Hearing the cries of agony of the dying Troll caused Rhydd to shake his head in dismay. ~~So unnecessary,~~ he thought to himself. ~~This is all the fault of Skath.~~

The huntsman could see a path to the side of Hiln, if the surviving Troll decided to force its way past the Dwarf and close with the line of crossbowmen. Rhydd was not a coward, but he knew that he was fought better as an agile archer than as an armored-up front-line fighter. He also noted that he would have a slightly better angle if he moved a little to his right.

Accordingly, he moved over a step to his right, nocked another arrow, and shot it at the Troll that was still fighting. Pushing himself to fight a little more quickly than he normally did, Rhydd nocked and shot a second arrow. Both shafts struck their target, hitting the Troll squarely in the chest.

---

OOC:

Move: Rhydd will move to the SW square of Square H-3 (five feet).

Action: 15:42, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 16 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 9.  Ranged Attack v. Troll (AC 14). Hit!

15:42, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 11 using 1d8+3 with rolls of 8.  Damage (Longbow).

Action Surge: (See p. 72, PHB). 15:45, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 19 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 12.  Action Surge Attack v. Troll (AC 14). Hit!

15:46, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 8 using 1d8+3 with rolls of 5.  Damage (Longbow), Action Surge Attack.

Total Damage Dealt: 19.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:50, Wed 23 June 2021.

It was maybe a bit odd to see light freeze and crumble away from her body, but it was better that than her skin. Of course, this whole thing could have been avoided, but that wasn't really on her. She attempted. It wouldn't be the first time something like this had gone poorly, and it wouldn't be the last either.

The troll was looking a little woozy on it's feet, what with all the magic and weapons flying into it. Her own little ball of light didn't help too much either, slamming into the creature's head. "It's been a long day. Perhaps you should just... sleep." The stars on her shield glittered as a soft, soothing melody played for the troll's ears only. And Farwalker of course, though it wasn't all that soothing, and likely never would be.

OOC:

Move: N/A
Bonus Action: Spiritual Weapon Attack
Action: Cast Sleep
Reaction: N/A
Free Action: Get that sweet, sweet temp hp.

Today: Farwalker rolled 8 using 1d6+3.  Temp HP.
Today: Farwalker rolled 24 using 5d8 with rolls of 2,5,4,6,7.  Sleep?
Today: Farwalker rolled 8 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 6.  Spiritual weapon damage.
Today: Farwalker rolled 15 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 11.  Bonus Action Attack.

Farwalkers spell seemed to have hit its mark as the sobbing giant slowly closed its enormous eyes, rocked back and forth, and finally fell onto its back with a reverberating thump. Any sense of urgency was lost in that moment, replaced with a silence so tense one could cut it with a knife. For a moment, no one made a sound, perhaps worried that some errant noise could wake the troll from its slumber. Then the silence was softly disturbed by a dulcet voice, singing in an unknown language.

"Når trollmor har lagt sine elleve små troll
Og bundet dem fast i svansen"

Torgrim had heard the lullaby from his mother ages ago. The lyrics seemed appropriate, if a bit macabre, considering what would have to come next. He hoped the witch would take the hint and turn away.

The singing continued as Torgrim approached the troll. He was now close enough to feel its cold aura on his skin, and the frost forming on his beard. He carefully fished out two daggers from his coat. Holding one in each hand, he raised dem over the behemoths face. The tears had begun to freeze, and Torgrim thought for a moment he seemed at peace. Part of him hoped for it.

"Aiaiaiaiai boff
Aiaiaiaiai boff
Aiaiaiaiai boff boff
Aiaiaiaiai boff"

With a sickening *Crunch*, both daggers were pushed through the top of the bulbous nose, striking clean through the cranium. The trolls eyes never even opened as silence once again filled the air.

OOC:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s65YabpSFmM

Attack: two dagger strikes on the sleeping troll. Two strikes with advantage, 18 and 21. HIT.

