Snow jerks back in pain as the javelin breaches the defence of his leather armour with a crackle and once again strikes his injured shoulder.

Regaining his composure and ignoring the pain he smiles at the golden toothed thug, raises his bow and starts to play an urgent melody on his violin, concentrating on the void inside it. He focuses the sound there, allowing it to build into a well of magical energy. He looks towards the group of thugs on the walkway and the magical energy forms into a glowing pillar of light (Moonbeam), appearing on the thugs attacking Varielky.

His eyes flick across to the thug in the Amazigh colours who attempted to shove Varielky, and he grins as he reaches out and wills him back with a mental shove of his own.

He then moves to find cover from the crossbows and javelins, crouching in the boat.

Round 2 Results

Varielky’s blow to golden teeth #1, guided by Granophyre’s bless, hits, drawing a deep red gash across his pectorals. #1 is frightened of Varielky, whose second blow, against #4, hits, leaving deep slashes across both of the man’s thighs. The shield bash against #5 fails as he grabs the shield in both hands (RP) and sneers at Varielky.

Powdered resin flies from Snow’s bow as it trembles over the strings of his magnificent instrument. His moonbeam hits #1 and #4 full on, and they both sizzle, eyes bulging out, under the cool but deadly radiance. #6 makes his STR save and doesn’t budge against Snow’s telekinetic shove.

Auger manages extraordinary calm, floating like a crucified corpse on his back and his spell goes off. The position of the sphere, centered on the water image at R9, means that the heads of #1, #4, and #8 will be just above the edge of the cloud. #3 and #7 are completely blinded. Py, at 40’ can see everything. ‘There is no one else coming,’ he sends to Auger.

Granophyre peeks out behind Snow and sends healing to Varielky: +9HP.

#1 Golden Teeth leaps away from Varielky to land on a sloop on the other side of the walkway. He yells “GET HER!!,” which none of his men can hear due to the treesap gum.

#2 moves until he has a clear shot at Varielky, and, attempting not to hit his own allies, fires a bolt which whizzes over everyone’s heads.

#3, blinded and deafened, flies into a rage and leaps forward toward Varielky’s last position, taking him directly through Snow’s moonbeam which he cannot see. He deftly lands between Varielky and Snow, on the Animu Borongo, his face smoking from radiant damage, draws his scimitar, and attacks Varielky from behind, but misses.

#4, his arms crackling and burned from the moonbeam, leaps down the walkway, turns, and throws his spear at Auger, a rolled 21 for 7HP damage.

#5 draws a scimitar and attacks Varielky recklessly. (Any attack against him in the coming round is at advantage). He hits for 6HP.

#6 draws a scimitar and attacks Varielky recklessly. (Any attack against him in the coming round is at advantage). He crits for 15HP.

#7, blinded, tiptoes forward but freezes in agony when he enters the moonbeam, frying in place.

#8 side steps to draw a bead on Snow, levels his crossbow and fires, hitting for 4HP.

You are now situated like so.

Please post Round 3 actions.

(I suppose 1 used disengage to move out of Varielky's range, since he didn't do anything other than that, but I'll assume #4 didn't. Ignore her reaction if somehow he did/he has some feature that allows avoiding an attack of opportunity.)

As golden-teeth moves away from her, Varielky catches the other Amazigh assailant she attacked earlier trying to leap away from her, to which she responds by slashing her sword at him. Thanks to that movement, she's able to unknowingly dodge an attack from behind her, but at the same time, fails to defend against two other attacks.

As she grits her teeth in pain, Varielky feels her consciousness fading. She's losing too much blood on almost a daily basis, and even small cuts are more dangerous than they should be. She raises her red-steel blade upwards, calling in Dreyen: ["Veleif! May you channel Odin's power through you to aid me in ridding this world of those who serve the poisoning house of Amazigh!"] As she feels the divine power flowing through her, Varielky turns to the enemy on the boat, then slashes downwards at one, quickly following the strike with an upward gash. 

