Chapter One

[Ao]

Marpenoth the 14th, 1372 DR.
Gaoler's Bend, Amn.

Lightning forks across the sky over Amn, as a thunderous downpour turns the road south of Esmelteran into a sea of mud and leaves.

Dusk fell, it seemed, at noon. Dark clouds rolled in from the west, claiming the sky and choking out the light. Now, not even the great harvest moon of Marpenoth breaks through the cover.

Night fell long ago.

Halfway between the great guild city of Esmelteran, and the humble border town of Brost, a modest hamlet is nestled a ways from the road. A ten-foot tall cobbled wall surrounds its perimeter, thorny brambles burrowing into its stony face over decades of neglect. Two stout wooden doors lay ajar, perhaps shorter than they ought to be for a town gate.

A commotion is underway.

From atop the wall, three stout halflings run about in the darkness, shouting at one another. They carry torches and crossbows, and are clearly distressed. Intermittently they fire down upon the road, where an overturned wagon lays, wheels spinning.

Atop the wagon, two halflings scream and shout, jumping up and down. They are covered in mud, clutching large bags overflowing with grain and wool.

For beneath them, hissing and screeching, are eight Kobolds. Tiny, despicable reptilian beasts. They are dashing about madly, chittering and scratching at the wagon. Half of them stand guard, threatening the terrified halflings atop the wagon with daggers nearly as long as their arms. The others are pillaging the wagon, grabbing sacks of corn and wheat in abundance.

One is busying itself with a sheep, dragging the bleating animal by a dirty rope knotted around its neck. The Kobold slips and slides in the mud, cursing in its draconic tongue.

The rain picks up, nearly deafening. The halflings atop the wall fire more bolts upon the crowd, but their shots go well awry. The stranded wagon victims scream even louder, their cries echoing into the night.

Lightning flashes again, illuminating the scene.

===================

Ok fellows, welcome! We start in Media Res, with a pillaging underway. You can assume yourself to be between 30 and 100 feet away from the wagon, on the road for some reason. You may be alone, or with company. I will leave it for you to decide how you happen upon this unfortunate scene.

The wagon sits 15 feet away from the gates of the town, sunk into the mud and on its side. The treeline is at least 100 feet away, presumably where the Kobolds are looking to escape toward.

If you intend on making an attack of some sort, please post your actions in this thread and then address the results in THIS THREAD, IN THE LAIR.

(IE - If you damage or kill a kobold, edit the post in the lair to reflect which one was killed...etc.)

Please note, we do not roll for initiative in roots of legend. Players are always assumed to have initiative, unless an ambush happens that beats your passive perception.

See the Lair: 'Ako' is dragging away the sheep, and does not have his hands free. You may take Advantage if you are attacking him.

Cheers,
-Ao

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl's head jerked up as he heard a scream outside. The splintering of wood and the crack of thunder reverberated off of the warm walls, his shadow dancing drunkenly from a single candle beside him on the desk. His spellbook, ink, quill, and other pieces of spare parchment were scattered about it. It was too short for his tall frame, so he sat on a small pile of pillows and cushions and sheets on the floor instead.

The room had no windows, but he heard another cry. And then shouts for help! He grabbed his focus- a bracer made of wood, leather, and metal, filigreed with intricate symbols- and slipped it over his wrist. He wasn't wearing much more than his traveling clothes, but he strode into the hall of the small building in which he took refuge. The short folk, hin or halfling to some, were kind enough to let him stay there in exchange for his magical expertise.

The chittering, despicable sound of kobolds pierced his ears. He'd encountered the creatures before, and always managed to run. Now? He didn't think so. He heard the cries of battle, pleas for help, the twang of bows being fired. He snapped back into his room, grabbed his crossbow propped against a chair, and stormed out into the courtyard.

The gate was thick and broad, but shorter than his height. He could easily see the carnage on the road, well lit by the raging storm. He didn't have time to hesitate, two of the halflings were about to be torn to pieces by those damnable creatures. He pushed his chest against the gate, reached his bracered arm over the top of it, and marshaled his innate power.

His vision began to blur- the rain running down his heavy brow was no help- but the bracer began to vibrate and hum violently against his wrist. The tingling energy pained him, his fingers went numb as if cut off from circulation. Three dense pockets of pure energy, imperceptible in the torrential downpour and chaos, ripped toward the three kobolds closest to the two halflings atop the wagon.

