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The sabre tooth does not like being told to hold back, but complies. Meanwhile, Aidan dives beneath the burning cart, the danger of the cart collapsing from the flames is judged to be less than standing up to the spiders and their riders. Wow he cannot help to think, it is warm under here!
Abbas stands toe to toe with the feral goblin, doing his best to stop the creature. The first blow strikes the goblin a glancing blow, and as it does Abbas hears a distinct "crack" sound, but not like a bone snapping or the like. In fact, the staff is repelled from this creature, and he can feel it push away. But what really interests him is that the feral things face changes in an instant. Gone is the swagger and bravado, and in its place pain and rage tie for control. Is that fear lurking back there as well? The second swing misses, but what matter. This simple warrior knows he has achieved some advantage.
Watching the Hobgoblin flee, Taedric briefly considers running it down, but then looks at the incoming goblin cavalry. Out of my reach at the moment, and likely to inspire the remaining archers. "Let's break them before that happens, Trumps," he says, wheeling in the saddle and heading toward the nearest archer.
AC 10, Touch 10, Flat-footed 9
CMD 13
Hit Points: 6/12
Location: e44
Weapon Equipped: Lucerne Hammer +3 (1d10+1) {Reach, Brace}
Trumps:
AC 14/10/12; CMD 14 (18 vs. trip); Hit Points: 8/17
Mounted Combat (vs. first attack vs. Trumps):
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Abbas watches the feral goblin become a little more reckless and its wild swings a touch more frantic.
So Abbas opens up his side to the morningstar, ready to trap it under one arm. While the goblin would be pulling it free, his face and neck would be open to a quick single sweeping blow where his full force would be in the follow through out and down towards the ground.
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Taedric would make his scion proud this night, unarmoured he has run at danger again, and again, and then again still. His aim hits a glancing blow to the goblin who responds by running. In fact, the group of them take to thier heels, but further south, the hobgoblin has made the creatures rally to some degree. They have formed sloppy ranks and are preparing to counter-attack.
Abbas opponent swings wildly, but in his desperation actually connects! The blow is uncontrolled though, and Abbas rolls with it minimiziing the damage.
The spider riders are having trouble. They like the fire, but thier mounts do not, and it is a war of wills to control them and move them toward the burning cart.
Seneca moves more slowly now, trying to use the dark, the shrubs, and the distraction of the burning cart to hide him.
And manages to kick a rock loudly across the ground. Raising his symbol one last time, he calls on the Prince of Darkness again.
AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10 (+1 Dex, +1 Dodge)
hp 4/10
Weapon Equipped Crossbow, Light +1 (1d8/19-20/x2)
Channel Negative Energy 0/4 remain
With the spiders fighting their riders, Pluchak decided to help them out. He rushes up and stabs one of the goblins. If the spider wants to run, Pluchak will let it go. As the spear enters the rider Pluchak let out a thunderous roar to give them something else to fear.
Aidan steps out from the cover of the wagon as he hears the scream of the goblin, intending to sling his stone towards a spider-mounted goblin, but the stone is simply too irregular a shape to be of any use. It tumbles lazily from it's berth, and Aidan readies his staff with a curse, and a brief plee to the heavens.
Erastil protect me!
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Seneca may not be the stealthiest member of this group, but his faith is rewarded. Despite giving ample warning to his presence, his enemies almost all fail to resist the unholy energy he sends coursing through them.
Pluchak is brutal, and efficient, the green skin does not even have a chance to look back from Seneca as the spear drives through him. He clutches his throat which is now just a ragged opening and drools blood all over the spider beneath him as he slides to the ground.
Aidan's rock goes well wide of it's intended target landing near Seneca.
Abbas is in the zone. The creature before him is his only focus. He swings the new staff and places the blow right on the creatures face. The staff makes the crack again, and is again repelled from the enemy. The feral goblin lets go of its weapon and staggers back looking slack jawed at Abbas. Then it falls to its knees, and soundlessly face plants, not moving again.
Seeing the Hobgoblin start trying to regroup, Taedric glares, "Looks like that one didn't learn his lesson yet, Trumps." He wheels his mount around once more, this time charging into the mass of goblins, thinking, Desna, keep smiling, Lady, and yet shouting, "Haven't I killed enough of you, yet?"
AC 10, Touch 10, Flat-footed 9
CMD 13
Hit Points: 6/12
Location: p44
Weapon Equipped: Lucerne Hammer +3 (1d10+1) {Reach, Brace}
Trumps:
AC 14/10/12; CMD 14 (18 vs. trip); Hit Points: 8/17
Mounted Combat (vs. first attack vs. Trumps):
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Answering the hogoblins rallying call is the last mistake Taedric's target makes. His aim continues to be true and the goblin is crumpled in a single hit.
