After a very unusual turn of events, the party found themselves with another... and his dog, all after the same man: Simon. The thief who stole the same object from them all. Surely this could not be chalked up to coincidence. After an exchange of words, they came to the collective agreement to stay the night in simons room. It was, after all, paid for and it would be a shame to let it go to waste, shutting the door behind them, the group then squabbled over who got the single bed... and with the brandishing of a dagger, it seemed fletch was winning.


The morning light crept along the wall, signaling the morning. As it began to illuminate the room, it was quite the sight to behold. The samuari, ever disciplined decided it would be less of a squabble to fight over something as trivial as a bed and slept, katana across his folded legs on the floor at the foot of the bed. What Im sure began as a definitive "you sleep here and dont cross the invisible line", must have been tossed out the window sometime during the night, as the foot of a goblin wedged itself almost puzzle like in the armpit of the archer who both snored with a violet ferocity. The cleric, though not above fighting for the rights to sleep in a bed, did not see the need to bring weapons into it, and simply slept along the floor, in front of mitsu with the aid of pillows he had snatched during the night, unbeknownst do the sleeping duo of goblin and human. The Newcomer slept peacefully alongside his companion, as if he was used to it and never put up a single word of confliction when the topic of bed came up, he stayed out of it and laughed at the squabble.

As the light continued to creep down the bedframe and wall, it passed the foreheads of the man with the dog and the mangled goblin, twisted in the sweet embrace of sleep. The moment it crossed their eyes however, both man and green-skin were immediately awakened. And began preparing for their tracking of this "Simon..." They gave the remaning sleeping men the pleasantry of a few more minutes of sleep. The awakening was unplesant, being the early hour it was, but the druid and scout got their 'men' into shape quickly.

After a few stretches, moans and violent complaints, they found themselves on the streets once again. Prepared for whatever the day may throw at them, and hopefully to catch the thief and remove his hands from his body as Fletch so blatantly stated.

Options:

This message was last edited by the player at 03:21, Fri 29 Jan 2016.

In reply to DM Shaun (msg # 36):

Fletch pulled himself out of bed shaking away the precious night with a twotch of his shoulders. He enjoyed a good mattress from time to time. Fletch soon realized hed been sharing his space with a goblin, grimacing at the fact that it was not the worst he'd woke up with. He pushed the goblin away and touched his toes to the ground before shipping his raggedy boots on. The long bow lay unstrung beside him. In a carful otion ye merc prepares his stolen weapon for a new day. The sun was young and red as he watched it, stumpy fingers looping black chord on red wood. With his weapons set  he knocked his heel down on the wood a few times to wake the others. Some morning words were exchanged before the archer spoke his piece. "Allrighty. we got one hell of a say ahead of us. I dont know about the lot o you, but i think our chamces of finding that little thief are slim and none. Least by traditional means. Im also running dead low on coin. I say we strike out, see what we can learn and find some work. I guarantee someone in this town needs some muscle for something.  but as for you dogman, i want to know more bout ya before i feel right havin you and that beast of yers along."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:01, Mon 01 Feb 2016.

I open my eyes, coming to the slow realization that I am awake again, as the room begins to be lit by the sun.  Having slept well when finally falling asleep, I try to sleep a little longer before everyone wakes up.  I fall asleep again, yet to now wake to the archer's stirring. I stretch and sit up, from the pillows I had been curled up against.  I remove the cloak of simon from where it had been, atop my person like a blanket and instead put it on, but not before examining the pockets again.  I look inside them for any sort of imprint.  Like where water would have made dye run or an imprint from an item apparent.  I realize once again how pressing these events may be... we need to get started.

"I believe ve need to track down Simon and ve should begin immediately.  Ve could stop in town briefly incase anyone has need to purchase items for travel in the forest or outskirts, outside this city.  That is assuming, if anyone has any coin left.  I do not think we have time to vork for more coin now, nor do I think we should stay any longer in the city than we have to.  Simon's words still resonate in my mind, compounding now further my suspicions.  I do not trust the reason they brought us to this city for, not after I have met them.

I have studied this region alittle on the journey here and what I could study before I left for this journey.  I have learned some disturbing things:..."

