye-level somewhat approaching that of her perspective employeer. "Ain't never understood dat sayin.... wotta brass tacks 'ave ta do wit busniess?"

"...oh! Well, of course, yes, of course," Abrahil looks flustered for a moment, his ears turning a touch red even as he hurries over to a chair. Though, 'hurries' might be something of a stretch--he bounces more than walks, and rolls more than runs. And when he gets to the chair, he finds it a touch too large.

...and the gnome adjusts his rose-colored lenses atop his rather generous nose, and sets about how one might approach this task. "I do wish I'd brought a...oh, oh my. It does look a mite dusty, doesn't it?" he murmurs.

Mogrinaar enters into the area after the others. He looks over at the others and nods his head before turning his attention to Grolin Watt. Looking down at the rickety looking chairs the Oruch shakes his head. "I think I will be best served by standin." With a snort he moves closer and takes a look at the ancient parchment and blurts, "So what do you have there eh? Some sort of treasure map?" The door to the main room of the inn opens and closes, momentarily allowing the noise and bustle of the outside world into the relative quiet. Then, after muttered greetings with the proprietor a clear voice states "Yes, I'm looking for a Mister Watt."

"What?"

"A guest."

"Who?"

"No, not 'Hu', 'Watt.'"

"Watt's in the First."

"... thank you." A few moments and light footfalls later, an exasperated Jinks arrived in the doorway. "... one of those days," he's muttering.

Grolin's pinched face wrinkles in overt disgust as he stares over his spectacles at Mogrinaar. "It's a ledger. I got business to run, and business with ya'll if you want to put some work in." He says in that crotchety old man voice. "I have a mine....Had a mine. Gods damned kobolds infested it. Killed my son, my dog, ran me out of the place. I got a hundred gold if you clear it out, and lootin' rights on anything you pick off those scaly bastards that isn't mine."

Selia perks up slightly. "Kobolds? I'm in." Not often she has a chance to fight monsters potentially smaller then she is.

Mogrinaar snorts again and shrugs. "Sounds like fair pay for an honest days work. I dont have any love for those dogs who think they are civilized because they can walk on two feet." he chuckles and pats the hilt of his falchion. "Count me in."

Abrahil adjusts his lenses again, and turns around with an apologetic sort of smile, sort of as a grandfather who realizes he just can't give those cookies to his favorite grandchild. It's quite sad, really. Quite, quite sad, and the edges of his brushy eyebrows droop with it. They positively tremble. "Oh! Oh, my. Why,

I'm terribly sorry to hear that." His hand twitches, as though he'd pat the man's hand, but he bravely puts it in his pocket, instead. ...and then Jinks arrives. You know, that /other/ gnome. ...his sad, sad eyebrows just droop a little more.

Karl's lips purse briefly. "Well, I do know some kobolds who aren't... aggressive," he admits, "If they've infested the place and started killing people, though, I'd say that definately puts them in the category of 'monsters'."

Jinks smiles brilliantly when he spies Abrahil and Selia in the modest room, lifting a beringed hand in greeting. He shuffles around Mogrinaar and seeks out one of the seats, he eyes the old wood, its faded grain and dusty nooks. He sings a few wordless notes and brushes his fingers through the air, minor magics swirling in dull motes that quickly clean the seat -- and only then does he sit down. "So, yes. Here we are. What was that about kobolds?" Maybe he wasn't paying the closest attention.

GAME: Jinks casts Prestidigitation.

Grolin looks rather flustered at the lack of attention from Jinks, Mog not being something less monstery, and all of you for being younger and happier than him. "Yes! Kobolds! In my mine!" He snaps, pulling himself to his feet. He takes a small pouch laying on the table near his bed and tosses it to Karl, "There's half up front and directions to my mine. It'll be 3 days by boat and another day on foot. My younger brother runs a piece of junk he calls a steamer and he'll be heading back upriver tomorrow. Now get out of my room, I got business to attend!"