Reaction, if given: Attack of Opportunity made against #4 just before they leave her range. Attack: 3+22 Damage: 15.

BA: Using Dreygaard's Lay on Hands ability to restore 10 HP. 

Action: Attacking #3 twice. 
Attack: 1+11 Damage: 14.
Attack: 3+20 Damage: 17.
If somehow #3 dies before the second strike, Varielky would redirect it to #6. In that case, here's the advantage's second roll: 23.

Snow:

Concentration: 22

Snow feels the crossbow slice the skin of his thigh and grimaces, but maintains his focus. He sees the thug in front of him and is about to draw his rapier when he sees Varielky beyond the thug. She is surrounded and taking hits from all sides.

He cannot see what effect the Moonbeam is currently having, it is obscured by fog, but he can see Amazighs attacking his companions. He points with the bow and wills the Moonbeam to move towards two of the Amazighs, smiling as ghostly flame engulfs them.

Turning his attention back to Varielky, he speaks some words of power and focusses on her, willing her wounds to heal.

Reaction

Sensing the struggle spellcasting would cause in the water, Auger begins clambering up on to the boat to the south of the Animu Borongo. Seeing a spear come at him, Auger again uses his energies to jerkily redirect the weapon, this time down harmlessly into the water.

Auger stands with his rod and looks at his momentarily weaponless assailant and shakes his head. Reaching for his energies and channeling them through his rod a purple spinning glow flows around each end of the focus. Yes, that does feel more efficient, Auger thinks. Auger releases twin beams of energies into the Amazigh, attempting to push him back and into the water.

Actions and so on

Round 3 Results

Varielky slashes #4 as he passes, crunching through his rib cage, and #4 falls the moment he releases his spear at Auger, head first, into the river, motionless. Pivoting, Varielky slays #3 too, an expert blow slicing through his neck. Blood sprays, he clutches the wound and falls off of the Animu Borongo under the walkway. Sensing #6’s blade slashing toward her calves, she leaps up over his strike, reverses, and strikes forcefully, raking his left arm for 10HP damage.

Snow’s moonbeam shifts to engulf #5 and #6, and they both are seared in its radiant light. 

Py hides while Auger pulls himself out of the water and blasts #5 with one beam, shattering his pelvis and throwing him off of the walkway, where his head cracks into the boat moored behind him and he slides down motionless underwater. Beam 2 strikes #6, snapping his spine and sending him cartwheeling to the other side of Golden Teeth to hang for a moment on the edge of a barge, then slide lifelessly into the dark waters.

Golden Teeth, in a rage, doesn’t care that he’s leaping through Snow’s moonbeam. He’ll have the bard’s tongue!!! But Varielky is in the way!! He attacks the shield-maiden, lifting his scimitar above his head, but the searing moon-radiance disintegrates him. Six gold teeth are all that remain, and they clatter to the walkway as the scimitar clanks off of Varielky’s shield. 

#7 follows the sound of combat, but then disengages and jumps off of the walkway to swim away for dear life. #2 and #8 hightail it too. 

You can stop them if you wish. 

(OOC: This post assumes general agreement on dropping out of combat - if you want to pursue things then just say so and I can revise)

Auger dispiritedly watches them run away. How far would this story get? He raises his rod and begins channeling energies to focus into another pair of beams, but then a picture comes into his mind. His beam sickeningly cracking through one of the men, the other hurled into the boat. When had killing become so easy? Disgusted with himself, Auger lets them run.

Momentarily he considers bringing his Fog Cloud down but he realizes it will amount to cover for them as they deal with dead bodies. WIth a simple trick of the mind, he allows the "Water Elemental" he had shaped to dissipate back into the water. That was fine work he thought, smiling inwardly.

Keep an eye out for any of them returning Py. And mind the - uhh...

Looking at the beam of light still sending its searing energies down into the dock Auger quietly says, "Impressive. I assume this is your work Captain Das. Were you... playing a violin through all that?" Auger sighs and looks over at a floating body, unsure what to do with it. "Perhaps you should meet Greybeard and then we can see about getting your mast up. We will want to be away before these Amazighs return with some who can stand against us."

