The Game of Kings

Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen, Morika

"Damn... just damn..." Doral thinks to himself as he watches his allies slam into the bugbear. If they wanted to make this a quiet operation, such a plan was surely ruined now. Gathering his wits he cast another whelm at his foe. A live but weakened prisoner may be a worthwhile source of intelligence at this juncture. He also moves over the body of the sleeping man he knocked out earlier, so that he may cut his throat the next round.
 

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Morika grinned at the bugbear, her face obscenely happy under her nausea. Casting around for something hard and portable to use for a weapon, Morika will grab a chair to smash the bugbear over the head with.

OOC: If there's a chair or something in range, she'll grab that to use an as improvised weapon. If not, she'll back up to be ready to charge next round with her horns.
 

Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen, Morika

"Fall you foul villain..." Partash mutters under his breath as he keeps raising his mace to strike the bugbear.
 

Dragen sighed.

Resigned to doing nothing important in the fight by the actions of his fellow party members, Dragen instead directed his arrows at the fallen, beginning to methodically shoot them to make certain they were dead.
 
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Streets of Port Verge (nighttime) – Vhir, Glasia

Vhir and Glasia press on quickly through the wet night, the determined kobold leading them through the dark streets towards the other inn with a thoughtless ease. Almost as soon as they left the main boulevard, the young woman noticed her form was becoming visible again. She was at first a mere trace under the light of the streetlamps they were striding past, but the spell faded quickly and she soon returned to full visibility. Without time to stop, Vhir led them around two more corners, and the glow of the Argotch Inn came into view at the end of the street by the docks.

A few people had gathered on the wet paving stones across from the inn windows, by the look of them would-be patrons of the adjoining bar. They seemed to be hesitantly assessing the movement within. As a young girl and an annoyed-looking halfling approached, they quickly looked nervously about and then continued on their way up the street and back into the dark city, as if they had seen nothing.

Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen, Morika

Pausing only momentarily to witness Morika’s startling entrance, Doral resumed his focus on the careful words of his incantation. Once again the struggling bugbear’s mind yielded to Doral’s spell, further breaking his resolve against the warforged. Seeing that his spell had done its work, the beguiler slipped quietly towards the sleeping man on the floor near the desk.

In a surge of retaliation to Doral’s unseen assault and to the slowly winning warforged, the bugbear let loose a growl of haughty defiance. This time he purposefully locked arms with his metallic foe, and pulled Carver’s abdomen downwards to meet his swiftly approaching knee. Nevertheless, the bugbear’s attempt to knee Carver and escape was in vain, and his kneecap rang loudly against Carver’s sturdy adamantine armor. He loosed a small string of unintelligible curses and clenched his teeth, tenderly dropping pulling his leg back to shield his wounded knee.

Carver, however, would not allow such an opportunity to pass, and he unflinchingly kicked the bugbear. Sure enough, an adamantine boot made contact with the bugbear’s leg, shattering his kneecap. The bugbear held none back in his ensuing cry of pain, now well beyond words.

The others made short work of him. Partash thrust the blunt wooden handle of his mace into the bugbear’s hard skull again, pushing him down towards the ground forcefully. The bugbear’s scream was reduced to a deep and guttural howl. Then Morika followed suit with lovely wrought-iron candelabra she found by the stairs. The smoke from the five candles, which extinguished as she swung, traced a wide circle through the air, and the curling ironwork left a near-perfect impression copied onto his forehead.

The bugbear’s last groans quieted as the warrior fell unconscious, emitting only a faint rasping breath. Everyone else stopped, their minds and bodies momentarily subdued in that moment of suspended time that follows every intense fight. Yet seemingly immune to such effects, Dragen strode casually over to the fallen woman, peered down at her faintest dying breaths, and coolly put another arrow through her throat.

The quick thud broke the silence, and marked the end of their first battle together as a group. Before anyone could move or speak, however, there was a sudden rush of motion as the terrified goblin darted out from behind the front desk and sprinted for the front door.