-----

Dice roll below. Targeted three separate kobolds with Magic Missile. Each missile auto-hits with 1d4+1 force damage. It was one of my prepared first level spells for the day. Each missile has 120 ft range.

So that's a total of 5, 5, and 4 damage.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Shorjahl' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D4' : 3, 4, 4

[Custer Thickett]

He'd been there and back half a hundred times, and knew the way well.  These days, however, Custer stayed out of sight of the road as much as possible.  The habit had gotten him lost several times, but never a time so bad as this.  Right now he'd give nearly anything to be on the road.    Traveling this way, he had learned to look for the road from any vantage high ground with good cover would offer, but  it hardly helped today.  No, tonight.  The clouds had been far too thick for sunlight to get through for so long he had hardly any idea what hour it was, but it had to be night by now.   His torches were too wet to be of any use.  'If I had any sense, I'd just stick to good cover and wait it out."  He'd scream again, but he knew that if the rain were so heavy that he could hardly hear it, nobody else would.  

Then he heard a scream.  'Was that you?' He wondered.  'Or was that me an hour ago?'  Then he heard it again, and another, this time definitely a woman.  "It was you!"  He cried, slapping branches from his face as he ran toward the sound.

He burst from the treeline to see what might be the road and torches beyond, but he could hardly tell from the weather and light.  

Lightning flashes, and for a brief moment he could see clear as day.  'The village,' he sighed.  'It wasn't here, it couldn't have been you, and those were Kobolds.  It wasn't Kobolds.  Oh! how much I wish it were.'  

Not knowing who the upturned wagon belongs to, Custer lowers himself closer to the ground and pulls his cloak tight around his body, as he thinks,  'Agata, why did I scream?  Do you think they heard me?'

Backing into the trees, Custer lowers his pack to the ground, and strings his bow.  Custer shifts the pack next to a tree to make for good cover.  He then waits, watching, listening, and trying not to move.

---
Stealth 10

[Custer Thickett]

Blew the first roll. Trying again. 1d20 + 7 not 7 d20.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 3

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald smelt the fray before he heard it.
The unfriendly familiar tinge of crackling magical energy brought a sudden clarity to his well dulled senses. His head snapped upward. How many days had it been? Weeks? He knew hed'd been drinking but.... Where? The voyage south to Amn was... Hazy... And the fistfuls of coins lifted from the vessels sweet-but-simple crew men had been simply too... Available. But no. He was.... East... Well inland.... His cloak no longer crackled with salts... He saw the dew on the tavern window pane... The patrons boots soiled with charcoal mud... Lake Esmel.
Osvald stood with a slurry shout--"aa-who goes there!?" Spilling his tankard and nearly tumbling over his own blasted cloak.
"...ah" The concerned non-reactions from his fellow drunkards hinted that the conflict ~might~ be raging else where.
'Aha, ever the steadfast ranger!' He thought, oddly gladly, and stumbled past the churlish tavern oafs through the creaking door.

Greeted there by the skies torrential onslaught, his thoughts were thrice:

"Damn, where's the fight?"
"Damn, whose fighting?"
"Damn, why do I care?"

Edit: Perception to locate the brawl beyond the walls: 15

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Osvald Hale' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 13

[AnnaMaul]

Anna didn't need a spell to know it was going to rain soon. And so close to the nearby village as well. A brief thought that she should learn the name of the place crosses her mind but, as usual she pushes the thought aside for the more immediate matters. The torrent begins just as the wall is in sight but doesn't encourage her to speed up her pace any. The all-to familiar sound of combat rings in her ears as she seeks an alternate path to her destination until a brief flash of light shows her a mob of kobolds. She hesitates as three of them are taken out by a magical force, and decides instead to at least keep the others from making an escape. Who knows? Someone might be willing to pay her for her help.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small wooden object. The force of life somehow still flowing through it, he aims it towards the remaining kobolds as a mass of vines and weeds reach up from the ground and grab them by the legs, attempting to hold them in place.