Selia stops smileing. Three days on a boat? With this group? Goona be a loooong trip....

"Why, some kobolds seem to have put a sticker through his son," Abrahil murmurs. "Quite the terrible thing to do, really. You'd at least think they'd...well! Well," he says, then, flustered. "It just wasn't the nice thing to do, is all. Why, it looks like we're off on a tale of romantic adventure! Vengeance! ...and a steamboat ride," he beams.

That's a bit of a journey. Karl slants a look to the others, then back to Grolin with a slight furrowing of his brow. "Well." Pne hand braces to the edge of the chair, and he pushes himself up to his feet, "Guess the faster we get going..." "It will be an adventure!" enthuses Abrahil!

Mogrinaar watches as Jinks cleans up the dirty seat and raises an eyebrow. "3 days by boat ya say....oye. What a location for a mine. I woulda thought it would have been a little closer...seems like it would be easier to manage a might bit closer." he shrugs and nods at Abrahil. "Yeah....one we better get a move on before the kobolds start to spawn..."

"Well, kobolds are not overwell known for the manners and civility. I cite Genrivia before some anti-defamation league colors me a racist." Jinks hops out of his chair -- nevermind that he -just sat down- and was getting comfortable -- and smooths at his fancy coat, then his goatee. A tug at his cuffs and he waves Abrahil ahead. "I should acquire my things. We will meet at the docks in, say, a half hour?"

The assignment taken, the five of you set out with your preparations or lackthereof for the night and head down to the docks tomorrow morning. Thorin Watt, the younger brother of Grolin is just as grouchy, though 10 years younger. The trip is pretty uneventful and boring, given there are little to no passengers other than you, the captain, and a pair of goblins that maintain the engine and feed the hopper and take verbal abuse from Thorin. The three days on the water pass, and then it's a quick night at a small road inn and then in the morning you set out on foot (or pony) to Grolin's Mine.

Following the directions, you arrive at dusk. Cresting the hill, you can see the simple mana-lights that have been strung up over the hastily constructed wooden palisades that encircle the homestead/mine. In the distance, you can see a few scurrying figures and the chimney is billowing smoke from the top. There appears to be two entrances, aside from climbing the wall/pushing through a northern hedgerow/clambering over the rocky outcropping the mine is tunneled into. A large double-door gate that serves as the main entrance, apparently barricaded with piles and piles of stones. And a small closed wooden gate. WHAT DO YOU DO?

http://img402.imageshack.us/i/grolinhomestead.jpg/

"I...oh, my. They've certainly made a bit of a home out if it, haven't they?" Abrahil demurs. He folds his hands over his paunch and looks worriedly over the construction. The pony below him gives an uncaring huff, and only grunts as the round fellow begins to descend from the saddle.

"It definately looks as if they've made themselves at home, yeah..." There's a moment's pause, and then Karl glances back to the others, "...anyone happen to have any alchemist's fire, or -- firey spells, or anything? It'd make this a lot easier if we could just set those buildings on fire, they'd panic, we could pick them off."

Selia eyes the step up for a few moments before glancing to the others. "Welp, I'm all fer sneaking in, den slitting da throat o' anything stupid 'nuff ta wander alone. But dat's jus me, wot ideas you all got?"

Selia says, "Nah, 'sposed ta save da place. Na burn it."

"Oh...oh, my. Well, I'm quite good at illusions and well, construction. Theatre and all that." Abrahil tosses the pony's reins over the saddle horn, then beams up at all of them. He's somewhat older, and so the sun catches atop his well, rather round head. There's a tuft at the top, though.

Mogrinaar hrmphs. "I guess these kobolds wont be sensible enough to listen to reason...like hey you dogs, ya are on private property....get the hell off!" he laughs. "More likely to respond to the more aggressive negotiation methods heh."

Selia says, "I tend ta find when roughly 'alf are layin in pools of rapidly coolin blood, da other 'alf starts ta listen ta talk o' surrender."

