In the city of Neverwinter, a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker asked you to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough and tumble settlement of Phandalin, a couple of days' travel southeast of the city. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found "something big," and that he'd pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen's Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a warrior escort named Sidar Hallwinter, claiming he needed to arrive early to "take care of business."
You've spent the last few days following the High Road south from Neverwinter, and you've just recently veered east along the Triboar Trail. You've encountered no trouble so far, but this territory can be dangerous. Bandits and outlaws have been known to lurk along the trail.
"Salty" Paul Potter cuts an imposing figure as he follows the wagon down the Triboar Trail. Standing at over 6'3", he wears leather armor tailored to draw emphasis to his muscular arms. His chestnut brown hair and beard are flecked with hints of grey. As a younger man, Salty Paul had been quite handsome, though you wouldn't necessarily guess that to see him now. His nose has been broken so many times it is now a crooked mess, one of his ears is cauliflowered, and he has poorly crafted bridge in place of some of his top front teeth. Still, he has a gregarious demeanor and has been eager to ask questions of the group along the road.
Of himself, Salty Paul tells of his years as a prizefighter in the bars and alleys of Neverwinter. He boasts to have once won the Hollyphant Belt three years running, though the exact nature and prestige of that prize would probably not be familiar to anyone else. Around the campfire each evening he grows a bit more subdued and has hinted at some sort of personal tragedy but always changes the subject with a bawdy joke or a story about getting knocked out before he reveals too much. He's also revealed himself as something of an amateur chef and insists on preparing the meals over the cookfire. Most of them are ok; some are actually pretty good.
As you walk down the path, Salty Paul looks to his three companions. "So, what is next for each of you after Phandalin? I think I should head down and see some of the big cities further south... Waterdeep... Baldur's Gate. I'm sure somewhere down there is a fighting cage with a fat bag of prizemoney that's never seen the likes of me."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
"Haven´t planned beyond Phandalin. Need more funds to resume research." The gnome sitting on the cart says absentmindedly while reaching for yet another peculiar tool from one of the seemingly endless amount of pockets in the brown simple working robes he wears under some kind of customized metallic armour. Most of the journey he has been busy with his tinkering, only stopping briefly to scratch his unkempt brown hair, his beard, his rather big nose, or some other place on his scruffy looking little body. His tinkering has met with mixed results you have noticed as there occasionally have been a small explosion or other kind of setback, but that doesn´t seem to bother the tinkering gnome too much. Rather he seems to view it as a natural part of inventing. Mostly he has been working on some strange device resembling a crossbow but heavily modified with an underlying barrel amongst other things.
He hasn´t talked much but he mentioned that his name is Oppleby, Oppleby Farwanderer Fabblestabble, and that he is an old friend of Gundren. When he occasionally has said anything at the campfire he has been very blunt, like when he asked the tieflings if their horns weren´t very impractical or when he suggested Salty Paul should have quit boxing while he still had some front teeth left, but it is clear that he has no ill intent with what he blurts out. Even when he eats Salty Pauls tasty meals he is quick to point out how some other spice might have done the trick but the hints of a tragedy is completely lost on him. "Also there is no point in planning that far ahead as we all could end up dead, eaten by a dragon, or worse, before we even reach Phandalin." He says as-a-matter-of-factly to Salty Paul.
Promise carries herself proudly, with her 210cm height (180cm without the horns) and her shiny armor. She's pale from head to toe, someone called it 'albinism' once, and she takes great care of her appearence. Her favourite feature is her horns that are shaped like a halo. She's aware her resting face seems cold and serious, so she tries her best to start converations when she can. She knows not many will approach her. Even when trying to be sociable, her voice is flat and her expressions hardly change, so most emoting is done through gestures. When talking, Promise's hands fly all around her, mimicking her words and supplimenting what tiny little smile she manages to place on her lips.
Camping in the woods has been rough for her city girl upbringing and she didn't hesitate to make it known. Although the longer they traveled, the less she complained, as she got the hang of it. She listened to everyone's stories carefully and added what experiences she had herself, even if they weren't always as extravagant as others. She always volunteered to do the heavy works, such as cut wood for cooking or move branches and rocks out of the road for the carts to pass.
Promise is at the front as they travel, as she has heard that bandits like to shop from this street. "I would like to continue my travels while also offering my services to anyone in need, so I might accompany you if you visit the cities. I have never been so far away from home, so everything is new territory for me."
Walking up and down and trying to catch a glimpse of what goods or values they are supposed to escort, a tiefling skirts around one of carts. The yellow gaze burns with meticulous curiosity, and the simple tail is drawing patterns of alertness into the air behind her back. Reflections dance on the scale armour enclosing her body, the purple of her skin echoed on the many pieces of metal, merging with deep blue shadows and harsh, glimmering highlights. Her light grey locks are pulled back into a thick braid that gives additional movement to her figure, and a red scrap of ribbon holds it together, being a juxtaposition to the otherwise harmonious colours.