(Cast Entangle in the area the kobolds are most clumped together. 20 foot radius is now considered difficult terrain and requires a DC 11 Strength Check in order to move at all)

[Forgeless Kilik]

The storm is sacred to Marthammor Duin, a time of cleansing, of life. The lightning splintering the sky a good omen, guiding the steps of the faithful on even the darkest night. The storm is a time to rejoice.

"Aye, but the mud..." the dripping wet dwarf muttered to himself as he fought for each suctioned step, "the hymns never mention the mud."

Kilik trudged along, remembering other roads and other journeys; thinking of happier times than these always made the miles pass more quickly.  "That outpost ought to be around here somewh--"

He heard the screaming through the pounding rain.

Charging toward the sound of distress, he barely noticed as the squelching mud caught and pulled the boot clear off of his right foot, leaving it behind; his well-patched red woolen sock was already so wet that it made little difference.

Clearing the screen of scrubby trees, Kilik saw the overturned wagon just before the neglected wall, the filthy lizards harrying the halflings, and the strangers coming to their defense. A snippet of a children's verse from his long-ago youth popped into his head unbidden "A crumbling wall is a crumbling kingdom...".  The dwarf reached his right hand back over his shoulder to grip the familiar haft of his warhammer, hoisting it high above his head as he called out in dwarven in a resonant voice "Watcher, guide my hand!"  His left hand glowed with warm light as his god heard his prayer, and lightning lit up the sky in blessing.

Kilik saw the closest kobold wrestling a bedraggled sheep off toward the forest, and the creature's stupid, gluttonous greed filled him with righteous fury as he hurled a bolt of divine light, but the spell streaked high over the creature's head and sailed harmlessly away into the dark sky.

[Forgeless Kilik]

...and I get it now; the formatting had me thinking that the dice roller required its own post.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Forgeless Kilik' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 2, 5

--------------------------------

#2 'D6' : 5, 2, 2, 2

[Kellar]

This weather... yuck, its wet, dreary and I'm thoroughly soaked. It's not far to Gaoler's now, just need to find a place to stay, dry off and try to put some warmth back into my bones.

"Not much farther now," Kellar muttered, trudging along the muddy road, using his wooden shield as a makeshift umbrella.

Kellar made his way along the path when he heard a scream cry out over the rumbles of the thunder and pouring rain. That doesn't sound like thunder!

Kellar tosses his shield on his back and grabs a javelin and sprints toward the source of the scream...

Kellar arrived to see a kobold scurrying away from the ruckus with a sheep. It was illuminated with a bolt of light coming from someone smaller in stature. Maybe a gnome? or a Dwarf? I can't really tell from here...

In a dead sprint, Kellar readies his javelin and hurls toward the last spot he had seen the Kobold before the night went dark again!

Kellar kept running, unsure if he hit the kobold or not... as he approached his target, he could see his throw had struck true, and killed it.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 16

--------------------------------

#2 'D6' : 6

[Ao]

Thin wisps of smoke rise from beneath the swarming mass of vines, where the corpses of magically seared Kobolds smolder, tittering and chittering away their last breaths.

The entanglement of reeds grows more and more abundant in the darkness, overwhelming the frantically bleating sheep. The animal attempts to kick away through the mud, but a Kobold stuck to the earth with a javelin holds tightly to its reins with a death grip.

[Stealth Check Succeeded]
Custer lies hidden, watching the encounter from afar.

[Perception check results]
From within the humble hamlet, Orvald stumbles towards the gates. He can see the halflings upon the wall, staring down in disbelief as a garden grows up around an overturned wagon amidst the torrential downpour. A mage crouches from behind the gateway, luminescent.

The four remaining begin to panic, disoriented by the entangling magic. Their screeches rise to a crescendo with the crash of lightning, and their ill-gotten loot is immediately forgotten. The Kobolds drop their bounty and leap away from their hostages, the halflings clutching one another in terror as weeds and roots begin to circle around their feet atop the wagon.

[Kobold Entangle Results]
Two of the Kobolds flee through the vegetation, escaping the clutches of the wild weeds. The other two crash to the ground, tripping over one another.

Viciously a fallen Kobold lashes out, throwing its dagger skyward in terror. The blade disappears into the night sky, landing amidst the chaos somewhere.
[Attack vs. Halfling atop wagon. Miss]

From beneath the entanglement, the sheep continues to bleat.