I take the next while to explain more about the situation that I have learned from my studies.



I do agree with Fletch though, "I vould like to know you better before traveling vith you, Mr. ...?
I am Aviram, pleased to make your acquaintance.
Though we seem to have a common goal, and your 'companion,' canus lupus? I presume? would be an asset to our quest, I vould like to know more about you.  Do you have any tracking skills yourself?"

Mitsu took a moment to consider all of there options. He wanted to find Simon, no he needed to. Simon has been allowed a whole night away from answering from his theft. "Aviram is right. We must find Simon and the longer we delay the longer he has to escape our grasp. I think we have learned as much we can just around here." Mitsu takes a moment for the others before looking to Aviram and Gorrum. "Let's get to tracking him. Gorrum, you think you can pick anything up on him?"

Oloven gave his new acquaintances time to wake before setting off after Simon, feeling unusually generous. For his troubles, he found they wanted nothing less but to glean what they could from him. "Aye, look. I'll reintroduce me'self. Oloven Fletcher. Treasure hunter by trade. I tend to sleep in less 'ospitable places than this nightly, so I know more than a lil' about tracking somefin down." He told them casually as he made certain the barding on his furry companion was set and comfortable. "An' to be 'onest, I really don' need to wait on the lot o' ya. Thought I'd be a good sport an' let you tag along for a bit, though. Know ya might wan' ta get your things back too. Wha'ever you lot decide to do, I'm going after 'im." He slung his pack over his shoulder as he said this, and moved to the door. Without any noticeable signal, the dog padded after his master.

Oloven turned toward the door to leave followed closely by his canine companion. He had taken about two steps, however, when his canine companion suddenly stopped, perked its ears, and began growling. The druid paused, and just as he glanced back to register exactly what his friend was doing, something highly unexpected happened. The door, which had already been broken open last night, and later refastened for when they slept, was broken open a second time. Struck by a thunderous kick, the door loudly exploded from its repose, striking the wall beside it with a clamour, and falling off one of its hinges in the process.

The adventurers already inside, needless to say, were on their feet faster than someone could blink and swelled with a healthy blend of alarm and adrenaline. They also thought it funny, for now they knew exactly how it felt to be on the other side of someone breaking into your room. Through the door, with no courtesies whatsoever, burst a woman, a half-orc. She had clearly not been invited. She was wielding a glaive and aiming it straight at them; and for those who don't know, a glaive looks an awful lot like a staff with a thick shortsword mounted on top.

This was definitely an unorthodox way to start the day. Tusks, no more than an inch long, protruded from her lower jaw and naturally rested on the upper lip. Her eyes burned with an almost white color, tinged by the slightest shade of green. The only hair on her head was a low strip of offblack down the center like a mohawk; aside from that, her head was completely shaven. She looked like she was in a bad mood and they guessed as much.

Their opinion was confirmed when she uttered the following. "I'm gonna cut your damn head off!!" She stopped her threats short and blinked in surprise. She glanced from one side of the room to the other, taking in the fact that it was full of people she had never seen before. Her glaive lowered for a moment, then she put it right back up again. Tone unchanged, she demanded, "Where's Simon? Where is he!?"


This message was last edited by the player at 19:27, Fri 05 Feb 2016.

"VOAH!" I exclaim at the unexpected entrance.  I immediately turn, stand, and raise my hands on front of me in an unthreatening manner. [Private to DM Shaun:  (I take total defense)] "Simon is not here!  He stole from us and we plan to track him down!  We were about to leave to trail him!  We believe he fled from the city, but we were waiting herE to catch him in case he returned, and for light to trail him by.  We seek the same goal!  We will tell you all we know of him if you lower your weapon, you might even be able to go with us to trail him if you vant."

Oloven's hand shot out in front of the dog's snout as the woman stopped, his fingers splayed. On cue, the growling stopped and tensed muscles relaxed, no longer readied to pounce on the intruder. "Oy love, no need ta be pointing tha' at us. It seems we 'ave a bit of a gatherin' of us tha' are after the blighter." The druid glanced at the rest of the men and single goblin assembled, then back to the newcomer. "Might as well join us, eh?"

