Legacy of the Silver Dragon - Day 2 (Interlude)

[gambler1650]

One of the goblins gets distracted by Antares' shout and looks over, just in time to take Muzdin's blow to the skill - the sound of which is audible even across the fence. The goblin drops instantly.

Goldhammer is close enough to attack one of the Goblins (if it survives I'm rolling his attack on Gregof now):
DR: 4 (miss)

The other goblin gets to shoot before Stellan arrives.
DR: 18 (hit), damage 3

Gregof staggers again, but the healing has prevented this from being a mortal wound. He staggers towards the Goblin that attacked him just as Stellan gets there and stabs with his spear.

Stellan's attack: DR: 16 (hit), Damage: 1
The goblin stays upright but looks like he's a bit nervous.

OOC: Goldhammer, roll a D20 and a d4+1 for your warhammer damage.

 

[Goldhammer]

Bellowing her warcry to her goddess, Beatrix charges the goblin and swings her mighty warhammer.

1d20=1
1d4+1=3

Guessing that's a miss.

 

[Binder Fred]

OOC: Chances are, yes. You still have this round to clobber him though.

"They... truly do not like him," mentions the elf, blinking at the pair of viscious attacks against the good captain -- and feeling slightly silly behind his fence now.

A quick look around reveals no other threats, for the moment <correct me, Gambler>.

Should he wait, guarding, hoping a clear target will free itself from the melee? Four against two seems adequate enough odds, probably, and yet what if more of the goblins should arrive? Should they not make ready to retreat? Pushed by curiosity as much as any structured thought, Antares leverages himself over the wooden barrier and sneaks over to the three fallen green ones, feeling very exposed indeed...

Once there, he crouches in the carpet of dead leaves and reluctantly, temporarily takes widened eyes away from the too-close horizons - pregnant all with fiendishly endless potentials - to flick his gaze over the newness that are the victims of his own spell, one hand even going so far as to reach down to lightly prod a delicately laboring chest, a sharpened tooth, as if he suspects them of being somehow illusionary, figments of his own mad imagination.

OOC: Keep an eye out for any other threats from any other quarter (and immediately warn his companions if it should materialize). Otherwise, Antares will examine the three sleeping goblins this round. Any insignias, tattoos, symbols (magical or otherwise) or clan markings? Any gear of note and/or anything that seems out of place (non-goblin equipment, for example)? Lastly, what does Antares know, if anything, of goblins in the area and this tribe in perticular? Oh, don't suppose it looks like the main body of the town guards is going to get here anytime soon, right?

 

[Goldhammer]

Missing her target, Beatrix tries to get the goblin with a backhand swing. "Be crushed under the might of Malborka!" She cries, bringing her hammer down.

1d20=10
1d4+1=2

 

[gambler1650]

Beatrix's second attack misses again, although barely. The nearness of the huge hammer to the creature's face, and seeing foes all around, with all of the visible other goblins downed unnerves the goblin. He drops the shortbow, and holds his hands out in surrender. "No hit! No hit!" it squeals.

No other goblins are apparent, and Alekan and a couple of the other guards are visible running from the center of the village towards the commotion.

Gregof moves down the hill towards the goblin, but then staggers. He lifts a hand to his forehand, and the party can see that he's sweating profusely - more than would probably be expected even with the recent level of exertion he used. "Something's not... not right."

Antares looks over the goblins, who are all dressed in ragged fabric clothes that are poorly made. Their weapons are simple and somewhat crude in appearance - shortbows on all of them, and simple daggers in their belts. Each has a few silver pieces (among the three sleepers, a total of 20 sterlings). One has a scroll in his pocket with some scrawls on it. But he doesn't have time to look it over before Gregof's almost fall.

 

[Binder Fred]

"Well and efficiently done?" congratulates the starry-robbed mage, although he tries not to look too long at the splotch staining the grass crimson and carmine(*) around the dead one... "But perhaps for now we -ah- should move back to a more defens-"

Just then Gregof almost falls.