"It was just a thought," Karl murmurs, loading his rifle, "We should at least give them the chance to surrender, though. It'd be helpful to know how many of them there are, too."

Jinks is a fantastic traveling companion! Unless, of course, you don't like singing. He's quite fond of it. And drinking. And what sort of liquor enthusiast would be ready to go on an boat ride and adventure if they didn't have a case of assorted spirits delivered to the boat before departing? Jinks even shares (unless you're a goblin) but then you have to sit closer to him while he drinks and sings and tells stories about that one time he saved Alexandria by fighting in the war.

And then on the last day he's mildly hungover, sure, and probably not as rested as he might be had he given his life to holy and wholly magnanimous pursuits, but he's suited and kitted up. Leather traveling clothes, straps and buckles, a pack, a recurved shortbow and even a thin, pointy sword-type thing. He's still wearing his crown, too! "I'd be happy to conduct negotiations from behind one of your larger tallfolk." He chimes in helpfully.

"...well. I could...conjure up a rather large uh, bat, I suppose. Or a bugbear. Those are quite frightening, you know." Abrahil looks towards the rest of them. "It could make the idea a little more persuasive."

GAME: Abrahil rolls perception: (15)+3: 18

GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (7)+8: 15

GAME: Selia rolls perception: (7)+6: 13

GAME: Karl rolls Perception: (12)+8: 20

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls perception: (8)+1: 9

Selia says, ".....I'm still in favor o' sneakin in and slittin sum throats."

"I count..." A pause, and Karl murmurs, "Five or six. Not too many. Crossbows, spears..."

Mogrinaar shrugs. "No time like the present to get it going. Flush em out and do em real clean like." he grips the hilt of his falchion as if prepped to draw it on a moments notice.

"Oh. Oh! Well, that's not too bad, I suppose. ...though a crossbow is going to be nasty. Can you see closer to the mine? Is there anything over that way?" Abrahil asks.

GAME: Abrahil casts mage armor.

"We should reach a consensus. Our reward accrues no interest while we're here and I only brought a half-bottle with me. We fast approach dire straits." Jinks smooths at his goatee a bit nervously and narrows his eyes at the mining camp. "Ready weapons, attempt a diplomatic solution, then kill them when their tiny, lizard brains fail to realize they're overmatched? With our dear Miss Selia striking from hiding, naturally."

Selia says, "....I'm sorta inclinded ta skip ta da end, but willin ta go thru da whole thing fer apperance sake."

"We have to at least give them the chance," says Karl with a slight shake of his head, hefting the rifle up to his shoulder and looking up to the trees nearby, "I'll find a tree to shimmy up for a good shot, and provide cover for the rest of you. Especially if they try'n roll out some kind've kobold trickery - they're clever little devils."

Mogrinaar shrugs, "Give em a chance eh? They murderized our employers son. In my clan that debt can only be paid in one way."

Jinks shrugs shallowly. "I'm impartial in either direction. Getting them to open the gate and allow ingress would allow for us to not have to clamber over the walls whilst being peppered with arrows."

Abrahil's features darken. "Well, they're murderers," he says firmly. And pauses. "I like to think they're just trying to make a home though. ...I just wish they'd picked a better way to go about it." And the round little gnome props his hands atop his stomach again.

Selia says, "....so, Karl keeps overwatch, some 'ead up ta da gate ta talk? Dan't seem wise ta me. Meybe best ta..... 'weaken' da wall 'fore draw attention, in case need ta git thru it in a 'urry."

"You're assuming our employer was telling the truth," Karl observes cynically, "I've been burned before." Then he's hiking off a bit from the group, sneaking along over towards one of the trees nearer the palisade, on the south side, to climb up.

"Well. ...I think I might have an idea to help with the negotiations," Abrahil returns, brightly, to the rest of them. "I hear oruch are quite good at hitting things from time to time," he looks up to Mogrinaar. And then, well. The little round fellow--beams.