==================

OK, so four kobolds are dead. Two are entangled in Anna's spell, while the other two are making a break for the clearing. Osvald and Shor are within the hamlet's gates. Kilik and Kellar are presumably within 20-30 feet of the scene. Anna maybe a little bit further away. And Cuss is hiding perhaps 50-70 feet away...

The two fleeing Kobolds took a double move, and so moved a total of 30 feet away from the wagon. (at half speed, because of the reeds). They're off in the direction of the treeline, just ouside of the radius of the reeds. 70 feet from the treeline, perhaps.

Group EXP Bonus: 20 XP each for posting

-Ao

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl is momentarily stunned in disbelief. Three of the kobolds lay dead, bodies steaming in the rain, their chests rent open from the force of his magic. He'd never killed before, least of all with his power. His eyes were locked on his bracer, a gentle ringing sound like that of a tuning fork piercing the raucous night. A crack of thunder and burst of lightning brought him back to the chaos of the battle- mesmerized by the entangling roots, another wizard perhaps?

He didn't have time to ponder, two of the murderous creatures were fleeing. He didn't want to give them an opportunity to alert more of their ilk, these kind hin might not be so fortunate next time. His eyes focused on the two that ripped and stumbled their way through the roots and weeds, nearly making it to the scrubby treeline.

Shorjahl's hand raises- energy reverberates through his bracer- his hand goes numb and vision goes blurry- two dense projectiles of force ripple out from his finger tips. They streak through the air as fast as any arrow, their path curving through the falling rain and tumultuous scene. Both kobolds gasp and shriek in pain and surprise as the bolts rip through their chests and neck, splattering their gore across the treeline.

A glitter of light flashes in the sky as a dagger is tossed at one of the two little folk atop the wagon. Before he even realizes it, a third projectile rushes toward an entangled kobold, the impact of the blast crushes its face and splatters its tiny reptilian brain on the mud and weeds.

Shorjahl's chest is heaving, his hand tingling as blood flows back to his fingertips, his ears filled only with the high pitched squeal of the magical energy coursing through his veins.

-----

Single action, Magic Missile (my second slot for the day), rolled 3d4, dealing 5, 5, 5 damage (max on all three). Even though I split it up like two actions in the narrative, it was only the one cast of MM. I'll hold my move action.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Shorjahl' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D4' : 4, 4, 4

[Kellar]

Kellar spots the two kobolds making their escape from the bloom of vegetation that erupted around the wagon.

What in the world is that?!? The ground came alive and entangled those kobolds! Kellar sees three more bolts of energy shoot out, two toward the fleeing kobolds, and at one near the wagon.

Another magic user? That makes three!

With his eyes readjusting to the darkness, Kellar continues his sprint toward the kobold he killed with his javelin. He arrives, removes and prepares to toss his javelin at the remaining kobold stuck in the vegetation.

Seeing that he is not alone in his assault of the kobolds, he shouts to no one in particular, "I've got this one!"

Kellar hurls his javelin as hard as he can to kill the last kobold...

The streaks of light still affecting his vision, cause Kellar to miss his mark with the javelin. It flies above the kobold and sticks into the side of wagon.

Sigh. Maybe I don't have this one...

[Kellar]

Dice roller!

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 6

--------------------------------

#2 'D6' : 4

[Custer Thickett]

Observing the flashes of magic and the growing vines, Custer thinks That's too much firepower for the village constables.  Are you seeing this?  A faint, feminine voice replies, 'Help them.'   I don't know whose wagon that is.  It could be a trap.  The voice replies, 'I didn't fall in love with a paranoid coward.  Custer sighs as he readies his bow.  You'll be the death of me, I'm sure.  She laughs, and says 'We'll be even.'

Custer then sees two of the Kobolds hopping out of the entanglement, and heading his way.  He makes a quick adjustment for the wind, then draws and looses an arrow. He immediately drops behind cover, not bothering to see if his arrow hit true, and hoping they can't make out his pack..  He then nocks another arrow, and listens for their approach.  

-----

[OOC Was drafting this at work and didn't notice the earlier post killing those lizards before I hit send.  I don't want to retcon it, though.]

-----

As the two fleeing Kobolds collapse, an arrow streaks past them and hits the wagon, THUD!