Auger steps back on to the dock and examines his other companion and her clearly discernible wounds, "Varielky, you have fought well, as ever. I think it would be smartest if you were to rest and recover for a while before continuing on. I know enough of ships to help the Captain, should he need it."

(OOC: I think if we allowed V to take a short rest then she can be ready to deal with any returnees. Auger is in decent shape right now.)

Varielky leaves the runners be. There's nothing honorous about chasing cowards. She's not even sure who they are, as they do not wear the Amazigh livery as the others do. She flicks her sword sharply, and the blood sprays over the dock. Then, as she sheathes the sword, the mark on her forehead disappears. Varielky unstraps her shield and flings it back to where it was before. Then, she turns towards the boat.

"I appreciate your concern, but what of the mast?"  "It looks heavy - will you three be able to do it by yourselves? I can rest while we're in motion." Varielky then studies the captain with her eyes. She's seen people who played songs during battles, as well as those who accompanied their tunes with magical effects. There were quite a few of them in Lokimarra, she remembers, these Bards. "Been a while since I've seen one of your kind." She addresses the captain. "Thanks for the support." 

Snow watches with a sense of relief as the Amazighs along with their golden toothed leader are put down. It made a grim scene, but rather this than the other way around. He turns to see the thug who had tried to take the Animu Borongo earlier turn tail and run.

He points his finger along his bow at the man and channels a fraction of energy through his violin and whispers, “That is your last chance, you and your friends had best not show your faces to me again!”. He isn’t sure whether or not the Message got through, with his ears plugged though.

Realising Auger was speaking to him, he turns back around, breathing heavily now. “Ah yes, that is mine”, he says and lets his concentration, along with the Moonbeam drop. He smiles at mention of the music, “I find a bit of music adds a certain ambience to proceedings”. He stows his violin behind his back and looks around at the carnage that is visible through the fog, “A quick meeting with Greybeard, and then to the mast. We should leave here as soon as possible”.

Hearing Varielky thank him for his assistance after she put her life literally on the line for him takes him aback, “You….you are welcome, but you deserve all the thanks, if not for you, both of you, I would certainly be the one floating down the river face down”.

“I think if we could all work on the mast, it will be quicker, then you can both rest whilst I pilot us up river. Now where is this Greybeard of yours”, he says taking a deep breath and heading towards the cabin.

He has many questions for his passengers, they both showed incredible abilities and their equipment was extraordinary, but now was not the time.

Snow senses two things from his message. First that its target heard him without a doubt. And second, that the man had every hope of never crossing paths with the Animu Borongo ever again. Given that he—the thug— and the other two bolted away in different directions, all three at a terrified sprint, Varielky and Auger too intuit (correctly) that the Amazighs will not be bothering them again tonight. Moreover, the supposed winner of the boat in question is now dead, and those three who ran away will be reluctant to speak of their cowardice (or indeed, intelligence) to anyone close to Golden Teeth. In short, the party senses (correctly) that they are safe to quietly book a room in an inn and enjoy a comfortable and uninterrupted night’s rest here in this little suburban fishing village.

As Snow turns toward the cabin, he, and Auger and Varielky, see “Greybeard” standing in the cabin doorway, brow raised, glancing back and forth quickly between The three of you to assess the seriousness of wounds suffered.

His resonant basso quietly answers Snow’s question. “I believe it is I you speak of, Mister Das.” He, “Greybeard,” is of average height for a dwarf, or sindarrin, as they refer to themselves, his complexion brown as brownstone or clay, with long silver beard and thick silver locks extending down to his shoulders. He wears an elegant red cloak over an embroidered vest and a suit of light dwarven mail — all completely tidy, unlike his traveling companions — and though plainly an elder, even for a dwarf, he stands upright with easy confidence, one hand holding the doorframe for balance on the shifting river water, the other hand, large and steady, at his side. His eyes are dark and thoughtful, with a spark of intelligence shining as brightly as any Snow has seen.