Mogrinaar sighs, "Didn't look like the lying type and we got a hundred shiny pieces that affirm that notion." he motions, "We got a job to do, so the way I look at it, we need to get it done. Talking only complicates things." he is about to continue when the little fellow gets his attention. "Oh yeah. Whatcha got up yer sleeve?"

"And what does the 'lying type' look like?" Jinks asks with a quiet laugh. He waves his hand to indicate the question was rhetorical and then looses his bow from the straps on his backpack. "Shall we?" Selia checks her own weapons before proceeding with Jinks. "Usually? Like sumone 'o wants ta offer ya sumthin with ya 'aving ta work fer it."

GAME: Karl rolls Stealth: (1)+9: 10

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20-5: (5)+-5: 0

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20-5: (1)+-5: -4

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20-5: (13)+-5: 8

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20-5: (7)+-5: 2

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20-5: (19)+-5: 14

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20-5: (4)+-5: -1

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+3: (8)+3: 11

"Just a few tricks up my sleeve," the gnome returns brightly. His eyes spark behind the rose-tinted lenses, and he takes out a small, brightly colored wand. He taps this on the edge of his nose. "It's just deciding which to use, you...oh! Oh! I think I know the very one..."

Luck is not with Karl today. He climbs the tree successfully and finds a nice sturdy branch to brace against to get a good shot. But something must have gotten knocked loose or broken in the climb and a branch falls to the ground with a loud rustle. Which draws the attention of a few kobolds who peek out the window....and their dog? There's a loud angry barking and a few moments later three kobolds come out of the house, holding crossbows in one hand, trying to hold back a large grey pitbull in the other from it's beeline towards Karl's direction, barking all the way. The kobolds yip and yap back and forth to one another as they scan the walls.

GAME: Abrahil casts haste.

Selia sighs, and shrugs, drawing her blade. "Whelp, guess things jus got intrestin...."

You paged (Abrahil, Mogrinaar) with 'The kobolds talk amongst themselves, to the effect of Do you think the old man got mercenaries? - No, we have his son. He will get what we asked for. - We should keep the dog. It is handy and warm. - Let's name him Biscuit.'

"Oh, shit." As he's spotted, Karl freezes for a half-moment before bringing the rifle up against his shoulder and starting to get a bead on the scampering little lizard-dogs and their crossbows, murmuring, "Well, I guess the jig's up..."

Mogrinaar motions to the others so only they can hear, if that is possible "They got the man's son prisoner it sounds like and they asked our employer for something." he whips out his Falchion and prepares himself.

"I...oh, oh my. They have his son," Abrahil says, his voice faint. A few after-images spark in the are from when he'd just cast, and his fingers tremble. "Someone's going to need to go in. ...I'll try to keep some of them distracted."

Abrahil rolls initiative: Roll: 16 + Bonus: 6 = Total: 22

Jinks rolls initiative: Roll: 9 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 12

Mogrinaar rolls initiative: Roll: 12 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 13

You roll initiative for Kobolds: Roll: 20 + Bonus: +1 = Total: 21

Selia rolls initiative: Roll: 7 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 12

Karl rolls initiative: Roll: 13 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 17

Current Initiative Order

22                  Abrahil

21                  Kobolds

17                  Karl

13                  Mogrinaar

12                  Selia

12                  Jinks
               

GAME: Abrahil casts displacement.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (7)+4: 11

GAME: Marek rolls 2d6+2: (6)+2: 8

GAME: Marek damaged Karl for 8 points. 19 remaining.

GAME: Karl rolls Climb: (12)+5: 17

GAME: Karl rolls Climb: (19)+5: 24

"It uh...oh, my. Alright. Bippity, boppity--there are two of you!" the wizard mutters, and a rainbow of colors cascade over the oruch. A mirror image of the man splits off and moves sideways, as the original--gradually fades away.