[Custer Thickett]

Both rolls +3.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 12

--------------------------------

#2 'D6' : 4

[AnnaMaul]

Anna holds her spell as she moves towards the scene in front of her. She begins deciding on the next course of action to take as she sees flashes of light from something other than lightning and watches as they strike the kobolds. Realizing that she isn't the only one fighting against them she keeps her pace casual- just because they're being attacked by these things doesn't mean they're safe.

She watches as two of the kobolds manage to scurry away. She curses under her breath, having hoped she could have kept them better contained. Thankfully others managed to take care of the buggers before they could become a hassle. With only one left she drops her spell while readying another. The plants begin to drop as she steps towards the remaining kobold. Before it can get away, Anna smirks and simply states a single word-

"Boom."

A loud clap of thunder sounds, although anyone not watching the scene would think it came from the storm. A wave of force washes out from her and knocks the kobold away.

.....
Thunderwave

Its 2d8 damage and the Kobold is knocked 10 feet away. It gets a Constitution save for half and no knockback though, DC 11

[DiceMaster]

The member 'AnnaMaul' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D8' : 6, 2

[Ao]

[Kobold CON Save = Success]
no knockback, but it still dies.

[Custer Thickett]

Custer gathers his courage from his makeshift cover, then rises and spins, ready to draw and loose on another target.  He scans the small battlefield for any moving Kobolds, and finds none.  Confident the battle is over, Cuss returns his arrow to his quiver, unstrings and secures his bow in his pack, then lifts the pack over his shoulders and begins to make his way across the clearing to the gate.  

Cuss pulls his cloak's hood a little tighter as he approaches two smoldering Kobold bodies.  Cuss draws his rapier and lightly pokes at the faces of the fallen creatures, making sure they are dead.  He then looks about, trying to spot his arrow.  Seeing it well embedded in the side of the wagon, Cuss mutters to himself as he approaches the wagon.  He walks slowly, looking over the wagon and the Halflings still atop it to see if he can recognize them or any guild symbols.  

Once he is confident in his observation, Cuss takes notice of the blue skinned man.  Cuss stops short of the wagon, and turns to face the creature.  Cuss stares at it, and tilts his head to the side like a curious canine, thinking What in Waukeen's name is that?

-----

Perception roll to recognize Halflings or symbols of association on their wagon and muddy clothes.

13+1=14 Perception

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 13

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl sees the woman march out into the clearing, the entangling roots suddenly growing limp. As she mutters something under her breath, the kobold's body is crushed with invisible force. He blinks, clearing the energetic haze from his vision and the rain from his eyelids, his hand flexing to restore blood flow.

The woman seems confident, powerful, almost wild. Something made those roots entangle the beasts, perhaps it was her? (Arcana check 18).

Without calling out, Shorjahl carefully examines the scene, trying to determine if any other kobolds or threats are near. The rain and lightning, and his subsequent magical exhaustion, make it difficult for him to focus, but he analyzes each angle of the battlefield carefully (Investigation check.)

"Is it clear? Are you well?" he calls out to the hin atop the wall, but he can hardly hear his own voice over the high-pitched ringing in his ears, only now slowly abating.

-------

Roll 1: Arcana 13 + 5 = 18
Roll 2: Investigation 15 + 5 = 20

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Shorjahl' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 13

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 15

[Forgeless Kilik]

Kilik stomps back to the muddy pothole that stole his boot, pouring water from it as he approaches the overturned wagon and the strangers now gathering around it. Doubts nag at him, as they do more and more often nowadays.

The bolt went wide...it was the rain, and my haste. Marthammor Duin remains strong, He would not abandon me...but the bolt...it went wide...

Time enough for that when he can warm his feet around a fire; there are more pressing matters at hand. Pulling back his hood and shaking the rain from his fire-red hair, he calls out:

"What in Moradin's arse was that all about? Did the bastards get a piece of any of yer? Are there wounded?"

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald trudges in the direction of the main gate, gaining speed with each sloppy stride.

Below the heavy wash of rain he hears the thrum of bows, the resonant crackle of arcane energy, and shouting in many hoarse tongues and accents. Mostly, he hears the fearful calls of a trapped sheep, and the throaty gurgles of inhuman creatures gasping their last.

Squinting one eye shut against the rain and, more honestly, to bring his doubled vision back into focus: he spies a robed figure at the gate, calling out to someone beyond...

