A1- Lost Knowledge of Arcanix(Wik Judging)

[Kaodi]

Makharat curses in anger, and looks to see if he can make a move for the ladder without drawing an attack from the two warriors on the ground.

 

[Moggthegob]

Yes, the other two have been dropped via links and Wulfcyne.

 

[Dirk Nightbreese]

Gazing intently at the human's mask, as the man first falters to his knees and then keels over, the Brelish soldier says not a word. Wrenching the tripointed black iron head of his weapon free, Wulfcyne did not come to a halt there. With a final look at the dead, the looming man broke for the large vault door, his right hand going to a dark red spot where breastplate and hip met. A long bleeding slash adorned his left arm, the knobby hand still gripping the light ash haft of the poker.

Gaining the large arcane portal, Wulfcyne bends a shoulder to it and closes it, shutting the group within the vault.

Placing his back to it, the man took a few deep inhalations of air through bellowing nostrils, and drew forth his shield, while speaking urgently, 'Nicely done, all. We gots two left, up topside. Shouldn we question one o' these here? Or make way for those tha escaped righ'away? At any rate, afore we fight again, I'd have ta be askin' one o' you ladies to close one o' thesein wounds, if it pleases."

Storm blue eyes dart to the Spear wielding hobgoblin and then the armored Valenar before moving to watch the floor above for movement.

 

[Bront]

OOC: Who's still up? Valahandra will likely charge them. Valahandra's charge (1d20+9=28, 1d6+3=5), Valahandra's charge crit confirm (1d20+9=13, 1d6+3=8)

 

[Kaodi]

Sliding his longsword back into its scabbard, Makharat makes a move for the ladder and scrambles up towards where the woman with the lute was.

" Your little tricks won't stop me from ripping your entrails from your body, accursed wench! " he says furiously.

 

[Moggthegob]

The only one still there is the Bard up top who upon seeing makharat climb towards him throws up his hands in surrender.

Combat over.

The mask the man was wearing is a plain black mask with eye holes.
And you believe you see red streaks as the mask slides when the man hit the ground.

 

[Dirk Nightbreese]

ooc; Is the Bard male or female? Half Elven though, right?

Wulfcyne comfortably bears the weight of Trident and heavy silvered steel bound wooden shield, the snarling bear of Breland etched into the thick central cap, as he moves first to the human with the sword who he felled.

Knowing Makharat to have the situation above well in hand, the stout warrior who continues to bleed from the wounds in his arm and gut, kneels and begins to search the man's body, Searching Masked Man (1d20+3=13)

Eyes upon his task, Wulfcyne mentions over his shoulder, 'Wha' o' the Vanishin' Wizard? Were that some illusion magery a'work? He had papers in'iz hand, no doubt important, neh?'

Switching to the harsh tongue of the Dargunni, the warrior spits some phrase,
[sblock=goblin]
Koh'Tara, who should we question?
[/sblock]

 

[Mellubb]

Links remains near Nuria looking for movement around the room.

 

[Dirk Nightbreese]

Spotting the Warforged's bloody spiked links, Wulfcyne nods to him respectfully, mentioning reassuringly, 'Ye know wha' yer 'bout, Links. I be honored ta have ye here among us'n. Keep the Watch an hold fast.'

Bending back to the masked man, the looming Brelander searches for any indication of his identity as well as for any valuables upon him.

 

[Bront]

Valahandra looks around for injured comrads.