The trio of kobolds finally spot the treed sniper and begin screaming their little scaley heads off. Intruder, alert, all that good stuff. The leashes to the pitbull are let go so they can take shots at Karl, two of the three small bolts slamming into his flesh, while a third thunks into a branch. They then retreat into the recess of the barn to reload. Meanwhile, back at the ranch...farmhouse. The two windows on the south and western side of the house get occupants, kobolds nervously holding crossbows and looking for a target.

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls strength: (15)+4: 19

Mogrinaar watches as the projectiles fly towards the other party members and he just shakes his head. Looking at the option of climbing the wall or opening the gate he opts for the latter. The green behemoth moves forward and with the falchion blade in his teeth. He rubs his hands together and then spreads his wide arms getting a grip on the wall. Digging his tree trunk like legs into the ground, he heaves forward grunting as he does. The cords on his neck and back begin to twinge and it seems like it will not be enough, when a snap is heard and the whole thing comes crumbling down in front of him. He removes his weapon from his mouth and roars in defiance "Now you should have been more neighborly and invited us in for tea...."

Selia eyes Mogrinaar and his feats of strength, and makes a mental note not to make the large green man angry. Wouldn't like him when he's angry. But for the moment, the halfer keeps focus to the task at hand, scurrying foreward to take some cover amoung the ruins of what was a gate a few moments before.

GAME: Selia rolls 1d20+9: (20)+9: 29

GAME: Selia rolls 1d20+9: (18)+9: 27

GAME: Selia rolls 1d20+9-4: (19)+9+-4: 24

GAME: Selia rolls 2d4: (4): 4

GAME: Selia rolls 1d4: (2): 2

Selia eyes for a moment, then rears back and throws a small rubber balls towards the house. A small ball with a core of iron, cracking into a kobold skull, then boucing away to smack another skull, leaving both with ringing headaches and probible concussions.

Jinks pads across the open ground with his head low, moving with surprising speed once there are missiles in the air. His pack issues clattering noises and the arrows in his quiver rattle while he clears his throat, finally settling into a spot on the other edge of the broken gate. Beginning with a few wordless notes at first, the gnome slowly coaxes the weave into action, bolstering his allies and setting their blood to pumping as the melody pushes through them.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20: (5): 5

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20: (15): 15

GAME: Abrahil casts glitterdust.

Abrahil peers around the door. It isn't really peering--his stomach goes around the bend as soon as his nose does. Nevertheless, it's the...thought...that counts, isn't it? The small gnome clasps his hands together, then rubs them, and then--an arc of faerie-light heads towards the window, and vanishes inside.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+3: (6)+3: 9

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+3: (3)+3: 6

GAME: Marek rolls 2d6: (7): 7

GAME: Marek rolls 2d6: (3): 3

GAME: Abrahil rolls ref+1: (5)+3+1: 9

GAME: Abrahil rolls ref+1: (9)+3+1: 13

GAME: Marek damaged Abrahil for 10 points. 29 remaining.

GAME: Selia rolls reflex: (5)+10: 15

GAME: Selia rolls reflex: (19)+10: 29

GAME: Jinks rolls Ref+1: (15)+7+1: 23

GAME: Jinks rolls Ref+1: (14)+7+1: 22

GAME: Marek damaged Jinks for 4 points. 18 remaining.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (14)+4: 18

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls reflex: (7)+2: 9

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls reflex: (17)+2: 19

GAME: Marek damaged Mogrinaar for 8 points. 21 remaining.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d6+1: (1)+1: 2

GAME: Karl rolls Climb: (11)+5: 16

GAME: Marek rolls 1d100: (17): 17

Jinks has reconnected.

Total chaos erupts on the Watt homestead. Upon being blinded and spotting two...possibly three gnomes trying to sneak in, the kobolds begin shrieking racial slurs at the top of their lungs, while hurling two tin cans turned into crude bombs. They clatter amongst the stones before exploding, sending flames and stone shrapnel spraying all over the party. Meanwhile, one of the kobolds in the barn draws another bead on Karl, firing another bolt that grazes the gunman. And finally, the dog, undeterred by explosions, crashes through in a fit to defend it's territory, ignoring the smaller opponents to go for Mogrinaar's leg...or rather the thin air that looks like the Orc's leg. It sails through in it's lunge, turning back around for another attack.