The Katana gripped tight in both hands, Mitsu faced the door as it came crashing down. Ready to face the intruder. As the angry orc lowered her weapon, Mitsu sheathed his weapon. She seemed to have also been wronged by this same man, quite the infamous fellow. He looked to the orc with his hand still on the hilt. He asked her more calmly than those around him, "It seems he has wronged you as well. We were about to begin to hunt him down."

Quay slightly lowered her glaive. The nonthreatening reply she received was somewhat unexpected, though not unwelcome, and her ferocity started to recede. She glanced between the motley of characters in the room, then said, "This is one popular thief, to have such a mob after him." She had at first expected that, perhaps, they were cohorts of his. But judging by their reaction, she now highly doubted it, for the sheer surprise factor of her appearance would have made it difficult to assume such a ruse so fast. She looked at them in a new light.

It was strange to see a variety of races like this in one place, a fact which seemed to fascinate her. "You don't seem like you're friends." She stated this not as a criticism, but more as an observation. In fact, she felt more at ease because of this, for she would have been more suspicious of a group of strangers who knew each other too well. Finally, and perhaps a little later than was due, she spun her glaive upside and planted the blade into the floorboards. "Clearly know who I'm talking about, so I suppose we are after the same guy. I'll join this hunting party. Let's get after him and make this quick."

The look of determination in her eyes was daunting, probably made so because of their almost burning white color. It was as though the furnace of a forge blazed there, condensed into those eyes, and magnified by the dark pale green skin around them. Now this was a woman who when she decided something would happen, it happened.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:58, Mon 08 Feb 2016.

Gorrum was barely done rubbing his eyes when he the door broke open.  Never one for having a fair fight or being in the way, he crouches almost under the bed.  Making himself small and holding his spear tightly, he carefully listens to the conversations of the big'ums.

When it was obvious that there was going to be no fighting to run from, Gorrum took a moment to look at the newcomer.  He had never seen such a strong GREEN female before, Gorrum didn't even knew they came in that size.  Gorrum would have to watch her very closely...to see if she also did green things.

With not much to add and by nature not liking attention (unless drunk) Gorrum just nods along with everyones plans.

Not many of the men could say they had a morning start out quite like this... Note the word Many. With the interesting introduction and strange addition of the Orc woman, the men stood for a moment as she spun on her boot and began to leave, leaving the men to attempt to wrap their minds around what happened. Gorrum was the first out, He found it fascinating that beings came in different greens and spent the most of their walk simply studying her- much to her discomfort. After a moment, the men walked out of the room, looking at one another making sure they were making the right decision, they were all after the same man after all... whats the harm, right?...


As the front door opened, the group found themselves with and interesting sight. A crowd had gathered and were in an uproar, though the adventurers only saw backs and heard not a single coherent sentence, the message was clear. The mob was unhappy to say the least. Not wanting to include themselves, they found it best to head to the west gate. They would let the dog get the scent outside for tracking simon. The crowd began to clear as they walked however, and curiosity got the best of them as they heard something shatter. The men (and woman) turned to notice a woman in the middle of a huge crowd. In an elegant dress, it was clear she was not from these parts. The crowd was tossing objects at the woman and it was only when she turned her head to dodge some form of fruit did they notice her face; and ears. The woman was an elf.
Her voice did nothing but add to the miasma of sounds as she pleaded in tears for them to stop. Suddenly out of the crowd, a knight, Large in stature and armored from head to toe walked to the woman, raising his shield and cloak to shield her from objects and harsh words.


Many a tomato and small vase were broken on the armored protector as they walked to the dock, boarded a ship, and left, heading out toward the west leaving a trail of rubbish tossed by the townsfolk on the waters surface. "The hell was that all about?" Fletch asked, speaking for the bulk of them. "Elves aren't looked kindly upon 'round here. Not sure why." The druid said, removing his hand from the head of his dog, as if to restrain him throughout the mobs actions. "Lets carry on." Quay said dryly, not giving much care to the unraveled events. She had here eyes set on something bigger. Well, smaller. And more likely to steal from you.


