Dark Days in Sion - Act 2: Scene 3

Folg, Mogan, Svexyn

As you approach the inn, back-dropped by the dim light of the distant sunset, you note lanterns are lit by the main entrance with added light spilling from the many windows. Several tents are being erected near the inn with a few odd campfires flaring up. The main entrance is only about maybe four yards ahead of you when one of the double doors suddenly bursts open by an armored half orc who goes sprawling into the sands at your feet.

Steeping out after him is a warrior in well-heeled supple black boots who stands only a couple inches shy of six feet with the look of a swashbuckler and a duelist. A sharp rapier and a short sword hang from an elaborate sword-belt on his hip. He's dressed in a loose tunic and leggings only, absent armor to hinder quick and graceful movements. His hair is long and black, shoulder-length with errant strands dangling across his brow.

He is quite handsome, with well-tanned akhenaten features featuring elaborately trimmed sideburns and a goatee. His eyes possess the bewitching charm of a cobra, yet being bright blue its an easy guess this man is likely of mixed blood, probably Barossan.

The half orc spits blood and starts to stand, growling with rising blood-lust, while the duelist appears calm as a windless sea.

Half-Orc: -Shouts- "You'll pay for that!" He threatens.

Swashbuckler: Raises a brow mockingly. "Only if you make me." He goads with a wicked grin.

Meanwhile immediately behind him several faces peer out of windows and the doorway to watch the fun.

[Svexyn: What do you do?]

Svexyn, Folg and Mogan

Svexyn:

~Looks like we've got a show, and we didn't even have to pay!~

Svexyn motions for the others to follow suit, as he nonchalantly steps to the side, watching to scene unfold. Knowing that the swashbuckler seems to be able to handle himself with such ease, this match wasn't going to be fair at all. To Mogan and Folg, he whispers, "A silver piece says the half orc doesn't stand a chance."

Staying to the side, he watches the scene unfold, slowly trying to move to the walls of the inn, to lean against and enjoy the free show. He motions for Mogan to douse the torch, might as well save it for another time, since they are afforded plenty of light now.

Alic, Bax, Kryslogious, Malic, Ordechai, Wrenwil

The Vul immediately strikes at you with its natural weapons, screeching so loudly it hurts your ears. (Its attacks suffer at a -4 penalty for being prone.)

Vul Hunter: (Right Wing-Claw Attack: = 6, Miss)(Left Wing-Claw Attack: = 0, Miss)(Beak Attack: = 3, Miss)

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<End of Round 1>

[Wrenwill: Roll initiative for next round since you technically are readying a weapon]

Wrenwil

[Init = 16]

Avar, Billanverthorne, Jabbar

Avar: Slowly shakes his head "Your plan won't work Billanverthorne, we already tried it. After we escaped Skull Mountain my clan swore a vow to kill any members of the black network we came across. We raided several camps and hideouts, killed dozens, and while it was immensely satisfying it was all for naught. Skull Mountain can afford to loose dozens everyday, our victories changed nothing. Nor could we dissuade them from hunting us by making examples of agents we captured with acts of brutality. Skull Mountain does worse to their own who refuse to obey orders."

"Still we remained steadfast in our vow, hoping our example would motivate others to join our cause. We believed fellow dwarves of the hills and mountains would rally to our banners, but our emissaries were turned away with ridicule and scorn. Even after all that's been lost to Skull Mountain they are too proud to consider shedding blood for our sake!" He curses bitterly.

"Without allies, we were doomed. The evils of Skull Mountain do not fight fair. They eventually changed tactics and stopped sending scouts and patrols to hunt us. Instead they used dark magic such as scrying spells and magical familiars. For a time we were fooled into thinking we were winning, but our worst losses were yet to come..."

Avars pallor becomes even paler and his eyes unfocus with terrible memories.

"...Suddenly in the middle of night, hellish beasts and demons appeared in our midst! There is nothing worse than battling such evil in your own homes. Not even the children were spared..." He says with complete dread. "...After that we gave up on our campaign. Our only hope to survive was to spread out and keep hidden until those horrors lost track of us again."

Avar takes a breath and blinks to regain his composure.

"I realize I am too young to have witnessed everything I just spoke of personally, but the elders of my clan gave me such a vivid telling of our history that I feel as if I actually did live out those events. Which of course is the point, for without history, we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past."

Jabbar: "I'm afraid Avar is right. The Back Network cannot be defeated unless Skull Mountain falls first. That is why we are hoping you can rally the army of Siellon against them! It is the only plan that makes sense at this time. Understand we do not expect you to simply demand that of them. Persuasion and diplomacy will no doubt be required, but who better than an honorable elven soldier who's lost a father and a grandfather to inspire a purpose of vengeance among your kin?"

"Avar and I will help you collect evidence and uncover secrets of the Black Network that you can use in your arguments. Of course we want to kill them all as much as you do, but we are too few to do much harm to their organization. We must keep them in the dark, unaware of who we are and where we are as much as possible. Unfortunately, given that you are obviously already on their death list, that is easier said than done."