Damage: 16 for strikes + crit, plus 16 sneak attack, for 32 total

After the troll's final breath came to an end, Moyrah holstered back her remaining axe as the light emanating from her markings slowly dimmed down. She approached the lifeless cadaver in hopes of scavenging back her axe and javelins, she simply can't afford to lose them, not in these times. On the way to the troll's body she shot a glimpse in Farwalker's direction to see if she is well.

The Troll's eyelids grew heavy upon the soft tinkling of Farwalker's melody. "U-huuh . . .", it whimpered until its sobbing grew quiet. The lullaby sounded like a wind-up music box, only the notes were more celestial and chiming, more pleasant than the sounds from a metal comb. Unable to resist the drowsiness that befell it, it slumped to the snowy ground and began snoring gently, it's neck craned backward and arms sprawled to the sides. When Torgrim braved the cold and stepped up to take advantage of the situation, it must've dreamed of whatever it was Trolls dreamed of. Bridges, sheep, caves, and forests. It had not a care in the world for the fire that had blistered its hide moments ago — the fire that made sure its powers did not propel it to its feet once more.

"Halt! Stay where you are!" Skath bellowed at Moyrah when she tried to approach the unconscious Trolls. A second later, he pushed his way past Rhydd, his red, pointed tail and captain's cloak flagging behind him. He kept his crossbow raised and level, and once close enough to the monster he launched another bolt to ensure it stayed dead. He knew some magic — a lot of magic, by the looks of it — had been at play, but he was not about to take any risks.

Hlin scoffed at the Milita Captain between heavy breaths as the edge of her battleaxe clinked against the cobblestone. One eyelid drooped and a streak of blood had frozen to her forehead. Her gray hair was tattered, and individual strands had come loose from her braid and hung down her face. Farwalker's aurora faded, but not before steadying her knees one final time. If it hadn't been for the Goliath, she would have done as the Trolls long ago and slumped down into the snow. But as it stood, she was just barely able to maintain consciousness.

---

Hlin takes 10 Cold Damage from the Troll's Cold Aura.

Farwalker takes 10 5 Cold Damage from the Troll's Cold Aura.

Easternmost Troll HP: 0/115 DEAD
Westernmost Troll HP: 0/115 DEAD

Battlemap.

Combat ends.

Notes: The Troll's Cold Aura disappears, but due to the way it works, Farwalker and Hlin still take the damage at the start of their turn, not at the Troll's.

For the time being, I am going to stop Moyrah from scavenging her equipment, but she'll likely have the opportunity soon. Or, she can ignore Skath and risk upsetting him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:34, Fri 25 June 2021.

Farwalker sighed and slid the handle of her axe back into the loop at her side in a familiar motion. Her hand now free, she gently rested it on Hlin’s shoulder. “Follow my Light.” She said softly, her hand surprisingly warm against the chill. Especially given all the layers. It was a simple healing spell, bit it would at least help with the bruises. She frowned at the trolls while removing her hand, then shook her head.

“A pity.” She turned to look at the captain thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you know what chased them here? I didn’t get a chance to ask.” Her voice was rather dry and accompanied by the sound of cracking ice, as bits of frozen starlight flaked off of her to drift down and fade away. It was quite beautiful, in an ethereal way.

"Oh, why don't you just shut up," Rhydd growled at Skath as the militia captain stormed past him and stated ordering Moyrah about.

"You've done enough harm already."

Turning his attention to Farwalker and Hiln, who had held the line against the Trolls and suffered for it, his voice softened as he spoke. "Can you two move under your own power, or do you need help getting inside where it is warm?"

"Hmm," the Old Dwarven warrior hummed as she took a moment to revel in the warmth of Farwalker's spell. Or was it her god's? No matter. After being bathed in the Trolls' freezing aura, it was a nice change of pace. When the magic had done its work and she drew another breath of perfectly ordinary cold air, she felt quite refreshed. "You Goliaths are a hardy people, I'll give you that. Well fought, my friend. Well fought . . ." she said and patted Farwalker's hand.