“Varielky,” he says, “your strength has only grown in recent weeks. How lucky am I to enjoy your service. And Auger, your powers shine brighter by the day it seems. Perhaps you will have a moment to show me a new carving when the moment suits you. Would you kindly hand me that pouch? Yes, thank you Auger, the one in your pack. Very good, very good. Oh my! So that is what you were playing,” the dwarf says, as Snow turns to pass the pouch from Auger to Greybeard. “What a remarkable instrument, and of the kind the ancients played, unlike the modern viol…” His eyes narrow ever so slightly as he looks back to Snow, appraisingly. “May I ask where it came from?” But he interrupts himself, “Nay, nay, that can wait. Come Mr. Das, let us speak as businessmen for a moment, for both your vessel and your talents are of great interest to me, and I am curious whether our goals in the short term are aligned. With your permission — and I apologize for the necessary deceptions involved in my passage through the city, which meant that I have already helped myself to the privacy of your cabin without it — but with your permission, I suggest we speak in your cabin?”

Snow looks Greybeard over with interest, not really sure what he was expecting. He understands even more now the need for secrecy, the Dwarf in front of him could easily be mistaken for Strewn. Not that he knows what Strewn looks like himself.

“You know your relics”, he says to Greybeard as he talks about his violin. “But you are right, plenty of time to talk about such things later”, he adds glancing at Varielky and Auger.

He nods and makes his way into the cabin. “I understand the need for secrecy, so apology accepted. I am curious to know your purpose in the Vale, so please join me. If we can be of assistance to each other beyond simple transport I would certainly be interested”, he says as he enters and takes a seat on one of the bunks.

As Captain Das steps down into the cabin with 'Greybeard', Auger attempts to use his water shaping ability to dry his clothing, via removing the water. His fine coat of course was already dry. Perhaps it had never become wet. Auger then steps up and down the dock, searching for any sign of damages he can repair in order to lower the profile of their stay. The other boats appeared to have not taken any damage. When Auger examines the dock where the Moonbeam came down he tsks for a moment and begins channeling his energies in order to enact what repairs he can to the wood. After taking what steps he could, Auger looks over to the floating bodies and uses his connection with water to slowly make them move away from the docks and to let the river take them away. The gold teeth he pauses to examine for a moment and then leaves where they lay. Those would be the Captain's claim if he wanted them. Looking around and seeing he has been able to take all possible steps to make them fit in, Auger lets his fog cloud dissipate into the night and steps back on to the Animu Borongo.

To Varielky, Auger says, "Well now that you point it out, I doubt we can do much without your help when it comes to the mast. Py says no one else approaches. And the one with the teeth there seemed to have the complaint. I think perhaps we can all rest and then get this mast set in the morning."

Come down here. Time for you to relax too I think. How long were you invisible today? Hours it seems...

Py makes itself visible and then flies down and lands on Auger's shoulder.

"You know what I need? Food. I could use some food." Auger says, examining Py, now on his hands, but addressing Varielky. "Perhaps we should head over and take care of our stomachs at the local inn." If we stay the night, perhaps I can find some wood to carve, Auger thinks to himself.

SNOW

‘Greybeard’ sits upon the other bunk, which, like the one Snow rests on, shows no sign whatsoever of his prior presence. Without further ado, he picks up where he left off. 

“I, and Varielky and Auger, who have served me admirably these last weeks on my journey, are traveling north, into the Vale of Deshar. To its farther slopes. It is within my means to hire a third individual, such as yourself, as a defender and aide-de-camp. Fate, or the gods, in their grace, have seen fit to cross our paths — to say the least — or perhaps — as tributaries to a broader stream— to flow side-by-side, at least for a time. Would you be willing to discuss working for me, as guardian and enabler of my continuing travels, at least for as long as your own plans sailing northward on the Sebu allow?”