Outside the Western gate, the group marched on a well worn trail. After a hour or so of walking, following the dog as he tracked the scent of the strange man, they came to a bend in the trail, and suddenly, the dog began to walk in circles. The scent was being confused with something else. The druid studied the confused dog. The others took the moment to streach their backs, and after a few cracks of stiff joints took the time to take in the scenery. It was a bushy area, say for one tree, there were thick shrubs all around the trail. They took the moment to remember green, Because according to the words of the locals, the green and life shifts to red and dead stone. Gorrum continued to study the orc woman, who had just about had enough of his eyeing her and prodding various parts of her visible skin. Just as she was about to turn and shout at the small goblin, gorrum froze. Quay raised an eyebrow at this, after a moment everyone turned their attention to the scout who stood unmoving. Suddenly, his eyes darted from left to right, looking at the cleric, and then the orc, "MOVE GREEN LADY" He shouted as he darted in front of her, and leapt, grabbing her face and pulling her back falling on the ground a near ten feet. After the cloud of dust settled, they stood confused until they heard a voice, "Fuckin' Goblins and their creepy eyes!" In the moment gorrum froze, he saw movement in the brush as well as a weapon he was all to familiar with, a blow dart gun. When he turned to pull and Quay's face, he nearly took an unknown toxic dart in the leg as the small, near unseen dart missed its intented target of Quays neck.

The men quickly readied themselves, drawing weapons... Suddenly they heard a rather odd sound, a clap. "That was quite good my small green friend," a man said, stepping out of the brush and into the path ahead of them, another could be seen further back from him. "We only needed one to fill our quota, but give us the Orc, and goblin and you'll get a hefty reward, savvy?" The man stood, feeling rather certian his words would sway the minds of the men. Besides, who wouldnt give up a friend for money right? His thoughts were cut off as an arrow flew past his head, which he narrowly dodged, perhaps cutting some of his well kept black hair. (You dont lose an arrow, simply storytelling) Looking back, he saw a bow. Fletch had loosed an arrow at the would be kidnapper. "You want em?" Fletch asked. "Attempt to claim them." Mitsu finished, sword drawn, pointing at the man. Quay was plesantly supprised by the her defenders, though she bearly knew them, one nearly got shot by an unknown substance for her, and the others would not hand her over for money. Interesting people indeed. With rustles in the brush, men began to erupt some donning swords, another a bow. "Claim them we shall," the man said, Drawing a rapier with a cocky grin (2). "Perhaps you will see the red sands to the Batiginus yourselves."

Combat rounds, Enabled

This message was last edited by the player at 19:53, Mon 08 Feb 2016.

Finally a fight. Fletch's face pulled to a stern glare, his arms were a blur as he drew his longbow and leapt to the priest's side(s14). He drew his bow, targeting the prick in the brush(4) and let loose his fingers with a quick controlled breath.
15:52, Today: Fletch rolled 7 using 1d20+4 ((3))
he came in to fast, to reckless, and the arrow was lost.

The Katana shined as it was pulled from the sheath. It had been so well kept no one could have guessed how much blood has dripped off the tip of it. Mitsu quickly scanned the enemies in front of them, trying to determine who had a melee weapon in their hands. {Spot check} He then eyes enemy 5 and studies him before moving in for the attack. {Knowledge adventure check}

17:24, Today: Mitsu Hattori rolled 7 using 1d20+1.  Knowledge adventure on #5.
17:24, Today: Mitsu Hattori rolled 20 using 1d20.  Spot check. (Nat 20!!)

As he is scanning the field for anything useful he see's something behind the furthest enemy. Smoke? From what? He relays it to his companions, "Look, in the distance. There's smoke rising!" Not letting to much of his attention wander from the enemies he looks to them, "It looks like those ones have the blow darts {5 and 3} and the rest have melee weapons."

{Mitsu will be charging 5 once Aviram moves out of the way, rolling once that occurs}

With Aviram moving from Mitsu's line of attack, he grips his katana with both hands. Charging for enemy #5. (Charging (+2) + Power Attack (-1))



This message was last edited by the player at 18:46, Sat 13 Feb 2016.