GAME: Karl rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26

GAME: Karl rolls 1d20+7: (3)+7: 10

GAME: Karl rolls 1d10+3: (10)+3: 13

As the bullet cuts through Karl's hat and grazes his ear in a flash of pain, the rifleman's jaw tenses up in anger. Less at having been shot than at having his hat shot. A lean against the bole of the tree, and he brings the rifle up, getting a bead on the one that just fired on him and taking the shot. The back of the kobold's skull explodes, and he drops back.

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 1d20+9+2-2: (15)+9+2+-2: 24

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 2d4+6+3+1: (5)+6+3+1: 15

GAME: Selia rolls 1d20+9+2: (5)+9+2: 16

Mogrinaar grunts with the force of the damage he takes and his brow furrows underneath his helmet. "So the dogs send out their dog to do their dirty work. Kobolds...." he growls as he puts a boot up to sway the dogs incoming attack. It yelps a bit and turns to re-establish itself and the Oruch merely shrugs his shoulders and performs a swift slicing maneuver that sends the dogs innards to the ground with a kerspluchoozle and a YELP. "Shame." he states and then makes his move towards the barn.

Selia stands, and hurls another ball towards the kobolds in the house windows. This time, the ball catches against the window frame, bouncing wide of it's intended skull-target.

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+10: (11)+10: 21

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6+3: (6)+3: 9

"Ow, ow ow ow..." Abrahil clutches at his arm. Blood trickles through the fingers, The small, round gnome looks up, and quickly weaves a sigil in the air. "Oh, my. Now, I know he's around her somewhere," pause. "Isn't he?"

GAME: Abrahil casts detect thoughts.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23

GAME: Marek rolls 1d6+1: (2)+1: 3

GAME: Marek damaged Jinks for 3 points. 15 remaining.

It's quite likely that the kobold covered in sparkling glitter is screaming something to the effect of 'my eyes! my eyes!' in whatever pidgin draconian dialect the reptilian humanoids speak. A quiet twip, a woefully brief whistling noise, and a solid thunk has a gnome-sized arrow sticking out of one of those offending orbs and silences the kobold forever. Jinks, as if not bothered at all by the taking of a filthy, disgusting kobold's life, continues to sing on. "Days were darker then / light didn't get through / all this smoke and we had to grope."

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (5)+4: 9

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 1d20+9+2-2: (12)+9+2+-2: 21

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 2d4+6+3+1: (5)+6+3+1: 15

Mogrinaar sees one of the little buggers move and decides to extend his blade at just the right angle to cut him off, so to speak.

Things are not going well for the home team. Two of the barn kobolds are dead and the third flees for his life up to the hay loft. The one kobold at the window takes a potshot at the gnome in retalation, dropping a bolt into the bard's arm before ducking out of the window.

Karl has no current targets; he keeps watch from the tree, ignoring the feel of blood trickling down the side of his neck as he scans the farm for other threats.

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 1d20+9+2-4-2: (17)+9+2+-4+-2: 22

GAME: Selia rolls acrobatics: (18)+14: 32

Mogrinaar moves up the ladder somewhat and goes after the one that attempts to get away. "Oh no ye dont. Take potshots at my mates here and myself and you think you are going to scurry somewhere like a rat with its tail between its legs." he roards, spinning the blade around in one hand and then jabbing it into the kobold and sending it falling to the ground in a heap of bloody mess.

GAME: Selia rolls will: (6)+2: 8

Selia scurries foreward again, leaping atop a bit of rubble before springing thru the window of the house, turning swiftly to track the kobold without, only to encounter a faceful a magical dust in her eyes. "Oy! Now, kobold we- pfft! Ack! Wha? What da?! What?! DAMN YOU GNOME!"

