Feint Whispers Chapter #3: Festival of Falling

[Tokiwong]

You emerge into the market square. Seconds later, the magistrate's office collapses in flames. Over the crackle of flames on the woods, sounds of fighting are discernable from the outskirts of the open ground and the buildings beyond. The torches light onto figures locked in battle. Many appear to be the town guards. Duvik's garrison is being pushed back into the open area as the clash of weapons sound closer and closer.

Jericho growls his grimace growing strong with rage, "Duvik's Pass is under attack, and I am missing the battle!"

Jericho charges towards the fighting howling like a wolf, "Stay strong brave soldier's of Duvik's Pass, Jericho ibn Al-Sufaed fights by your side! Stand and fight, and the lines must hold!"

Jericho will try to discern the current situation before he throws himself into the fold.

 

[Krug]

Bhartus arms his crossbow and gets ready to launch a shot. He will try to figure out who the guards are fighting, and shoot at whoever might be leading the enemy.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Norri doesn't even pause to wipe the soot off his face as he draws his crossbow, loading it as he heads to the combat, trying to get a good shot.

 

[Mirth]

"Wait, everyone!" Tarowyn calls out as the group arms themselves and leaves. "Someone needs to stay with the sheriff. We can't leave him here to heal unattended. It's obvious that the enemy wants him dead. He would be a sitting duck."

 

[Tokiwong]

"Wait, everyone!" Tarowyn calls out as the group arms themselves and leaves. "Someone needs to stay with the sheriff. We can't leave him here to heal unattended. It's obvious that the enemy wants him dead. He would be a sitting duck."

"Stay and protect him, elfy!" Jericho shouts back.

 

[Festy_Dog]

"I'll stay as well," Norri says, realising he wouldn't be much help in a full on scrap.

 

[jasamcarl]

Jericho rushes into the melee to discover that monstrous nature of the attackers. Several dozen tall, goblin-like creatures wielding their weapons in a strangley civilized manner. These are the hobgoblins that many of the slavers brought with them to oversea their 'ware'.

Init: Norri, Jericho and Whitney, Tarowyn, Town Guards, Bhartus, Hobgoblins.

The fighting has coverged in the town square some 60ft from the burning remains of the magistrate's office where the majority of the party now stands. It is now dark, making sighting targets from a range somewhat difficult, though still possible. Jericho is on the front line.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Norri bites his lip. He has only known this bunch... a day? And so much has happened! He looks around himself nervously, ready to fire on any goblinoid who rears its ugly within his line of sight.

"You bunch certainly get a lot of action!" he calls to Tarowyn above the fighting, "No wonder you're a fist and not just a hand."

 

[Tokiwong]

Jericho throws himself into the fray with a lust for life, that contrasts with his will to kill, and defeat his enemies, he will try and flank a foe, and position himself to make good use of his cleave feat if possible.

 

[Mirth]

Tarowyn stands over the body of the (hopefully recovering) sheriff, bowstring taught aiming for any unfriendly in range, prepared to fire two shots in rapid succession.

"Well now the Fist has two thumbs, I suppose," the elf says to Norri with a grim half-smile. "You did well with those picks, little sir. You should be proud of yourself. If we make it out of this firefight alive, I'll gladly shake your hand."