Quay cast a burning glare. She would have uttered a word of thanks to the goblin, but she had already forgotten his existence. Her attention was concentrated like the head of spear, and directed with the same deadly intent. She hissed, baring her tusks in an aggressive display. "Claim me? I'll claim you!"

Vengeful, agile, she darted like a tigress across the grass, coming at them fearlessly. She thrust out her glaive into the bush at the closest ambusher.

20:48, Today: Quay rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  Attack, Glaive @ Man #4 (Power Attack: -1).
20:49, Today: Quay rolled 9 using 1d10+8.  Damage, Glaive @ Man #4 (Power Attack: +2).

After the fact, she knelt on one knee. Her eyes swept across all her enemies in a glance, pondering the most effective method to kill them all. For a moment she had even forgotten that she was here with allies, but Mitsu's voice acted as a reminder. He said something about smoke in the distance. A camp perhaps? Not important now. She pushed the mention aside.

Being in front of the others, they could easily note she was armed to the brim with spears. Aside from the glaive in her hand, a lengthy quiver crafted from some animal's hide was strapped to her back. Two additional spears of varying length protruded from it. She had more teeth than just her tusks.


This message was last updated by the player at 02:13, Sat 13 Feb 2016.

Oloven drew the quarterstaff from his back, and pointed it directly at the man next to Quay's victim. "Karn, there." The words had barely escaped his lips before the massive, black and white dog shot across the space between his master and prey. Oloven didn't watch this, however. He himself had turned and moved to the flank of his party, chanting to himself in arcane syllables. Karn lunged at the man in the trees as The druid extended his hand and vines, thick as a young man's arm, sprouted suddenly from the ground on the path and enveloped a great area. The swiftly growing plants grasped heedlessly at the ankles and legs of the men who were unfortunate enough to be caught in it, as if desperately trying to drag them into the earth.

Karn:Move action to O 11, standard attack. Trip attempt on successful hit.

Oloven: Free action to command Karn, Move action to P 18, readying quarterstaff. Standard action, cast Entangle centered on G 9.

Gorrum knew who had shot at the green lady.
He also knew he now wanted to stick him.

Hearing Mitsu about the other one with darts, He keeps a mindful eye on him (#5)
He holds his spear tight in his hand and runs towards the blow-darter eyeing him for a weak spot, then with a violent scream he attempts to shove the spear into him.

Gorrum: move to p12; Attack #3, #5 target for Dodge bonus.


13:32, Today: Gorrum rolled 17 using 1d20+3.  Attack.
13:33, Today: Gorrum rolled 7 using 1d6+1.  Spear Damage.
13:34, Today: Gorrum rolled 4 using 1d6.  Skirmish Bonus Damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:36, Sat 13 Feb 2016.

I answer the bandits with aggression, suspicious of their ill intent and trustworthiness. "I will make no bargains with your type, bandit scum!"
I turn and speak to our group, "It would be useless to make an agreement with them! Make them pay for their ambush!"

I pull a cross from my cloak which I hold while I whisper prayers to myself. I lower my head a moment.



I lift my face, and it is apparent that there is a tear at my eye, in a passion of righteous anger. After a moment of revelatory insight, I shout, "Approach me! In Jesus Name!" Pointing my finger at 5, with my cross in the other hand.

{Rolls:
Sense Motive:
18:41, Today: Aviram rolled 5 using 1d20+4.  Sense Motive, Bandits Claim; ShQ. ( nat 1 :( )

Knowledge Adventure:
17:42, Today: Aviram rolled 21 using 1d20+2.  Knowledge (Adventure), on 5; ShQ.
17:42, Today: Aviram rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Knowledge (Adventure), on 4; ShQ.
17:42, Today: Aviram rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Knowledge (Adventure), on 3; ShQ.
17:42, Today: Aviram rolled 5 using 1d20+2.  Knowledge (Adventure), on 2; ShQ.
17:41, Today: Aviram rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  Knowledge (Adventure), on 1; ShQ.