Gaining speed as he moves, Osvald warily arcs his path behind a small thatched roof hut toward an unmanned portion of the outer wall, and with a burst of speed attempts to launch himself and scrabble up the rough hewn fortification.
...Remembering embarrassingly too late, that he is in fact quite drunk. And the wall will be wet. And... Well, like most every thing his damned good natured heart bids him to do, that this is a foolhardy idea.

Grimacing against almost certain pain, Osvald makes his mighty leap.

Athletics check 12+2 = 14

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Osvald Hale' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 12

[Ao]

The halflings atop the wall call back to Shorjahl, but their voices are drowned out by the rain.

On top of the wagon, the two wayward halflings collapse in a heap. The female is crying violently into the arms of the male, who is an older one in overalls, with a stoop in his back.

A drunken, loud cuss echoes out into the night as Osvald slips from the wall unceremoniously, landing at the feet of the wizard Shorjahl.
[Athletics check failed]

A mob of hooded lanterns appears from within the winding avenues of the hamlet, where the hovels of curious citizens have begun alighting in response to the commotion. From a distance, the silhouettes of small faces appear in windows, gazing out into the night.

The hooded lanterns draw nearer, and you can see a mob of halflings armed with spears and pitchforks approaching the gate. The small warriors atop the gate shout down to them, their voices still muffled by the rains.

All the while, the sheep is bleating.

The halfling at the head of the mob, taller than most, steps lithely over Osvald's crumpled, muddy form. His armed entourage, however, is less graceful, and the ranger feels the kicks of a dozen small boots thud across his torso.

More cursing from the mob, in the confusion and the rain.

"What is the meaning of this!" shouts the tall halfling, extending his lantern toward the overturned wagon.

"Challah? Is that you?"

He seems to be talking to the young female, who looks up guiltily from atop the wagon.

"Yes uncle..." she says quietly. "Oh uncle! I am so sorry we are late! But Arabel," (and here, she points to the bleating sheep) "she ran off from the pasture as we were harvesting. And...and Owen and I hurried, but these Kobolds..."

The rain begins to fall ever harder, and the tall halfling cuts her off promptly.

"Not now Challah! Grab what sacks you can and come to the manor. Owen, grab that damnable sheep and leave the wagon out here until morning. Get these gates shut immediately!"

The armed entourage begins to mobilize, and now the tall halfling begins to notice the crowd of adventurers gathered outside his gate.

"Waukeen be praised, you happened upon this sleepy hamlet this eve. Come, whoever you are! I am Cherous Elester, Lord Mayor of Gaoler's Bend. Whether you've come by accident or not, you're welcome in my manor this evening. This road is no place for wanderers on a night without a moon, and you'll likely drown in the mud for another step to the north or south."

He gestures urgently, turning his back as the hamlet's militia stands by the doors.

[Custer, Perception check results]
Barely visible, standing on the road, Custer instantly recognizes the family crest painted upon the wagon. And the tall halfling.

Cherous Elester. A benevolent halfling, who once owned hundreds of acres of prime farmlands outside of Esmelteran. A halfling that had been on the sharp end of Lincoln Thickett's dishonest dealings, and had lost everything in turn.

Custer had never met the man. But his father had ruined his life.

=====================

Cherous will lead you through the hamlet, curious halflings peering out at you as you approach his manor. A four-storey building on the northern end of the walled hamlet.

He ushers you into his greatroom to escape the rain, where a dozen other men, halflings, and one half-elven minstrel sit around a feasting table, speaking in lively tones.

You may follow, or do otherwise.

Exp bonus: 20 EXP each, +30 EXP each for defeating the Kobolds.

[Shorjahl]

As soon as Shorjahl notices the stomped, sodden, muddy drunkard at his feet, he reaches out his unbracered hand to lift him up. As he was coming from inside the town, he didn't think of him as any threat.

His hooded eyes trail from the conversation to the other travelers and adventurers arrayed before him. They were peculiar, but he'd seen stranger. He pitied the young girl and their waste of crop.

"I'd be happy to help purify and dry some of these wares, especially the wool. It'll take me a moment, if I have your leave, sir," Shorjahl looks and speaks at the halfling in charge, but his blue gaze peers over at the wagon-stranded hin all the while.