The conclusion is easy to reach, imbedded as it is in innumerable goblin lore: "Poison?!" Antares forcibly straightens from his crouch, right hand gripping the just-found scroll perhaps a bit too tightly...

OOC: Tag those closer to Gregof than he is. If we're still in rounds, call it a delay. (Rather enjoying this, folks ) * Or are they really "green bloods" maybe? "Black-hearted as the night"?

 

[Goldhammer]

"Vile runt! I should be crushing you right now." Beatrix bellows, her hammer hovering just above the cowering goblin's head. "But my goddess, the great Malborka is as kind as she is strong and vast."

The massive priestess withdrawals her weapon for the moment.

"It is by her mercy that shall be having a chance to live today. Now tell me, what were you and your ilk doing in this town, scaring the good townsfolk?"

 

[gambler1650]

Stellan moves to Gregof's side, putting an arm around the man's waist. And looks over at Antares, "But... but.. Muzdin healed him. Right?" He looks over at Muzdin. Nevertheless Stellan starts to urge Gregof towards the town, "Where.. where should we go? The healer? One of the temples?"

Other militia arrive on the scene and help to support their leader. Three in total, including Alekan. One looks at the sleeping goblins, "Vile bastards..." and pulls out his sword moving towards them. The one that Beatrix is threatening falls to its knees in front of her, babbling, "Malborka. Malborka is good. Very good. Don't hurt."

OOC: We aren't in rounds any more. The last goblin awake has surrendered. And their blood is red.

 

[Voda Vosa]

"Filthy maggots must have poisoned their arrows, take the captian to the temple, quickly! I have no way to deal with poison now." Muzdim says. "Listen up men, take the goblins to the cells, they'll rot there until we clear this mess out, don't kill them, they're going to answer some questions." Soldiers needed a strong commanding voice to not flee like peasants, war has tought Muzdim so much; and with Gregof poisoned, he stepped up to the role. "Hear me? I don't want to see dead goblins now, I want them to spill their guts on a different way."

 

[Binder Fred]

Stellan moves to Gregof's side, putting an arm around the man's waist. And looks over at Antares, "But... but.. Muzdin healed him. Right?" He looks over at Muzdin. Nevertheless Stellan starts to urge Gregof towards the town, "Where.. where should we go? The healer? One of the temples?"

"I fear illnesses of the blood might not have been covered?" Antares takes hurried steps towards the two, intending to help, then stops just as abruptly.

What can he do should he get there? Stare impotently? Theorize on the transient nature of existence and poisons in general (although worthy subjects in and of themselves)? Maybe he can at the least support the captain's faltering steps, speed him on his way to much needed healing? Or...

"Pray ask if he has an antidote?" he suggests, closing instead with the large armoured woman they met yester while simultaneously signaling his apology that Stellan should probably go ahead without him for now? "Or if he knows of one?" he adds after a fractional pause. Surely, being mortal and thus fallible, they may sometimes prick themselves on their own arrows?

He stares down at the little man with obvious, unabashed curiosity.

"Listen up men, take the goblins to the cells, they'll rot there until we clear this mess out, don't kill them, they're going to answer some questions." Soldiers needed a strong commanding voice to not flee like peasants, war has tought Muzdim so much; and with Gregof poisoned, he stepped up to the role. "Hear me? I don't want to see dead goblins now, I want them to spill their guts on a different way."

Some small distance behind them the young elven mage relaxes suddenly tensed muscles and fires a grateful look Muzdin's way: there will likely not be further massacres this day! And yet the captain's situation remains dire... What else can they possibly do? Distressed green eyes stare this way and that back towards the town. Speed. They need speed!

OOC: Antares will look around at the surrounding houses and farms. Does any have a horse (plow or otherwise), Gambler? An already hitched cart would of course be the absolute, luckiest best-case. If he spots one of the above, he'll immediately direct Gregof and those supporting him that way.