Jinks winces, drawing a sharp breath in during a rest in the song. He glances down at the wound and then sets an arrow, drawing back on the line and sighting down his arm. Should the little bugger decide to show his face then the bard will add a new hole to it. "And Luck would be a child / with two arms, two feet and a brain / to hide a picture."

"Oh, my. There are six of them in there, you know," Abrahil says, his eyes opening wide. "I...oh, oh dear. And one of them--is using *such* dreadful language!"

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23

GAME: Marek rolls 1d6-1: (3)+-1: 2

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+5: (13)+5: 18

GAME: Marek rolls 1d6+1: (5)+1: 6

GAME: Marek rolls 1d6+1: (5)+1: 6

GAME: Marek damaged Selia for 14 points. 10 remaining.

Faced with an intruder in their midst, the kobolds in the house freak. The three that can be seen anyway. One stabs at Selia blindly, tearing a gash open in her thigh, while she takes a bolt in the shoulder from another kobold, and a pot of boiling water from a teapot to the legs. As good as that round went for them, they are still pretty freaked and they're all screaming and jabbering in draconic.

GAME: Karl rolls Acrobatics: (18)+7: 25

If the kobolds will not come to Karl, Karl will have to go to the kobolds. He pushes away from the tree and drops down with a somersault, landing on his feet and at a run on his way towards the farm. Rifle cradled in his arms, head low as he heads to the house, crossing the yard in record time.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+10: (17)+10: 27

GAME: Marek rolls 2d6+3: (5)+3: 8

Mogrinaar is done with his part of the job in the barn. He wipes his blade off on some hay and then proceeds towards the house. There is still more killin to do.

<OOC> Marek says, "Or would, were it not for the bear trap they buried in an 8 inch deep pit and covered with enough sticks and dirt to support their weight and nothing else. The trap snaps down on your leg and is gonna hold you there until you pull the trap free from the spike it's chained to in the pit."

GAME: Marek damaged Mogrinaar for 8 points. 13 remaining.

GAME: Selia rolls intimidate: (5)+11: 16

Selia is blooded, blinded, and covered in hot water. She's out numbered, and though assistance is near, it's not near enough. There's only one thng to do in a situation like this..... rant. "Alright ya weasly li'le bastards. Soon as I git dis crap outta me eyes, I'ma first rip off yer scrawny arms, shove um up yer ass, rip 'em out yer snout, and den? DEN I'M GONNA GET MEAN!" The words might not translate to those who don't speak Common, but the tone of pure wrath is pretty universal.

GAME: Jinks casts Cure Light Wounds.

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d8+4: (2)+4: 6

GAME: Marek damaged Jinks for -6 points. 21 remaining.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20: (20): 20

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20: (7): 7

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20: (17): 17

Jinks tears the arrow out and tosses it aside with a bit of a cry. He's stopped singing for the time being and moves quietly instead towards the house in which the kobolds are currently assaulting Selia. He whispers a brief poem and waves a hand over the worst of his wounds, knitting flesh and revitalizing himself.

"The boy's...oh. Oh!" the gnome blinks a few times as he rubs at the corner of an eye with a thumb. "Sweet lord above." And with a flourish of the wand, lights implode--and begin to dance along the floor and inside the house.

Things are closing in for the two remaining kobolds in the main room. Faced with opponents in their midst and more closing in fast, they decide to book it while they can and fling the front door open, leaping outside and running as fast as their tiny wiry legs will carry them.

GAME: Selia rolls will: (10)+2: 12

GAME: Karl rolls 1d20+7: (5)+7: 12

They're at the back door! Karl veers off from his intended target, off to one side of the house just in time to catch sight of the kobolds heading off. The rifle's brought up, and he fires - but the wounded hat has slipped down a bit and ruined his aim! Probably due to the crossbow quarrel that's weighing it down.