Result:
5: Though he donned a blowgun with a dart lined belt across his chest in different colored plumes, he was a large man. No doubt a fighter by nature.. It seems his job required him to take on a secondary position to capture passers by. His dagger though... you notice it has an odd greenish hue along she blade
4: A larger man stood between the two with blow guns... no doubt there for physical defense. His Great sword caught your eye. More than likely a fighter.
3: Blow gunner... Though harder to see, his gear seems to be similar to number 5. Probably backup for his partner if he missed.
2: He stepped forward and offered you a reward for Quay and Gorrum. Perhaps the ring leader? His rapier is cleanly polished and he appears to be clean cut.
1: An imposing figure... A large man stands in the back of the group, not seeming to care about the outcome. Perhaps he is simply watching to see his men in action. You get a glare of branded mail armor, and notice his shield on his back.. His long sword looks exquisite, with intricate designs. Though not more powerful than a regular sword, it seems custom made. Quite frightening. Definitely the man in charge.

Knowledge Nature:
18:39, Today: Aviram rolled 18 using 1d20+1.  Knowledge (Nature), on types of poison possibly used; ShQ.

Knowledge Local:
18:45, Today: Aviram rolled 9 using 1d20+1.  Knowledge (Local), on Bandits; ShQ.

Knowledge Geography:
18:39, Today: Aviram rolled 21 using 1d20+1.  Knowledge (Geography), on surrounding terrain; ShQ. ( NAT 20! )}

{Actions:
I 5ft step to S13.
I draw a Javelin.
I cast Command (approach) on 5. (DC 13)}
This message was last edited by the player at 22:57, Fri 19 Feb 2016.

The arrow loosed by fletch acted as the spark that lit the fire that was this battle. Though it had missed, his message was clear: “Dont fuck with us.” Seconds after the arrow flew, the Druid spoke to his canine friend, who darted toward the bush cluster, trying to take down one of the men...

***

Aviram was the first to move, stepping slowly parallel to the man with a blow gun, drawing a javelin, his eyes locked, suddenly the colors of his eyes flashed an icy blue in a deep thunderous voice, he commanded the fifth man, “Lower your Guard, and Come!” The man stood and his arms dropped to his sides. Face gone blank... for a moment, and he then began to shake his head violently covering his ears and screaming, “GET OUT OF MY HEAD YOU DAMNED WITCH!”

Command spell~ fail

Aviram: Checks~

***

While his animal companion ran to the attack, Oloven had a plan of his own, speaking under his breath as he drew his quarterstaff, the group could swear they saw his eyes change colors for a moment... Suddenly, out in the open field, vines and thick weeds erupted from the ground, ensnaring the man who spoke, as well as the man who stood in the back. Shooting out so quickly, the men had little to no time to react, though not for lack of trying. Cursing and harsh words are all that came from the man who spoke to the group, cockiness seeming to melt into fear. The larger man in the back, simply stood. Frown on his face, rage easily being able to be seen boiling within his chest. While the vines and weeds shot about, Karn (the dog) darted this way and that on a direct path to one of the men with the blow guns in the brush. Though the dog was fierce as it was large, its dodging and nipping at the heels of the man left the creature with naught but a mouthful of leaves, before he knew it, the dog leapt again, this time he had time to react, pushing at the dogs head, leading it away. This was his lucky day.


In retort as the dog spun about, the man loaded his blow gun with a dart with a light red plume of feathers, loaded it and fired quickly. Perhaps too quickly, the fear of almost having his legs taken off by a 150 lb dog caused him to become clumsy, firing off a dart feet away from the dogs- well feet.



While the man felt a wave of- well feeling cool for fending off a riding dog, his buzz was harshly cut off by a screech. He looked up to see the sheen of a metal point. Gorrum had followed the path of the dog and wheeled back into a powerful thrust. The mans eyes widened as he stumbled backwards and fell into the brush, with a powerful jab, Gorrum thrust. A strike that would make a skewer out of any living creature. Gorrums pleased as a pickle look melted as he looked down the shaft of the spear. Its silver tip hit a target alright, but not the one intended. The man had fallen, legs sprawled out with the spearhead in-between them, jabbed into the dirt, he looked up, coated in sweat and the small skirmisher and exhaled deeply