Skath shot Farwalker a less-than-appreciative glance. "Crag Cats," he answered her sarcastically. A Troll would undoubtedly make short work of a clowder of Crag Cats. After kicking one of the felled monsters — he was fairly certain the second one was dead and had been dead for some time now — with his boot for a final reassurance that it was not about to get up, he fastened his crossbow to the straps on his back, then turned to face his entourage of guardsmen and the cumbersome adventurers who had decided to momentarily usurp his lead. "We will figure all out in time! You," he pointed to one of the guards, a dark-haired individual who was removing his helmet, "put your storming helmet back on! You will go to Town Hall and inform Naerth of what has transpired as best as your walnut brain can recount! A scouting party will be arranged. If there are yet more threats immediate to Targos, they will be uncovered. You." he pointed to another guardsman. "Locate Niels, the ranger who arrived here yesterday. Try the stables first. The rest of you will man the gates! And find out if the guards who were in charge of it are still alive! If they are, they will wish the Trolls had ended them!" The men obeyed quickly. Then Skath stared Rhydd in the eyes and continued. "In the meantime, you will all head to your lodgings, where you will remain. And when you are needed, you will be called upon."

"Skřyer," Hlin grumbled and spat on the ground as she limped back to steady herself on a building. For those well versed in Dwarvish, she had called him an imp, and a nasty, dishonest one at that.

If Skath had understood he had not reacted visibly.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 22:15, Fri 25 June 2021.

In her secluded point on the other side of the whole affair, Mallory pressed herself to the chilled wooden wall and struggled to keep herself under control.  She just had to keep breathing.  The distant sound of the unseen brutality coming to an end on the haunting notes of a grim lullaby just served to twist up her stomach even more and she nearly wretched.  It was all nearly more than she could bear, but she struggled with herself to maintain despite the horrid moment...

The soft flutter of Astre's wings as he came alight on the edge of the rooftop just over Mallory's head was a boon to her.  She cast her gaze up to her beloved companion and smiled weakly.  "You know, I was starting to worry about you.  It's unlike you to be so quiet for--"  She stopped short as if interrupted despite no sound at all coming from her Tressym.  Her pained expression blended with confusion as she reached out for the feline, though her inviting gesture wasn't taken.  "What?  Astre, you've never apologized for anything in your life.  Why... are..."

It was then, as Astre opened his jaws and let a single tiny black button fall to Mallory's outstretched palm, as her pupils dilated out to consume her eyes in spreading black, that he spoke to her.

---

Telepathic Communication has its ups and downs, but Astre explains everything he's witnessed while he was away earlier.

---

"In the meantime, you will all head to your lodgings, where you will remain. And when you are needed, you will be called upon."

It was about that time that the thus far unseen noblewoman returned to the scene with a slow stagger in her stride.  Sluggish and dazed; she made her way past the fallen Trolls without even a passing glance to their smoldering corpses, nor a flinch from the reek of scorched flesh.  "No... no, Captain, I think you need to take us to see Speaker Naerth right now."  There was a certain hollowness in Mallory's voice that left it monotone, a far cry from the usual prim tone she carried.  Her head was down and hood obscuring of her features as she still stared at the single scuffed button that rested cradled in her open palms, trembling from more than just the cold.  Skath would find himself fixed by eyes as empty as her voice had been when Mallory lifted her gaze to meet his.  Eyes rendered pitch black entirely as tears welled and rolled down her cheeks in long streaks of ruined mascara that yielded the ominous appearance of that strange, inky blackness somehow overflowing her eyes and spilling free.

Moyrah stopped in her tracks, with her head bowed down, upon hearing the militia captain's command, but as soon as the sound of the crossbow broke the silence, she continued walking toward the lifeless corpses. "Not even a thank you...." She replied mockingly to the tiefling. "....Not even an ounce of respect after we have saved the town for the second time already, not an ounce of gratitude after we have done the job you and your men were incapable of doing. Tsk tsk tsk..." She plants her foot firmly onto the Troll's thick skin before proceeding to pull out the first weapon of hers that she comes across.