(Did my Arcana and Investigation yield anything?)

(If they give me permission: Shorjahl stays behind to help the halflings clear the mess, using prestidigitation, to clean and remove the moisture from everything that he can, wringing the wool dry and removing the remaining dirt. Afterwards, he would follow.)

Shorjahl follows the group of administrators and warriors through the small town, absentmindedly rubbing and massaging his numb hand.

[Ao]

[Shorjahl Perception Results]
Shorjahl sees nothing towards the treeline or out into the darkness of the night. Indeed, the inky blackness could harbor other assailants. But none are revealed...

[Shorjahl Arcana Check]
After seeing the powerful blast of lightning exploding off the fingertips of the wild-looking half-orc, it became clear to him that she was responsible for the magics.

[AnnaMaul]

Anna follows the man through the village. Peering eyes from windows and doors cause her to smile a little bit. Unfortunately for anyone looking, that smile may look more than a little scary if they didn't know the cause. As much a blessing it was in the wild to keep people away, this visage is probably going to be a curse when interacting with anyone new. She'd have to learn to keep control over her expressions in order to prevent anyone from getting any mixed signals.

As she steps into the large building, she notes to herself how many people it must house to justify being so large. With any luck some of them would be grateful enough to offer her a bit of food, or even work. Anna removes her cloak and wrings it dry and begins to look around the room for a comfortable place to sit. She curses herself for not noticing the large table full of food and people at it right away. She drops the soggy cloth and sits at the table, digging in to the first piece of meat within arms reach.

"Thish ish pretty good."

She continues to eat, oblivious to any looks she may be getting from anyone around her.

[Kellar]

Halflings. Well I could certainly use the warmth, and a chance to get dry at any rate.

Kellar follows the other adventurers toward the manor. He enters the manor, second to last, observing the group of adventurers he is walking in with (Perception Check). At the door, Kellar props his lance and javelin against the wall, and removes his scale armor and pack.

He notices a Half-Orc sitting at the table, digging into the food.

I haven't eaten in a while, probably a good idea.

Kellar finds a place across from the Half-Orc, and grabs some food and begins to eat.

Mid chew, Kellar says, "Fancy work, with the plants. My name is Kellar, and your is?

Kellar reaches across the table to offer a handshake (Diplomacy Check).

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 8

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 4

[Custer Thickett]

Custer breaks his stare at the blue man as he hears the commotion of the mob approaching the gates, though he can't see them from his height.  Custer continues his approach to the wagon, making sure to stay well away from Kellar.  Custer grabs his arrow embedded in the wagon, and braces his right foot against the wagon for leverage to yank the arrow out of the wood.  He stumbles back a step as it pulls free, then places it back in his quiver.  

Custer then turns his attention to the corpses of the Kobolds near by, checking them for any coin or useful tools.  Finding silver and lockpicks, Custer smiles and turns his attention back to the gate.  Seeing the tops of spears and pitchforks, Custer pretends to continue searching the kobolds as he gets a handful of bloody mud and quickly rubs it in spots on his face.  (disguise check).  He then looks around at the travelers outside with him.  They seem to have little interest in him at the moment, and this eases his nerves as he listens to the dialogue between Challah and Cherous.

It wasn't a trap.

Custer's demeanor immediately changes upon the conclusion of the invitation into the house of Elester.  Custer reaches to the symbol of Waukeen around his neck and rubs it, while thinking Be sure and tell the Golden Lady that I am grateful for this opportunity.  Agata's voice replies, 'You live in a fantasy.  I can't do that.  Tell her yourself, love.'  

Custer lowers a knee onto the corpse of a kobold, to keep from getting it muddy, bows his head, and closes his eyes.  Liberty's Maiden, hear my prayer of gratitude.  I will not squander this opportunity.  Thank you for not giving up on me on my quest.

Custer rises, and turns to Owen and Challah.  "Do you need help getting down from there?  I can help you gather what can be salvaged.  If you have a empty or mostly empty sack, we should fill it with whatever these vile creatures left behind that can be of any value to you and your house."