She carefully listens to the others before giving an answer, not rushing the simple conversation. "I won't argue with Oppleby; the optimism might be soon just yet. But if we happen to be alive after Phandalin, I do have my plans, of course. However, powers greater than me might have one that differs."
She speaks quickly, but articulates precisely, in a semi-deep voice. This amount of words might even be surprising to the companions, as she was not talking much so far, the zenith of her openness had been words to her god during her morning prayers which could have been overheard. She had been excusing herself early every night, not taking part in much of the evening conversations; and even when joining in, she had kept to practical issues and reacting to questions.
During the day, she had been counting hours and miles, making plans and giving good - even though sometimes unwanted or harshly phrased - advice about avoiding sunburn or sickness. She has kept an eye on the company, regularly asking for the ones who'd been missing at the moment - though it is hard to tell if she had been doing these to aid or merely out of suspicion.
"Ha ha ha! You two have nothing to worry about," Salty Paul says to Keashirryl and Oppleby. He wraps the knuckles of his left hand on the side of the wagon a few times. "I don't see much in here that would interest bandits. And besides..." he pauses briefly to flex, "... One look at the four of us and they'll move on to easier pickings."
He pauses again, his eyes turned to the rolling hills and forests that stretched on to the horizon. "Nah. This will be a quiet stroll to Phandalin, I think. And from there...." he drifts off, never finishing the thought, or at least not vocalizing it.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
"I´m not sure winning the hollyphant belt is very intimidating around these parts Salty Paul." Oppleby casually comments from the cart. "If anyone do decide to challenge us I would at least have the opportunity to field test this." He holds up the weapon he´s been working on. "Let me introduce...The Fabblestabble Blazooka." He says proudly, bowing slightly to the others.
The wagon is filled with an assortment of mining supplies and food.
After traveling on the Triboar Trail for about half a day, you come around a bend and spot two dead horses sprawled about fifty feet ahead of you, blocking the path. Each has several black feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods press close to the trail here, with a steed embankment and dense thickets on either side.
"Whoa! Hold up the wagon!" Salty Paul looks ahead at the dead horses and at the surrounding forest. He climbs on the side of the wagon to get a slightly better vantage point and looks around, trying to make sense of what's in front of them. Perception 17
"What in the Nine Hells is going on here?" He hops down and walks to the front of the group. "Think I should go see if I can move them out of our way?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Looking at the horses, you see that they have been dead for a time, their saddlebags have been loot, and nearby lies an empty leather map case. After a moment you realize you recognize the horses, they are from your friend Gundren and his escort Sidar. You see no sign of whoever caused this. Or of your friend....
Promise walks closer too, with her hand on her shield and warhammer, and peeks over Salty Paul's shoulder. She tries to figure out if there's any blood left behind, a sign that Gundren and Sidar might be gravely injured. Perception 3
"Do you think mister Rockseeker and mister Sidar could have run away on their own? I have heard that if you play dead, you can crawl away from situations like these, since what they are after is loot and not your life."
Hearing Gundren mentioned Oppleby clambers down from the cart and scurries over to the dead horses. "Oh no Gundren, what happened here." He says with an uncharacteristical amount of emotion. Oppleby then collects himself, produces some trinket resembling a magnifying glass with several moving parts with unknown purpose and starts examining the crime scene. Investigation:8 focusing on the arrows and any trails left behind.
Covered in grim silence after the halt, Keashirryl approaches the horses. She glances around, skimming the surroundings before she continues.
"What happened is that this part of the road is practically a call to action for outlaws." she concludes with a frown. "The treeline is too close to the path and hides an ambush perfectly well." Quickly walking around the scene, she adds, pointing a finger towards the empty case on the ground: "Though I have never heard of bandits who have taken an interest in maps, particularly."
Her glance falls on the ground and she starts to search for any sign of Gundren or his companion leaving the area - willingly or not. Investigation: 17
As you all walk closer to take a closer look, two arrows come shooting out of the woods.
Attack at Oppleby: 12 Damage: 1
Attack at Paul: 5 Damage: 5
You see two goblin archers standing up from behind a bush. Hearing screams, you glance to the side and see another pair of them with shortswords rushing out towards you.
Lets roll initiative:
Goblins: 12
Paul: 9
Keashirryl: 18
Promise: 4
Oppleby: 3
Initiative: (If you are bolded feel free to post your actions)
Salty Paul is startled by an arrow whiz past uncomfortably close. Oh no! We are under bandit attack! But before he has time to panic, he sees what appear to be two ugly green children charge out of the bushes toward his companions wielding short swords.