Snow listens with interest as Greybeard speaks about fate, and of their paths crossing for some purpose, perhaps divine. It could be possible, after all it was faith that had brought him here himself. Maybe not divine faith, but faith in the information he had been given. Faith in a source that had not steered him wrong yet. Faith that his father was out there still, somewhere. And in truth all his energy so far had been expended in getting him this close to the Vale of Deshar, but as to what came next, it was not something he could have planned.

But there was that word that Greybeard used, stressed even. Working for him. For.

"Our meeting was certainly fortuitous for both parties. With the current situation Kalahata was a dangerous place for you, although I expect you and your companions would have fared well even without me. And it is true that without the three of you I would likely not have made it this far. Both for the money you brought and the protection you have offered", he says nodding his head.

He narrows his eyes ever so slightly. "You have explained where you are going, but if I am to consider working for you, I would like to hear a little bit about your purpose", he says making sure to stress the word 'for'. "I am not a soldier, Mr Greybeard. In truth I am more peaceful than you might believe. And although I am willing to defend myself, my ideals and my friends, I am not willing to fight for a cause I have no stake in just for money". He locks eyes with Greybeard as he says this, trying to get a read on the man.

"For my part I am not merely working as a river boat captain taking on fares. I mean to explore the area of the Vale of Deshar, I believe there is something here of importance, although I could not tell you what. My journey is one of discovery", he adds honestly but without giving too much away of his own purpose. "In terms of our current arrangement, none of this changes that. I am willing to take you as far up the Sebu as you require, but if you are willing to share more of your plans and motivations, I am open to extending that agreement".

SNOW

As Snow speaks, Greybeard, his eyes on the bard, absentmindedly unwinds the pouch which the young woman called Benita La Cass had dropped, stops to  fumble in a vest pocket for a pair of spectacles, which he places them on the bridge of his nose and peers through them for a moment at the pouch’s contents.

“Forgive me,” he utters quietly, “I need to ensure… ah, good.” Eyes back on Snow, he removes the smooth oblong object Snow had felt inside the pouch, a figurine of brass or gold of a small bird, wings folded smoothly against its body and assesses, quickly, the remaining contents then tucks the pouch away in his belt.

“More information, you ask. A  reasonable request, to be sure.”

He frowns, searching for words, and then seems to come to a decision, absentmindedly flipping the bird up over his shoulder to land, impossibly, upright and on its feet atop a little shelf over a cupboard.

“Like you, I am seeking something. Something whose precise location is an enigma… and the nature of which… such that there are many who would either hinder my pursuit or else hope to use what I find for their own gain. That is why I must take great care in sharing details regarding my goal.”

His tone is that of a sage — not pedantic, but rather, committed to conveying his ideas to another with utmost care.

“But… let us put that aside for just a moment. The longer I think on the instrument there beside you, it reminds me of…” His eyes narrow slightly and he asks, ever so guardedly, as one who is going out on a limb. “Would you perchance have any dealings with the College of… Pomeroy?”

"I understand where you're coming from," Varielky answers. Rations are nice, but actual food is nicer. Especially now that Ednyss no longer walks with them, no longer there to flavour their meals. "But I don't want to leave him alone in a place like this. Let's at least wait until they're done inside, then see what the plan is." Varielky sits down on the dock, staring into the water. He said it'll take him some time before he could talk with her again... but Varielky couldn't find the patience to wait. What else could she do? Stare into the water, it seems.

Snow waits patiently whilst Greybeard fumbles about with his spectacles and the pouch, a slight hint of a smile on his face. His eyes widen slightly as he watches the figurine glide through the air, and he almost reaches out with his mind to catch it, but before he can it lands gracefully. His smile grows a little more.

Greybeards story was indeed familiar, searching for something whose precise location was not known. At least he knew what it was. He leans forward, clearly invested in finding out more.

He sits back warily at talk of his violin, unsure where this conversation was going, and when Greybeard mentions Pomeroy he takes a deep inhale of breath. He lets it out slowly as he contemplates the question, torn between being open and defensive.

