The empty alley exploded into chaos as crossbow bolts rained suddenly from the decrepit tenements looming on either side. Garrick, who had been leading the companions confidently despite the unfamiliar surroundings, reacted a heartbeat too slow. With no time to cry out or take cover, a vrossbow bolt pierced his throat in a burst of black ichor before he toppled limply to the refuse-strewn pavement. More quarrels bristled from his back - their guide had been caught utterly unaware and now lay lifeless.
Grim's sharp eyes glimpsed shadowy figures lining the open windows, but the knowledge came too late. A bolt slammed into her armor with jarring force, lodging deep as its glass vial of plague-ridden ichor remained intact on impact.
Nearby, Izek's honed reflexes allowed him to narrowly avoid the deadly volley, rolling and diving as bolts ricocheted off the alley stones. Orris stood transfixed, the surprise assault overcoming even his battle-trained reactions. A bolt burst wetly against his ornate armored shoulder, splattering the intricate metalwork with sizzling, contaminated ichor.
Kachilk'cha's natural chitinous plating protected her more effectively, the bolts aimed at her bouncing and skittering off her carapace. But they discharged their vile contents nonetheless, the ground at her feet quickly becoming dotted with smoking pools of the dark ichor.
The ambush unfolded with a horrifying efficiency. In mere seconds, Garrick lay dead, the rest partially exposed to the virulent plague liquid from the trap bolts. And their hidden assailants awaited above, undoubtedly ready to loose another round before the group could regroup. With precious little time or cover, the imperiled companions desperately sought some means of defense against the lethal volleys.
An overturned wagon lay nearby, scant protection but better than remaining exposed. The doorways dotting the buildings might offer refuge, assuming they weren't locked and entrances didn't contain more enemies.
Retreating back down the alley was an option. Surging ahead around the next bend could bring them out of firing range, but also carried great risk. Garrick's fresh corpse also was a potential hazard as it was splayed across awkwardly.
Seeking higher ground was another possibility - Kachilk'cha's natural wall-climbing giving her an advantage for scaling the tenement faces. Perhaps one of the companions could summon a magical shield?
No choice was clearly ideal given the relentless volleys and the ichor now eating into armor and flesh. The group would need to react quickly, each finding whatever cover, vantage or defense they could in order to withstand the onslaught, or perhaps flee. Or fight.