"Instead of kissing the bottom of our boots for doing you a favor, you continue to belittle us and boss us around. I will make sure to mention your behavior to Naerth first thing we see him." While she was wiping off the blood off of her axe with the troll's skin, Moyrah took a quick survey of the number of Skath's men around.

---

OOC: Moyrah would like to see how many of the guards are still around since Skath shooed a couple of them away.

18:38, Today: Moyrah the Mutt rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Intimidation against Skath roll.

18:38, Today: Moyrah the Mutt rolled 14 using 1d20+2.  Intimidation against Skath roll.


This message was last edited by the player at 17:39, Sat 26 June 2021.

A look of concern flitted across Rhydd's face as Lady Mallory made her appearance. The noblewoman seemed much the worse for wear, and the archer wondered if mayhap she had been hit by an errant crossbow bolt. He was fairly certain that she had not been close enough to the Trolls to have suffered at their hands.

He strolled over towards the wizardess, keeping his longbow in his left hand in case the situation with Skath became so intolerable that he needed to put an arrow into the man. True, that would most likely make him unwelcome in Targos, but Rhydd could live with that. He really preferred being out on his own in the Wilds and away from the press of all these people, any way.

Once he had come near to where Mallory stood, he asked quietly "Were you wounded in the battle, Lady Mallory? Do you need assistance?"

"Your help could have threatened to jeopardize our entire strategy," Skath snarled at Moyrah in response to her rebuttal, but he let the childish Half-Orc yank out her javelins. "And you may complain to Naerth all you want — let's see which side he takes." The sudden presence of the distraught woman did serve quell his ire — somewhat — as even the strident Tiefling wasn't so heartless as to ignore her tears. "Miss," he went on. "I assure you, Naerth will wish to speak with you. In time. But as it stands, you're of the most help if you stay put in the warmth of The Luskan Arms. I am in charge, and it is my responsibility to ensure everyone's safety."

---

Moyrah's Intimidation (Advantage granted by Rhydd's assistance) [6 14] against Skath's Intimidation [15]: Skath wins the contest.

Mallory's Persuasion [10] against Skath's Insight [19]: Skath wins the contest.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:16, Sat 26 June 2021.

Rhydd's concern was met with a delayed reaction, as if Mallory only distantly heard him speaking to her from far away.  Her gaze remained lost in the unnatural darkness which had taken her that morning when she'd foretold of grave misfortune, uncertain as she was as to whom it would befall.  She groped out with one trembling hand to grip onto Rhydd's sleeve and then to his arm for support, having seemingly lost her fear of his callous manner in the face of some greater fright.  "They're... they're dead, Mister Maldhon.  Cold on the floor.  I don't... I don't want to see it, but I can't close my eyes.  Frozen, cold, smelling of lavender and oil... she's so small..." Mallory babbled away.  One could perhaps assume witnessing and participating in the death of the Trolls had shaken her wits, but not once did her unblinking gaze turn to the nearby corpses.  Her demeanor was different from before; none of the bravado of the so-called "Witch of Neverwinter", nor the wry manner of put-upon nobility she often carried.  It left her seeming... smaller, somehow.  Diminished, as if she'd been hollowed out by whatever it was she alone witnessed by her strange vision.

"I am in charge, and it is my responsibility to ensure everyone's safety."

"As you ensured the safety of Mister Herve and his daughter?" she asked distantly as she clenched her fist about the button she carried.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:02, Sat 26 June 2021.

Mallory's incoherent reply was met only with a furrowed brow and an intrigued expression from Moyrah's side, unlike the tiefling's unnecessary comment. She knew that Mallory's heart was in a good place, which is why the mage's words were inherently imbued with truthfulness and believability, still, a lot of the things have been left unsaid.

The frozen skin and flesh of the trolls made the retrieval of the weapons much harder and getting them cleaned up proved to be almost impossible, making the dialogue between the two figures a more than welcome distraction.