The goblins are collectively dispirited. The hobgoblin tries to have them hold their ranks, but to no avail. He realizes that a solo stand is a suicidal mission, and he joins them in flight, and all this does nothing to help the spider riders wish to stay. The spiders are all too happy to get away from the fire, and unless any of you wish to pursue, this combat is over.
Aidan slings a few stones after the spiders to keep them moving, but ultimately, lets them go.
Best be off while they regroup. We should strive to get to the town proper- we'll move quickly without armor.
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Abbas moves round and inside the cart carefully, searching for enemies first and then going through the bodies for valuables - just like the others did. Afterwards he heads back to the cottage with the staff.
He looks around for the spirit. The shod staff of glittering lights he lifts up in open hands. "Thanks my Lady."
"That sounds like a great idea Aidan. I'm not pushing out luck any longer. But, I will take a couple seconds to retrieve my armor and shield. I'll wait to put the armor on though." Seneca retrieve his armor and things from the herbalist's dwelling and his shield from the field of battle. A few moments later, he is ready to join everyone on the journey back to town.
Pluchak was heaving when he finished killing his last goblin. His spear was good and bloody now, and although he didn't have blood on his face like after the last battle, he felt like he had accomplished something. He roared into the night after the fleeing goblinoids cursing in orcish with acidic spittle flying from his mouth next to the burning cart.
As his friends made preparations to leave, Pluchak smiled a toothy grin at them. "Yes, let's go. I don't think we have anything more to prove. We are shown to have strength, and they are shown to have cowardice."
He puts a hand on Seneca's shoulder and told him, "I'm sure your god will honor your bravery in the morning."
The half-orc also said to Abbas, "That's a fine stick your invisible woman gave you. Let me know if she has a sister." The half orc roared again, but this time with laughter and relief.
Once all agree and gather their gear, the human takes off at an easy jog. Though he is frail, his muscles thin and his frame slight, he can surely move. His tawny companion attends him on his right, only a step back, at an easier lope. They move as one through hours of such travel, and the miles melt easily away.
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"I killed the bad goblin. Sorry for leaving you. What happened?" He smiles around to see that everyone is not dead. "Tadric killed a big man with his horse spear. Did you see that!"
He keeps looking around for the staff's owner. "Nice staff. Got gold lights in it, it did. Don't know about sister when she never talks to me. Still ask though for you."
He makes sure to thank all the others, clapping Pluchak back on the shoulder in return. He watches Aidan and his preparations for running away. "I got armour on. Not sleep 'member when they attack? You want me to take this off like you lot?"
Abbas asks the ghost about a sister for Pluchak if she is around. Also if she wants the staff back under the hearth.
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DM Sigil Only
Abbas checks over the other bodies, especially the hobgoblin because that is what they wanted done before. He hands over whatever gold and magical artefacts he finds to Taedric and Pluchak.
Taedric follows the fleeing goblins to the edge of the forest, making mock charges to ensure that none of them rediscover their courage. He leans forward in the saddle and scratches Trumps' fur behind the ears, [b}"Well done old friend. Both you and Desna were with me this night."[/b]
Taedric rides back to join the others, swinging by to retrieve his fallen lance on the way.
"I think we have at least a bit of time before they try to regroup -- time enough to search the bodies and their wagon...", his voice trails off, as the adrenaline of combat stops and his mind catches up with events, I wonder what that thing was..... and... I killed an Ogre, and fought off an assault, without so much as a stitch of armour? Oh, Desna, you truly have smiled upon me tongiht!
He blanches for a moment, then shakes his head, and continues in a firmer voice, "However, if we're to leave quickly, could someone help me into my armour? Trumps and I can range behind you as we head back to town -- I would think that we can keep the fear of us in them and discourage, or at least, slow any pursuit."
Aidan, seeming to be on the verge of leaving, frowns at the delay, but his voice betrays no annoyance.
Very well. Abbas, march how thee would like. Taedric, I shall aid you to don thine armor; though it would seem you need none.
He looks to the sky, judging its mood.
With Erastil's mercy, it would rain, and cover our scent and track.
Hearing Aidan's prayer, Seneca thinks, "Aye, clever Asmodeus, a little rain would be quite welcome...or a nice distraction in the woods.
