D&D 5E Ironfang Invasion (IC)

[River Song]

"Well it looks like I'm empty," Vin nudges his empty tankard forwards. "Grab a seat friend, my name is Vin and this slice of heaven is Corsa."

 

[JustinCase]

"Ma'am," Flint acknowledges Corsa but quickly returns his attention to the elf.

"Thank you, Vin. My name is Flint Stronginthearm, formerly from Kraggodan. A pleasure."

After glancing back at the bar to check whether his order was received, the dwarf takes a seat next to Vin and continues, "I have never met an elf before. Not up close, anyway."

Another wink, followed by a broad grin from the not-completely-sober dwarf. Some drops of ale linger in his otherwise well-groomed beard, and the dwarf is a little closer to the eladrin than is comfortable. The faintest whiff of perfume can be detected around him.

"So where are you two from?"

 

[Greenmtn]

Harb Half-Elf Paladin

Harb enjoys the stories for the most part. Exaggerated stories were he fondest memories.

After the Sisters story, at Lals instruction, hestares into the tankard he has been nursing as he swirls the brown liquid around, lost in thought. Each wave of liquid swirling around in the cup seeming to wash away the face he sees in it only to replace it with another. He takes a sip, sets the tankard down and takes a deep breath. He looks to Lal and nods. "I do like the darker ales. More flavor than the light ones I say." He forces a smile and looks to the center of the room for the next story hoping it's more jovial.

Thankful for the laugh the story about the Dwarf and the barmaid gives him he smiles genuinely and leans towards Lal slightly to be heard over the crowd. He was thankful for this strangers company and genuinely liked him.

"One of the camps I was in, there was a horribly ugly camp follower. A drunken pikeman refused her first advance. Saying that she were far to ugly for the price she was asking. She told him she was only asking so much because the gold would need to make it worth her time, because she was sure his performance wouldn't"

Harb told his story to the table but had no interest in being the center of attention, Watching Flint's performance as he approaches the latest storytellers table he then scanned the room, his mood bright, seeming to feed off the lighthearted atmosphere.

A battle raging inside him. He longed for the days when relaxing wasn't so much work.

 

[Jason.knepper]

Hearing the old camp tale, Raux couldn't help but add, "Yeah but the way I heard it, he proved her so wrong, she gave the money back!" Raux nods to the half-elf and lifts his flask, and with a wink adds, "'Course, it was one of my old sergeants that told me that tale and he insisted that he was the pikeman, so I doubt it's any truer than a blind bowman's aim." With that Raux took a moment to size up the paladin and then settled back into his seat nearby and into the sights and sounds of the festival around him.

 

[River Song]

"Oh from here and there. Nothing I really called home." he offers evasively. "However, drifting around aimlessly leads to a light purse. Are you a local? Do you know of any work in the area?

 

[SunGold]

Corsa grins at Vin's introduction of her and nods in greeting to Flint, but she doesn't bother to answer the dwarf's question. She doubts he'd even hear her if she spoke, and really, who could blame him?

 

[eayres33]

After several crowd members share their own boasts and jokes, the room quiets down eventually someone tops off Aubrin’s tankard and pushes her back into the center of the room.

“All right, all right! Don’t shove,” she slurs a bit. “Okay Cayden strike me down if this isn’t true—“
The front door explodes into flinders. A cry of agony pierces the chaos. Aubrin lies on the floor, gasping and clutching at the blood gushing from a wound in her chest. A ballista bolt still quivers in the wall behind her.

Three hobgoblins in military dress stand beyond the shattered door, blades drawn. Behind them, lit by the glow of burning homes, dozen—perhaps, hundreds of hobgoblin soldiers march the street. Phaendar burns, shouts of celebration now replaced by the panicked screams of the frightened and dying. Behind them, above the flames and humble rooftops, rises a tower of black stone.

The largest of the three hobgoblins stepped forward, “Throw down your weapons and submit to be bound. Do that now, and you may live through the night!”

GM: The Hobgoblins get a surprise round which they use to attempt to intimidate those present. Please roll initiative; we will be doing group initiative. So we will average the rolls for each side and then each side will go. Hobgoblin initiative average =12 Hobgoblin: 1D20+2 = [5]+2 = 7 [URL="http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=161303"]_: 1D20+2 = [4]+2 = 6 _: 1D20+2 = [20]+2 = 22 The room is 35 feet by 30 feet The bar is on the NE wall and is five feet deep and twenty feet wide. Stairs take up 15 feet on the southern wall, (5ft wide) starting on the SE corner. The Hobgoblins burst in the door and are standing in three squares starting in the SW corner and stretching alongst the wall until they hit the bottom of the stairs. Aubrin is laying 10ft from the SE most hobgoblin towards the bar. There is an NPC behind the bar one, at the bar and one in the NW corner of the room. Map for clarity 06/01 is NPC Elf, 05/04 is NPC human, 05/05 is NPC Human Bartender 06/01 is Sister Grace 06/o4 is Harb 05/03 is Corsa 04/02 is Vin 04/04 is Flint 02/05 is Lal 01/04 is Raux 02/02 is Aubrin

 

[SunGold]

Corsa stands quickly and draws both blades, making her intentions clear.

OOC: Initiative: 1D20+2 = [11]+2 = 13

 

[River Song]

Rising to his feet Vin laughs, "Bound?" he then smirks. "Never on a first date princess!"

[roll0]

 

[Charwoman Gene]

"You picked the wrong tavern," Sister Grace says, taking up her mace and shield.
Initiative: 1D20 = [16] = 16