For a time, the low whistle of the cold winds was the only response. Skath remained calm, but his fixed gaze became less than sympathetic. He pursed his lips, clearly mulling things over. Then he clicked his tongue. "So that was you – somebody'd tampered with the stove. You are sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, young Miss."

He cast a cursory glance at the rest of the intrusive crowd. She might have shared information with them, but no matter – if they had been unbeknownst to the situation, they weren't any longer. Still stewing, Skath adjusted his crossbow-straps and began walking for the town square. "I'll take you to see Naerth."

Perhaps if Mallory were of a stronger sense of mind at that moment, she may have conjured some witty remark or coy denial to toss at Skath.  But nothing of the sort came.  As he caved to her demand despite his own decision prior, the trembling noblewoman moved to follow him with a slow, numbed stride.  She seemed intent to go and would do so alone if the others didn't fall in as well, though if Rhydd kept pace with her she'd cling to his arm the whole trek.

Rhydd stared at Mallory, a look of uncomprehension on his face, when the woman began talking about someone being dead. Given her subsequent remark to Skath, it seemed that she felt that the Tiefling was at least partially at fault -- for not protecting Herve and his daughter, if nothing else. ~~I'll have to get the full story, once we can speak without the whole town overhearing,~~ he thought to himself. ~~I wonder how she came by such information? She's been within my eyesight all morning, and I haven't noticed anything like that.

The archer took note that Lady Mallory's comments seemed to have gotten under Skath's chin, based upon the Tiefling's comment about her sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

Rhydd slowed his stride so that he was moving at the same pace as Mallory. He offered her his right arm for support and held his bow -- its bowstring still strung -- in his left hand instead of stowing it across his back.

He turned to the militia commander, who apparently thought it necessary to be present when Mallory spoke to Naerth.

"What's the story, Skath? If Herve is dead, how did that happen?"

"Who knows?" Skath danced around Rhydd's question. He had very few reasons to answer, and very many not to. "Perhaps Naerth will enlighten you . . ."

"Seems to me that it's your job to know such things," Rhydd replied, glowering at the Tiefling.

"To, you know, keep the townspeople safe -- to know how and why they weren't safe, if they are dead. Oh, and to keep the damn gates closed so that Trolls can't just wander down the streets."

"You aren't very good at your job, are you, Skath?"

Skath looked over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. "I'd like to see you whip these stubborn imbeciles into shape," he snarled. "The times have changed, or are you too stupid to have noticed? The Northmen refuse to change with them."

"It's not his fault... can't help people not following orders.  Acting on their own." Despite the somewhat antagonistic shift in demeanor Skath had taken in light of Mallory's remarks, she spoke to his defense in a manner.  Though given what the Tiefling captain knew of the truth of the situation, her comments were bound to spark further realization of just how much insight the shaken noble truly had.

Mallory clutched tighter onto Rhydd's arm as they went.  Bit by bit the ominous darkness that had overtaken her eyes receded back into her pupils to reveal her true gaze once again.  Yet still unfocused, reddened by tears, with a thousand-yard stare that made it clear even if her vision had properly come back to the present, her thoughts were still held elsewhere in the past.  "We're not enemies, Mister Maldhon.  The Speaker and the Captain aren't... they're..." she mumbled into his shoulder.  "It's a struggle.  Struggling with enemies and themselves.  Don't need more enemies... need help..."

"Well, I think you both have done a fine job, considering how little time you've had." After doing a quick search for his dagger in the area around the trolls, Torgrim had caught up to the group, passed Mallory and Rhydd, and was now walking alongside Skath. "I've spent enough time here to know that Targos is a tough beast to handle, and requires a firm hand on the reins lest it's bitten off." He emphasized the last words with a smile and a clenched fist. "I'm sure the good speaker would agree."

"Excellent distraction maneuver back there, by the way. We would probably not have been able to win out without you and your men. In fact, I think it's only fitting that you get your share of any reward the speaker deems appropriate for such a feat. What would be the expected bonus for a man with your undoubtedly impressive and well earned salary?"