“By the gods, in my own inn!” He swung open his door, and then nearly ran into a halfling who was hurrying in. Argotch stopped momentarily to stare in confusion at his new guests, before yelling emotively at the halfling, “In my own inn!” and continuing on into the rain.

There was another pause as the newcomers looked over the wreckage and blood smears that were once an inn lobby. Only Partash could see through Vhir’s guise and recognize him immediately, though Doral quickly figured formed a guess that it was him by his slightly odd and familiar posture and gait.


[sblock="Final Combat Info"]Doral Kinsman
14 HP
AC 17
AP 7
Mindlinked

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20
AP 7
Bull’s Strength

Partash
22 HP
AC 16 + 2
AP 7
Minklinked
Shield of Faith


Dragen Kessler
37 HP
AC 16
AP 7

Morika Kevsecks
34 HP
AC 12 [no armor or shield]
AP 6
Shifted
Sickened


Vhir
21 HP
AP 7
Disguised

Glasia Domarus
11 HP
AP 7[/sblock]
 

"Hello kobold," Doral says to the 'halfling' without emotion as he bends over, takes out his knife, and slits the throat of the trident-wielding, unconscious warrior. As he goes through the man's belongings for anything of interest or value, he adds, "Do you think you can quickly interrogate the bugbear for where are target is located? Maybe we can salvage this wreck of a mission, though I'm still contemplating how we'll escape this place."
 

Carver rises again, grabing his morningstar and shield and putting them away. "Doral, Parlinor, are you ok? It appears my attempt to neutralize the bugbear seems to have been successfull. I hope I didn't break him beyond repair."
 

Morika whirls at Doral's words, blinking heavily at the sight of a halfling instead of a kobold. Within her her beast spirit raged, telling her to reduce the bugbear to his fundemental parts with only her bare hands, to bash him to red paste, to paint the ceiling with his blood... Through her aching head Morika took several large breaths, and with a convulsive shudder, let her beast spirit retire to within her breast again.

"Doral... that's a halfling..." she finally managed to get out, trying to point out the obvious. Now that the song of battle no longer played in her blood, her hangover was reexerting itself with a vengence and all she wanted to do was sleep right here on the bloody pub floor.
 

Deuce Traveler said:
"Hello kobold," Doral says to the 'halfling' without emotion as he bends over, takes out his knife, and slits the throat of the trident-wielding, unconscious warrior. As he goes through the man's belongings for anything of interest or value, he adds, "Do you think you can quickly interrogate the bugbear for where are target is located? Maybe we can salvage this wreck of a mission, though I'm still contemplating how we'll escape this place."
The newcomer did not immediately address Doral's question, instead looking around the wreckage of the inn. He quickly put down his cursed burden of a cage, not looking back at the tremulous girl that had followed him. A wry, "I see you made it out as well" was directed at the bowman, but he said nothing else for a moment, staring intently around. [Vhir detects magic and peers about the fallen.]

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
"Doral... that's a halfling..." she finally managed to get out, trying to point out the obvious.
The 'halfling' smirked. "Oh, indeed, dear shifter. Nothing more than a wretched halfling." Getting back to business, the 'halfling' rubbed his chin, his devious mind working quickly. "Now, we can interrogate the prisoner, but we will need a safe place to do so. That cursed goblin is probably getting the watch right now. Dragen may be able to put an arrow into him before he gets that far, but it may be best to fade into the night instead of drawing more attention to ourselves. Anyone have suggestions of where we should hole up? Construct, you have a residence nearby, correct?"
 

Glasia lets the enchantment fall from around her where she stands outside as she hears the group start to discuss the plans. Entering the room, she reaches out and takes the cage from Vhir with a smile and nod of thanks.

"So long as Carver isn't so well known that inquiries might lead those we seek to hide from straight to us, that should work nicely," she suggests.

Looking around the room, she seems to notice the state of the inn. "So much blood..." Eyes wide, she looks to her companions. "Is anybody hurt? I have potions that can help heal."
 

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