 -Gorrum miss man 3, concielment successful-


Mere feet away from the events of the dog and Goblin, a fellow creature of green skin darted toward a her target, a man with a sword so large, he needed two hands to wield, there was a catch she didnt notice until it was too late; he was ready. With a fierce flurry of jabs, the man with the large sword did his best to deflect the attacks from the orc woman, sparks flying about as he attempted to keep up, as she realized he had prepared for her to charge, she let out a growl and knelt down, hiding from the blowguns, looking about the area for her next target. As she looked about the area, an arrow hit the ground next to her, she looked down, eyes wide and then followed its trajectory back to its owner. Fletch, who stood with a grimace and an apologetic grin.

***

Quays attention was caught by the sheen of metal running past at a blinding speed, Mitsu had taken a full charge at the other man with the blowgun. The sound of metal, tearing leather, and splatter of blood on leaves. Cut from hip to shoulder, the fifth man stood for a moment before falling to his back with a satisfying crunch into the bushes, Mitsu, with is blade pointed up in the air after his uppercut slash slowly lowered his now crimson blade and with a harsh twist, nearly unnoticeable, the blade was clean, as if it had just been drawn. Blood peppered the small area around him.


“Remmy!” The man with the longsword shouted, clearly being friends with the man mitsu had slashed, quickly ran to the samurai, bringing down a heavy blade to the man. Glare of metal and  sparks danced along the leaves, mitsu had drawn his weapon to his shoulder, holding the blade off his armor, just bearly... Rage overtook the man, and the smirk he gave quay began to melt away as the swords began to shake violently against eachother. With a sudden shout the man leapt in the air, pressing mitsu's sword down, and thrusting upward, piercing the samurai's stomach. A deep exhale came from his lips and the blade was drawn from the weakened body of Mitsu, as he fell to his knees, and then onto his side, blood coming from the front and back of his armor... unmoving...



Quay looked down at the samurai, who in turn was unable to turn to return to the gaze. She began to reach toward him, Suddenly she heard a deep inhale, out of instinct, she bobbed her head off to the left, sending a pink plumed dart sailing into the distatance. A quick glance before her and she was met with the hollow of a blow gun. The man who mitsu had just slashed, lay in the brush, leaves and blood surrounding him. “Bitch...” He grumbled as as he rolled backwards into the brush, hidden from sight.



The man who spoke to them (2) began to laugh, “You lazy sacks of shit/Royalred>!” He said, voice full of a new found anger developing into rage. "<Royalred>What do you make those stupid darts for if you cant hit anything?! I want them all bagged and tagged! DO YOU HEAR ME?!" It was clear he was beginning to feel the heat of battle, not exactly turning in his favor


The (conscious) members, looked at one another, this was certainly not the unfolding they had expected... More importantly, Mitsu was laying in the middle of a battlefield completely unconscious. The men needed to rethink their strategy... Lest they lose a samuari... Or perhaps all get captured.


This message was last edited by the player at 00:00, Sat 20 Feb 2016.

Mitsu continues to lay on the ground, almost motionless while more blood pools around him... He barely moves his arm towards Aviram looking for assistance.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:14, Sun 13 Mar 2016.

In reply to Mitsu Hattori (msg # 55):

Fletch winced a little bit as that final cut came down on the samurai. He looked over once more to see the she-orc drop like a sack of flower, dart protruding from her form. He didn't like the looks of this. He glanced around, knowing he had to make space between him and the blow gun boys. He picked his target(number 4), the one closest to the samurai, and tried to pop a shot off before retreating to a safer distance.

14:16, Today: Fletch rolled 11 using 1d20+5 ((6)).
after letting the arrow go the archer retreated diagonally 30feet(off map, sorry shaun)

Quay glared over at the fallen samurai. She burned with disappointment. He was supposed to be the strong one of these fools but he got cut down in a single strike. She knew that samurai were not meant to be such easy prey. Perhaps this was the reason he was so far from Shan-tai, fleeing some shame of defeat? She switched over her glare to his slayer. Or perhaps this bandit was simply that strong? It never is safe to judge someone on a glance. He will make interesting prey.