Custer turns to the mob, "Hey, we could use some help cleaning up out here!"  Custer then busies himself helping Challah, Owen, and the human sorcerer gather their supplies and carry it to the mayor's manor.  While making their way up the streets, Custer turns to the human wizard, "Hey, you.  Those kobolds you took down outside had some tools on them.  It is your claim, as it is known, but I'd be willing to pay you silver coin for them, if you have no need of tools."  Custer then notices the human rubbing his hand, and tries to look concerned,  "Are you injured?"

----------------

Disguise Check +2, hiding distinctive facial features with dark, bloody mud. 2+2=4.  

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 2

[AnnaMaul]

It takes Anna a moment to realize that Kellar is speaking to her.  She sees his hand extended towards her and grabs it, looking for food.  Seeing none she glares at him before continuing on with her eating.

It was nothing. Jusht something to keep thosh- She takes a drink from the cup nearby. -little bashtards from getting away.  She stops eating for a moment to breathe, wiping some food away from her mouth.  Leaning back in her chair she takes a deep breath while taking a moment to herself to think.

It's Anna, by the way. So, how many did you manage to kill? I only got the one at the end, sadly.

[Kellar]

Anna... got it, responded Kellar with a puzzled look on his face.

Strange, she looked at hand instead of shaking it. Food maybe?

> ahem < Yes, about the kobolds, I killed one as well, it was trying to carry away a sheep. The other I targeted in the fescue I missed. But only by a foot or so, and I didn't damage the Wagon all that much. Thankfully.

Kellar reached for more bread, with a thick tab of what smelled to be honeybutter.

These people seem very hospitable,  what do you make of the others that aided in the defense of that wagon? Kellar asked intently.

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl flexes his fist and then relaxes it, letting it hang freely at his side. He feigns a reassuring, closed-mouthed smile, "Oh, no, thanks for the concern." Shorjahl is quite obviously tense about the scenario, but doesn't seem to be pained by it. After a moment of trudging through the muddy streets, he looks back to the halfling, "How much would you pay for those tools?"

[Custer Thickett]

Custer holds out his hands for Shorjahl to observe a rolled cloth pouch of rough locksmith's tools in one hand, and 5 silver coins in the other. "Pick, right or left?"

[Forgeless Kilik]

Kilik has never gotten over the feeling of unease that comes from entering another man's house...even a halfling's. Roofs come with rules. Still, the night is wet, and the little man spoke of a hearth and supper...

He followed the strange procession through the dark and muddy streets, eyes darting, alert for danger even after they shook their cloaks at the manor. The food smelled delicious...he surveyed the room as he tucked into a bit of roast fowl, the first hot meal he'd had in days, though he waved off offers of ale and wine in favor of a flagon of cold, clear water.

Between bites, he wiped the back of his thick hand across his mouth and addressed the Mayor in a voice intended to carry: Master Elester, tell us if yer will, have the nasty little lizards come a-knockin on yer gates before? They seemed uncommon bold...

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl chuckles quietly, still a bit frazzled from the fighting. His brows knit together in faux-concentration. (Investigation roll, I want to see if I can notice which one is which based upon the way Custer's holding his hand, the shadow, etc. If I need to roll a Perception, that works too.)

Whichever Shorjahl thinks is the one with silver in it, he nods to/indicates with his bearded chin.

------

Roll: 6 + 5 (Investigation) = 11

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Shorjahl' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 6

[AnnaMaul]

Anna takes another large gulp from the cup in front of her. A brief thought crosses her mind that she wasn't the one that had poured the cup, and wasn't really sure if it had been brought to her or if she simply took it since it was in her proximity. The thought passes and she sets the cup down and finishes off the meat in front of her. Something about the flavor was different than anything she had tasted before, and she thought about what she had been told of people adding things to their food for taste as opposed to just cooking and eating for sustenance. She would ask someone about this later.

Well. Not all of the magics out there were mine, so at least one of them is a mage. I didn't feel any evil from any of the spells though so I'm not too worried. Other than that I don't know any of them, they just happened to be around the same area as myself. With any luck they'll make it inside and I can get a chance to size them up properly.

[Custer Thickett]

Custer smiles at Shorjahl's wrinkled brow, and drops the silver coins into his waiting hand.  "Good choice, human."  

Custer tucks the cloth pouch of tools into his belt for now, until he can stop to take off his muddy pack and place them inside it.  

Custer tries to make small talk as they finish their stride to the manor, "So, uhhh, do you live here?"

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