He strokes the back of his neck, frowns and focusses on his feet for a moment, then brings his eyes up to lock with Greybeard’s. “I do have history with the College of Pomeroy”, he says finally. “Both as a student and more recently the Dean has funded some expeditions I have undertaken. What interest do you hold with the college?”

AUGER & VARIELKY

Soon enough, the shallow, perfect cylinder which Snow’s moonbeam carved from the top layer of the marina’s walkway is knit back together by Auger’s mending and it and the neighboring small vessels, thanks to the warlock’s ministrations, show no signs of the battle just past. Answering to his beckoning, the river waters push the bodies out toward the center of the river as it passes under Kalahata, ensuring that they drift toward the sewer grates rather than the canals. When the southerner’s fog cloud dissipates, he sees that the fishermen upstream are still where they were, a slight snoring sound barely reaching his ears. He and Varielky note, a few minutes later, the Cat who manages the docks leaving his warehouse, a small pill cap atop his head, whistling tunelessly as he turns away and into the village. In the distance, the sounds of music and laughter lend warmth to the surroundings, even as the thickening fog overhead brings a chill.

SNOW

“You see,” responds Greybeard, “erm… I happened upon an article in a journal. Last year. Scribed by the College of Pomeroy, whose Dean I happen – also – to know. The article included  an illustration and detailed the discovery of an ancient flute which had been recovered there, in the Kingdoms.” As he speaks, his focus seems to move away from present circumstances to the moment of his reading the article. He smooths his mustache thoughtfully as his calm basso continues, “You see, there were certain markings on the instrument which… I recognized, and I was reminded that it, if it was the instrument I thought it was, had been created as part of a pair of instruments, commissioned by, we believe, a husband and wife. Long ago, very long ago. Or perhaps presented to them as a gift. And I wondered, if the flute had been found, whether… whether its mate had been discovered too.” He looks back to Snow, a twinkle in his glance. “And I notice very similar markings upon your instrument.” His eyes catch Snow’s once again, appraisingly. “Might you have had anything to do with the discovery? Of the flute?”

Snow stands and begins to pace a little in front of Greybeard. “You certainly know your history and your artifacts Mr Greybeard. I cannot imagine there are many people who would recognise those markings, let alone know their meaning and the story surrounding them”.

He runs his hand through his hair, “I had no idea anyone would be able to connect the flute with the violin”, he mumbles thoughtfully, before realising what he had said. 

“Your instincts are correct, I was involved in the expedition for the flute. In fact it was my expedition”, he says sensing the dwarf would see through any attempts at deception. “I had come across some information regarding its whereabouts, and used my contacts at the college to get funding. I had no idea about the violin at that time, and it wasn’t part of the commission from the Dean, so....”, he lets the sentence trail off.

He turns, sits back down and locks eyes with Greybeard once again, seeing the intelligence there. He takes the violin from the straps on his back and holds it out in front of him for the dwarf to see.

“You are some kind of sage or scholar yourself I see. Is this thing you are searching for in the Vale of Deshar also an artifact from ages past? Something related to the Old Mystics perhaps?”, he asks with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“The Old Mystics,” repeats the dwarf, taking a deep breath and leaning against the bunk’s baseboard, suddenly seeming older, looking inward, a bubbling kettle going flat when pulled from the flame. “The Old Mystics, indeed. They’re part of the question aren’t they, to be sure. For the deeper one digs… the farther into their arcane realm one descends. Afterlife metaphors notwithstanding,” he adds with a wan wave of his hand. 

“But it’s not their history which interests me, not theirs alone. I’m seeking something made by my own people. Yet of course the two timelines intersect and dance, until the point when they simultaneously…” A beat passes. Two. 

“It… was a remarkable find. Of yours. Those items, buried for… millennia in all likelihood. Mr Das — or do you prefer ‘captain’? — is it the Old Mystics? Something in their past, which draws you here, to the Vale?”