"By the way, Khaled wasn't entirely forthcoming about what brought you to Cabarda in the first place? Is there some friend or relative of yours hereabouts that may also be in danger? The Black Network will use anyone you care about to get close to you. If there is someone you need to warn, we should get them into hiding before its too late."

Ersun

He takes a five foot step towards Worgo, slighlty shifting towards the smaller tent and thug#2. Then he engages the half-duergar and strikes at him.

[Standard Attack, Worgo: 26, possible critical]
[Critical Roll: 11, most likely not a critical]
[Damage, Worgo: 12]
[Hit Location, Worgo: 2, right arm, most likely no effect]

Bax, Garrisan, Kryslogious, Ordechai, Wrenwil

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<Start of Round 2>

Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(17) Kryslogious (-6)
(16) Wrenwil
(15) Vul Hunter (-9)
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[Kryslogious: It is your turn, what do you do?]


[Wrenwil: Go ahead and make another craft check to assemble the crossbow. If you succeed you will still have to crank the winch and load it so it won't be ready to fire until round 3.]

Kryslogious of Anasteria

A sharp screech as the Vul flails at Kryslogious, clanks and scrapes can be herd as it feverishly tries to land an attack on him to no avail.

"Nay discipline, I am disappoint'd" he spoke as he raised his shield up defensively and watched his opponents moves [dodge AC+1] [combat expertise AC+3] and with a swift swing brings down his long sword once again onto the flailing beast.

[attack=19]
[hit location= gut +1 damage]
[damage= 10+1]

Folg, Mogan, Svexyn

The half orc reaches for his blade, a heavy falchion strapped to his back, but the duelist is too fast. Before the falchion is fully drawn the duelist darts forward with his rapier pointed under the half orc's chin!

Duelist: "Do you yield?" He asks plainly.

The witnesses hold their breath while the half orc trembles with embarrassment and rage.

Half Orc: "No!" he spits.

Duelist: Smiles. "I was hoping you'd say that, but this is too easy... let me give you some room..." He says flicking the tip of his rapier so it draws blood as he steps past showing his back to the half orc.

The half orc sucks in a breath, veins pulsing in his neck and forearms, eyes bulging with anger as he pulls his falchion and tries to chop the duelist in half from behind. The duelist seems to have eyes in the back of his head, twisting away at the last moment so the falchion misses his flesh and only cuts through the air.

Unfortunately the half orc put so much energy into that one strike he's unbalanced, making himself an easy target for the duelist who spins and stabs his rapier through the side of his neck! The bystanders gasp, staring with fascination as the half orc drops his sword and twitches while the duelist pulls his blade free, prompting heavy spurts of blood.

The half orc stumbles, breath gurgling as he attempts to breath, trying in vain to press his hand to the wound and stop the bleeding. The duelist seems struck with pity after a few moments and runs his blade into his back, through his heart, dropping him like a stone. The bystanders murmur, some making jests and paying off bets, others simply shrug their shoulders or shake their heads.

Meanwhile the duelist starts wiping his sword clean on the body of the half orc while glancing in your direction sizing up a young Caishian, a half dwarf a and kobold. Mogan clears his throat and speaks.

Mogan: "Why'd you kill him?"

Duelist: "That's none of your business stranger. What's a mule like you doing in a place like this?"

Mogan: -Answers in a tone that indicates he's not fond of the derogatory term 'mule', applied to half dwarves like himself. "That's not very polite." He complains.

Duelist: Turns to face the three of you, sword still drawn. "Yeah? You think you can teach me some manners than?" He asks with a taunting tone.

[Svexyn: What do you do? Any aggressive action will require an initiative roll first.]

Svexyn, Folg and Mogan

Svexyn:

Neither Folg nor Mogan had taken the bet, but he sees that others in the crowd seemed to have also had the same notion on taking the chance to make a few coins exchange hands. As the Half-Orc was stabbed in the neck, Svexyn was tempted to intervene, but didn't know who else this swashbuckler had as friends nearby. Instead, the scene and battle took too short of a time to get an idea of the man. That is, until the man seemed to take interest in Mogan and seemingly challenged the half-dwarf. Not wanting to watch this guy poke holes in his hired hand, Svexyn decides it is time to speak up.

"Apologies for the half-dwarf. We are simple travelers looking for opportunities. Seems as though we may have one here. For a small fee, we could dispose of that body, since it is your claim by right of duel. Say, five gold pieces for salvage rights? Me and my associates can then drag it off away from the inn. If that's agreeable."

Svexyn also had his ulterior motives, as his aura switched to that of healing and hoped it would be enough. The half orc could prove useful, once it was away from the crowd, regains consciousness and hopefully provides some insights. Svexyn figures saving its life might warrant some information in return. If the stranger agreed to the salvage terms, Svexyn would enter the inn to get some supplies while Mogan and Folg kept watch over the body. Svexyn had an idea of what to buy, hoping the inn had the supplies needed. A shovel, tent, camping supplies, as it might be best to stay outside tonight with what Svexyn had in mind...

[Intent on stopping the half orc from dying out, stabilizing it with his healing aura, then allowing it to stay at negative HP until he can return to drag him off.]