Pluchak made sure they had everything and marched off into the woods behind Aidan and Seneca. With Abbas behind them, they set off on a less than leisurely pace, hoping to find their way back to the village as soon as they could. Having darkvision, Pluchak stays a little away from sources of light and tries to keep an eye out for trouble.
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The search is made with urgency. Those left standing realize that this may not be true if their foes rally, or worse get reinforcements.
The overturned cart is unremarkable on the outside except that it has a large heavy black or grey box mounted to it, but inside, well you may wish you had not looked. There is offal and straw that reeks of urine. There is also a a leg from a human or humanoid, with clear bites taken out of it. The feral goblins dinner?
With on cart overturned, and another on fire, oh, just now it collapse do be careful of the spray of sparks!, you have limited options to bring back much of your spoils. What are your priorities?
Seneca quickly sweeps through the battlefield, trying to detect magic on any of our fallen foes.
Aidan rechecks his waterproofed bag, assuring himself the corpse flower and other assorted herbs are present. After defusing his trap and adding it to the pack carried by Tkurzhan, he helps Seneca detect magic and furthermore looks for any furs or blankets that might aid his comrades.
Erastil's bow it'll be chilled tonight. Best try our fortitude in it, me thinks.
Come to think of it, Taedric, perhaps it would be best if Abbas helped you into this.... This... Contraption.
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"No problem. I can do that for a fine warrior like Taedric!"
Abbas makes several neat piles of all the coins and other bits. "She is gone. What can we do with her staff? Shall I put it back under the fireplace?"
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other unable to decide what to do with the magical quarterstaff. He openly looks at the rest of the party with the staff held out to them.
"Its not mine. I got mine there." Abbas points at the plain staff that he started the journey out with.
Never had a good staff. It hit hard and swung quick.
"Abbas, I think she means for you to have it. She would have asked you to replace it if that was her wish. The dead have no need of such protection."
Pluchak makes sure he gets the loot and weapons from the hobgoblin because it might actually be useful if the town gets attacked. Not too many people who are small in the village who could use goblin arms and armor.
"I'd hold on to it. If you put it back, a Hobgoblin could get it. Better hold on to it unless she wants something done with it. We should probably get going though. We got quite a ways to go."
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Abbas nods slowly at Seneca, almost against his will. He tucks the old staff across and under the backpack straps so that he can use the new shiny one for now.
"Not fit for goblins. Too good."
Abbas will try his best to keep up with the rest on the march back. But he is moving much slower than most of the others.
"You can take the Lady her flower. I am slow. You go first. I will follow."
"Trumps has some space in his saddlebags, but not much. And, Abbas, I believe that Pluchak has it right -- anything we leave behind will likely be fouled by the goblins, and I doubt the lady would want that."
Taedric wiggles into his breastplate and whispers, "Thank you for the aid, Abbas."
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These men leave the burned home of the herbalist behind them, and let the shadows of night and shroud of cold take this place of carnage. Proceeding back to the path the heroes are aware that they are watched most of the time. A glimps of a goblin there. A wolf cry (how Trumps bristles!) and then an answer as if they were calculating some primitive trigonometry. Hours pass.
They draw close and then seem to fall back, and then close again. Your nerves are jangled as you wait for an assault that never quite materializes. And then you see it. The watch lights of Haugins Ear. You are far enough away that you are not likely to be seen. If you enter the town now there will be lots of questions (at least), but can you survive the rest of the night in the woods?
Aidan does not slow his pace in the least as the ragged group approaches the town. He has been in the lead from the very start, his relentless, even cruel, pace the constant companion of the wounded heroes.
The guards will question our arrival, and secrecy is paramount.
To the group's infinite relief, the druid slows to a walk.
Seneca, have thee concoct a tale of our misfortunes that involves no mention of our truer intent, nor our secretive mistress or mission. Mayhap we are merchants on this cruel and dangerous road?
Pluchak frowns, he was halfway decent at lying, but he knew most of the Rough Bloods, and most of them knew him. "That plan might be fine for you, but being the only Half-Orc in town makes me a bit more recognizable than the average passing merchant. Besides, half the town saw us gather up and go yesterday. Best thing we could do is try to be a little honest.
"Like say we went out to the herbalist yesterday because you wanted to ask her some questions or something like that, intending to spend the night. Then we found the place destroyed and we fought off some goblins and just made it back now. No need to mention our real errand, but the lie that is closest to the truth is always a better plan."
Pluchak, thee amaze near constantly with thine talent. Alas, deception is not my domain, lest it be on the field of battle, and then nay even in sole combat.