Quay pivoted her rear foot, rooting it into the ground. She repositioned her glaive with a swift motion and thrust it forward. She was determined to find out just how interesting he was. She concluded the attack with a step backward.

21:03, Today: Quay rolled 15 using 1d20+5.  Attack, Glaive @ Man #4 (Power Attack: -1)
21:03, Today: Quay rolled 17 using 1d10+8.  Damage, Glaive @ Man 4 (Power Attack: +2)



She then looked at Gorrum and hissed, "Goblin!" Her manner of address had an air of command to it. "You hold your spear strangely. Where are you from!"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:29, Tue 23 Feb 2016.

Gorrum couldn't believe his eyes that his spear had missed the human. He usually killed food on his first stab.

"I'll skin you for dat." he hissed as the man.

Gorrums grins at Quays, and shouted "TREETOWN" while taking off in a run in a semi circle around her, ending up on her other side and taking a look in the bush before deciding to viciously stab the man who had hurt Mitsu.

Gorrum moves to S-11 around Quey
Gorrum Attacks #4
15:03, Today: Gorrum rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Hit.
15:07, Today: Gorrum rolled 6 using 1d6+1.  Spear Damage.
15:08, Today: Gorrum rolled 3 using 1d6.  Skirmish Bonus.

Artistic Writing:
I see my new friend fall at the hands of our wicked enemy...  even though this man was merely an acquaintance in our prior journey, as were many of my compatriots here; simply fellow victims of the same thief and fellow recipients of the strange invite, now they are more than that.  Now they are my battle brothers and sisters.  They risk life and limb for each other.  I realize it is premature to say this fully, to regard them as full battle brothers and sisters, but it is a step toward it.  I can taste what is spoken of in the homeland- This must be what is held so sacred back in my homeland about combat- This brotherhood.

I know now what I must do, I see Mitsu call for aid, his hand reaches for me.  I must rush headlong into the fray to help him.  He needs my help right away.  "Herr Gott, gib mir Kraft! {translated: Lord, give me strength!}"  My feet begin to move before I know what is happening fully. "Friends! bedecke mich... err, Cover me! Mitsu requires my aid!" Risking myself, I move to Mitsu's side depending upon my companions and my God to protect me. I slide on my knees next to Mitsu to pray.

I pray as I run to his side, "Herr Gott, protect me as I rush into the fray, I can see Your holy angels shielding me from all harm.  Thy angels you command about me lest I dash my foot against a stone, You are mine strong tower, my refuge, my courage, my hope!
     Lord, heal this mans vounds, not based upon his courage, or upon his deeds, though they may be great, but upon our most sure foundation, Your sacrifice completed for us already.  Your blood flowed from your veins and Your back was lacerated that ve might made whole.  Upon the sure vorks of your righteous son!  Be healed in Jesus Name Mitsu-san!" I place my hands upon Mitsu's shoulders as I pray.

Actions:
Move action: I hustle to Mitsu via T13-T12-T11-T10-T9-S9
Standard Action: I cast cure light wounds on Mitsu (Healed 4)
Free Action: I kneel (+2 AC vs Ranged, -2 AC vs Melee)

Rolls:
23:32, Today: Aviram rolled 9 using 1d20+3.  Heal Check, on Mitsu; ShQ.
23:36, Today: Aviram rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  Listen Check, on 5; ShQ.
23:36, Today: Aviram rolled 7 using 1d20+3.  Spot Check, on 5; ShQ.
00:00, Today: Aviram rolled 4 using 1d8+1.  Cure Light Wounds, on Mitsu; ShQ.

Suddenly feeling like he was pulled from death itself, Mitsu gathers his thoughts and attempts to gauge his surroundings. He looks and listens for enemy he was unable to cleave in two.




00:18, Today: Mitsu Hattori rolled 0 using 1d20-1.  Listen check.
00:17, Today: Mitsu Hattori rolled 1 using 1d20.  Spot check.

Only being able to see the Man standing directly in front of him, Mistu does everything he can to grab his katana in both hands. Should the man attempt to end him, he would not go out without swinging first.


This message was last edited by the player at 02:59, Mon 14 Mar 2016.