The Journeys through Narth'ryal

((For transparency, it's Been discussed with Wulcrath that a Dash may not be and amendments may be necessary))

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Knowing where to apply the pressure, Bart ties a makeshift bandage with a quick tear if his undershirt. Aazel is now stable.

 Death Save: 10

3° success, Khazan is stable now.

The remaining Lackey stares at the helpless victims with widened eyes before running past Wulcrath with blades at the ready...

Wulcrath, attack roll for Opportunity Attack please.

Wulcrath sees his chance to make a decisive strike with his Longsword...

Attack - 19

Damage - 9  

Bart's temporary bandages quell the blood flow from Aazel's side. His spirit, on the verge of sinking from his body into the earth beneath, grasps on and fights for a little longer. Blackness surrounds Aazel's prone body, with just the flash of light as eyelids flutter, or the semblance of sound creeping through. All of this happens simultaneously beyond Aazel's awareness and entirely within his realm of being.

Once it reaches Daffafle’s turn, she’ll try making it to the bandit and attacking with her shortswords.

attack: 11 Damage 8
BA attack 15 Damage: 1

The Bandit dashes forward towards Daffafle and seeks to dice her to pieces by striking her with all three attacks...

Attack 1: 18 Damage: 9

Attack 2: 14 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll.

Attack 3: 10 Damage: 9

Many things begin to run through Wulcrath although the most currently pressing if which... Is that his Crossbow is Broken.

"Gah..."

He makes the attempt to clean it mid battle.

Sleight Of Hand - 8  

Bart is going to run at the Bandit who just murdered the newly met Daffafle and lunge at him with a short sword.

attack 18

damage 7

if sneak Attack 3

Daffafle inhales sharply as the bandit strikes the fatal blow. Collapsing to her knees and dropping her weapons, the halfling calls to her newfound friends in a weak voice: “Fi-finish my book. T-tell my parents I—“ She falls to the ground, the light of the living having left her eyes. 

The Bandit takes the accurate blow, her eyes wide with an surprise and anger. Her retaliation is her flurry of swift three attacks to Bart…

Attack 1: 18 Damage: 9

Attack 2: 19 Damage: 9

Attack 3: 18 Damage: 9

Wulcrath watches his final companion fall, and finds he's more desperate than ever to escape the situation.

He draws his sword and bares his Sheild once again, watching a waiting for any attacks the bandit may throw out...

"Wh- why are you doing this?! Why did you have to kill them?!"  "Who is your Master, and what does he want?!"

Wulcrath finds himself unable to keep steady, shakily raising his Sheild in preparation for the inevitable...

The Bandit slowly relaxes and stands casually, "Why am I doing this? You, all this, is such a small thing. Why ask? You'll never see, never understand the grand plan. The seed of black has already been planted, his reach will soon be far and wide..."

In a moment, the hooded figure is between Wulcrath and the Bandit. With a snap of magic, there's a wailing blast of wind and ice that ended horrifically quick, and what remains is a slice of a hundred winters spread forth from the hooded strangers hands, covering the Bandit in a freeze so fast it looks as if she didn't recognise it to happen.

The stranger quickly approaches the crowd despite their cries and whimpers and manages to calm them down. He's quick to lights a few torches he had on his person and gives it to them.

He turns to Wulcrath, his once relaxed face now holds a tense brow and a flat mouth. He talks loudly as he checks the pulse of Khazan, Bart and Aazel, "This makes things... pretty weird. I only came to help hostages from bandits, not... whatever she was rambling on about." He nods to himself before turning grimly to Daffalfe's corpse resting in a dark pool.

He takes off his own simple coat to lay the body on to one side, careful not to disturb the body too much. He then uses a quick gesture and cascade water sudden falls dispersing the unnerving puddle.

He turns back to Wulcrath, "Our main objective now is getting these people back to safety. You're to stay here for the rest of the night and - "

There's a large shattering sound, everyone turns to the source, Bandit's corpse, to see it simply missing. Carved out of the thick ice and snow it was resting in. 

After a moment, the hooded stranger suggests, "Actually, I'll stay. Go get some rest, help them get warmth and food. We'll get moving when the sun rises."

Bart, Khazan and Aazel come around suddenly, a feeling warm spreading through them. They are welcomed by a smiling elf, "Welcome back, brave champions. Pelor is watching over us, still." Her voice airy, her gaze seemingly unfocused, now a crown of wildflowers upon her head. Bart would recognise her as the person that helped him previously. Despite the confusion among the three, she continues to talk, "I wished to grant your viliant comrade a fitting burial, but there's a raven that won't let me near her..." Her soft features turn to that of concern as she looks over to Daffafle's body, and there resting upon it is a very large Raven...

Bart just sort of sits up on his elbows and looks around a little.

”Are we safe yet?”

The Black Wings over Daffafle:

Daffafle awakes suddenly wrapped in a blanket drenched in blood. Upon that is raven that gently caws to her as it meets her eyes…

As he is listening ot the elf, Khazan's attention goes to the cawling raven.
He gets up and angrily stomps his way to the halfling corpse
"Let her rest, ye goddamned vermin! Go feast on someone else!" as he tries to shoo it away

The halfling sits up with a gasp, breathing heavily as she throws the blanket off. The raven caws, fluttering as it is displaced from its perch, then lands on Daffafle’s shoulder. She glances about, eyes wide as she takes in the colored land, the people... As a final check, she runs a hand along the base of her neck, where the bandit struck the fatal blow...a large scar in its place. 
“She actually did it,” the halfling whispered, face switching between a grin and a frown. Suddenly remembering where she was, Daffafle jumps up, “where is she? Where’s that friend-hurting, village-kidnapping bandit woman?”

The combat is indeed over. And you all level up! Hurray!

The civilians are settled and resting; huddled around fires, eating and calming down after an eventful night to say the least!

The Hooded Man is also staying. He keeps vigilant, keeping watch and sitting on the large rock nearby. 

The effects of his spell still linger, and where the Bandit's body was remains etched in the ice.

You're free to look around, talk to the civilians or the Hooded-Man or simply rest if you're a bit tired. :)

Kneels next to the halfling, shocked and surprised

"Yer not dead! The elf told me you were gone but yer here .. but all this blood on ye .."

He says pointing at the coagulated blood on Daffafle's clothes. He turns around, points a finger towards the elf cleric and yells
"YE TOLD US SHE WAS DEAD! WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE DID YA TRY TO PULL ON US?!"

In the heat of the moment, and without waiting for the elf's response, his eyes dart to the crowd villagers, searching for the wanted man
"AND YOU LAD! WHAT KIND O' MAN ASK FER A WEAPON AND STAYS HIDDEN WHILE PEOPLE FIGHT FER THEIR LIVES IN FRONT OF 'EM?! COME OUT COWARD!"

Perception roll: 20