When it came to people with power, Torgrim had usually found it best to stay out of sight and out of mind. When that failed, it was best to stay on their good side for as long as possible. In his experience people were usually eager to accept flattery, even when transparently embellished.


OOC:
Torgrim spends a minute to search for the dagger he threw. If it can't be found in that short amount of time he would give up and catch up with the others.
Perception: 11 using 1d20+1.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:22, Mon 28 June 2021.

Farwalker had said her piece, and while everyone else was arguing with the captain she was saying a quiet prayer for the two dead trolls. She'd always disliked fighting the unintelligent. When she was done, she let out a low breath and pulled the stone she'd been handed from her pouch. She rubbed it thoughtfully with a thumb, the slight patina of frost that seemed to cover everything she owned melting with the motion. After considering it for a moment, she tucked it away in a pouch before looking at the dead trolls and sighing.

While unlikely it was possible they had more on them than the single pretty stone. And if nothing else, she might find something that she could use to carve a memorial for them, like so many other beads in her hair.

OOC: I'll uh, search the trolls and catch up with everyone else in a minute, I guess.

The Half-Elf's compliments seemed more backhanded than genuine to the Captain. Despite having spotted the man in The Luskan Arms once or twice prior, Skath frankly had no idea who he was. But if he'd thrown his lot in with this belligerent bunch, his judgements weren't worth an ounce. "Piss off," was the response Torgrim earned.

---

Torgrim Persuasion (w/ Disadvantage granted by Rhydd) [9] against Skath's Insight [18]: Skath wins the contest, and Torgrim's attempted compliments fall flat.

---

The Trolls were, in the end, just Trolls. Farwalker was unable to find anything else of value in the creature's mottled coats. A few bones here and there from some animal it had eaten, a pair of twigs, and some completely ordinary, gray rocks which absolutely did not float. Her earlier suspicion had been correct — wherever it had gotten the Ioun Stone from, it had likely only been the one. Perhaps it hid some more in there, but meticulously combing through its thick strands of hair, frozen stuck into chunks from slobber and snot, was a process fit for pitchforks, not hands. And in the end, it was unlikely to unearth more than bark and old scabs, Farwalker figured.

---

Farwalker Religion Check to figure out the Ioun Stone's properties [21]: Farwalker had heard of these before. Mysteries of the World. Her tribe had known of them. And if she wasn't entirely mistaken, she'd seen one in use during her travels. An elderly human priestess of Sune, who had accompanied their band only briefly, had possessed one of a blue variant. She had used it only for rites, and it had orbited her head.

Their name stems from the god Ioun, a god of knowledge and prophecy. They hold stored magical energy, and through a link with its owner, it can transfer small packets of this energy to them. One only had to let it orbit, and it would do the rest. The revered priestess had explained the process of attunement. One had to clench their hand around the stone and hold it for a while to allow the energies to harmonize. And if the stone didn't orbit when tossed, you hadn't gripped it long enough.

Rosy prism. This stone would protect. It wasn't something Farwalker could recall learning — it was something she could intuit.

Once all of the axes and javelins were strapped securely back in their place, Moyrah decided to rejoin the group, trailing behind Torgrim, Skath, Rhydd, and Mallory on their way back to the town square. She may appear a bit distant and detached to the onlookers, and rightfully so. After another day filled with such anomalies, Moyrah's energy levels have diminished significantly, she missed her home, her hearth, and her bed, and above all the fish stew she hoped hasn't rotten away.

Despite her feeling of being under the weather, she kept her eyes firmly on the pompous tiefling, his arrogance and lack of willingness to provide the group with any straightforward answer, painted a picture of an off-putting character. His assumption of being exempt from any type of repercussion from Naerth, and the utmost confidence that the town speaker won't ever stand against him, just showed how much the corruption has poisoned what was once a thriving fishing town. "Soon enough, we will see where the truth really hides"