GAME: Mogrinaar rolls strength: (16)+4: 20

Mogrinaar strains against the trap and yanks for all he is worth. It pulls up right out of the ground and if there ever were a pissed off Oruch, you see one here and now. "When I get my hands on you little punks!" he shouts this time in draconic to make sure that nothing is lost in translation. "I am going to cook a stew out of you and feed you to the pigs!"

GAME: Selia rolls 1d20+10: (6)+10: 16

GAME: Marek rolls 1d100: (25): 25

Selia listens, hearing the majority of the commotion head away from her. The halfling sighs, and starts to relax, only to have something small and scaly brush against her! Jumping back, Selia lashes out blindly, failing to connect with anything.

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+9: (17)+9: 26

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6+3: (3)+3: 6

GAME: Selia rolls will: (17)+2: 19

Jinks is more than happy to continue slaying the beguiled and wounded, ensuring that they won't rejoin the fight. He looks through the window and puts a quick arrow into the back of a distracted reptilian. "At your leisure, miss halfling, you could rejoin our efforts." He teases in his sing-song way.

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+1: (6)+1: 7

GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+1: (18)+1: 19

GAME: Abrahil used a Potion of Cure Light Wounds.

GAME: Abrahil rolls 1d8+1: (6)+1: 7

GAME: Marek damaged Abrahil for -7 points. 36 remaining.

The two remaining kobolds, fleeing for their lives, and put a bustle in their hedgerow (as opposed to buying a stairway....to heaaveeeen). One gets stuck in the barbs and brambles, while the other wriggles through, to live another day.

GAME: Karl rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26

GAME: Karl rolls 1d20+7: (18)+7: 25

GAME: Karl rolls 2d10+6: (5)+6: 11

As the kobold gets stuck in the hedgerow, wriggling to try and escape, Karl takes careful aim... and fires. The result is not pleasant. Suffice it to say that the bullet comes out the kobold's mouth, but didn't enter through the skull.

Selia blinks a few tmes more, magical dust finally going away enough for some vision to return. Idly, she levels her blade in Jinks direction. "Now is *not* da time."

"I...well. It looks like he knew how to enjoy himself. I--" and then, there's probably oruch cursing. The gnome blinks, as though coming to his senses. "Coooomming!" he chirps, and hurries off that way--as much as, well, a beachball can.

Mogrinaar watches as one kobold makes it away and the other gets to experience the digestive process in reverse. "Nasty..." he grunts looking down at his leg. "A little assistance here?" he motions. "Damn, hopefully our employers son is still alive and kicking. Might be a little bonus for us." he looks around. "Everyone ok?"

"Oh, Selia, it's always the time." Jinks winks and considers the courtyard momentarily, making sure there's litle chance of further attack for the time being. "If you were to ask, I might lay my hands upon you and sooth your most terrible aches." He turns back, smiling and singed from where the bombs hit him earlier. "I also have some healing magics I could cast."

Selia glares at the gnome for a few moments.... then snerks and grins. "Oy, meybe. First lets see iffen can find dat 'ostage, git outta 'ere."

The aftermath is bloody, with the corpses of 6 kobolds and one dog littered across the ground, needless to say the carnage at the gates. You find one last kobold with a busted leg in the root cellar, drunk off his ass on corn liquor and the apparent guard for a tied up middle aged man, one Horus Watt. After dispatching or capturing the drunken bum kobold, Horus explains that the nest of kobolds worked for them for a few years and his skinflint father started shorting them on the trade goods they'd exchange for the silver and gold that came out of the mine, so they took the place over and tried to ransom him for what would have amounted to a couple hundred gold in supplies and trade goods.

Rather than pay it, he hired you for half that to risk his life in an assault. Still, Horus says he'll get you a real reward (i.e. the treasure rolls) when he sells his stake in the mine to his uncle and gets the hell out of here. You were a little misguided and led down the wrong path by a miser, but you did manage to do some good deeds and make some coin doing it. Good times.

THE END……?