"Oh no you don't!" Paul moves to intercept the two sword-wielding goblins. Assuming he can reach them on this turn, Salty Paul will attempt to grapple the first one he can reach. Special Attack 12
"Not so fast, pipsqueak!"
(Flavor dialogue if unsuccessful) "Bah! Slippery little devil!"
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Promise flinches from the sudden screams, but gathers herself quickly and readies her attack. She doesn't feel threatened by the goblins, since they seem to be in equal numbers to her party, so she leaves her shield mounted on her back and grabs her warhammer with both hands. She attempts to hit a homerun using the other charging goblin as a ball. She doesn't want to hammer Paul on the face by accident.
Attack: 14 Damage: 5
(ooc: Hope I'm rolling correctly, not used to the dice yet)
Oppleby suddenly hears the woosh of two arrows and feels a sting of pain to his back. Seeing Salty Paul and Promise facing the charging goblins he swirls around, grabs the Blazooka by his side and fires a mote of fire at one of the bow wielding goblins. Fire bolt:20 Damage:6 possibly setting the goblin on fire He then scurries away behind the cart for full cover against the bow wielding goblins shouting. "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH GUNDREN YOU MISERABLE DUNGRATS?"
In the city of Neverwinter, a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker asked you to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough and tumble settlement of Phandalin, a couple of days' travel southeast of the city. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found "something big," and that he'd pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen's Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a warrior escort named Sidar Hallwinter, claiming he needed to arrive early to "take care of business."
You've spent the last few days following the High Road south from Neverwinter, and you've just recently veered east along the Triboar Trail. You've encountered no trouble so far, but this territory can be dangerous. Bandits and outlaws have been known to lurk along the trail.
Introduce yourselves
"Salty" Paul Potter cuts an imposing figure as he follows the wagon down the Triboar Trail. Standing at over 6'3", he wears leather armor tailored to draw emphasis to his muscular arms. His chestnut brown hair and beard are flecked with hints of grey. As a younger man, Salty Paul had been quite handsome, though you wouldn't necessarily guess that to see him now. His nose has been broken so many times it is now a crooked mess, one of his ears is cauliflowered, and he has poorly crafted bridge in place of some of his top front teeth. Still, he has a gregarious demeanor and has been eager to ask questions of the group along the road.
Of himself, Salty Paul tells of his years as a prizefighter in the bars and alleys of Neverwinter. He boasts to have once won the Hollyphant Belt three years running, though the exact nature and prestige of that prize would probably not be familiar to anyone else. Around the campfire each evening he grows a bit more subdued and has hinted at some sort of personal tragedy but always changes the subject with a bawdy joke or a story about getting knocked out before he reveals too much. He's also revealed himself as something of an amateur chef and insists on preparing the meals over the cookfire. Most of them are ok; some are actually pretty good.
As you walk down the path, Salty Paul looks to his three companions. "So, what is next for each of you after Phandalin? I think I should head down and see some of the big cities further south... Waterdeep... Baldur's Gate. I'm sure somewhere down there is a fighting cage with a fat bag of prizemoney that's never seen the likes of me."
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
"Haven´t planned beyond Phandalin. Need more funds to resume research." The gnome sitting on the cart says absentmindedly while reaching for yet another peculiar tool from one of the seemingly endless amount of pockets in the brown simple working robes he wears under some kind of customized metallic armour. Most of the journey he has been busy with his tinkering, only stopping briefly to scratch his unkempt brown hair, his beard, his rather big nose, or some other place on his scruffy looking little body. His tinkering has met with mixed results you have noticed as there occasionally have been a small explosion or other kind of setback, but that doesn´t seem to bother the tinkering gnome too much. Rather he seems to view it as a natural part of inventing. Mostly he has been working on some strange device resembling a crossbow but heavily modified with an underlying barrel amongst other things.
He hasn´t talked much but he mentioned that his name is Oppleby, Oppleby Farwanderer Fabblestabble, and that he is an old friend of Gundren. When he occasionally has said anything at the campfire he has been very blunt, like when he asked the tieflings if their horns weren´t very impractical or when he suggested Salty Paul should have quit boxing while he still had some front teeth left, but it is clear that he has no ill intent with what he blurts out. Even when he eats Salty Pauls tasty meals he is quick to point out how some other spice might have done the trick but the hints of a tragedy is completely lost on him. "Also there is no point in planning that far ahead as we all could end up dead, eaten by a dragon, or worse, before we even reach Phandalin." He says as-a-matter-of-factly to Salty Paul.
Promise carries herself proudly, with her 210cm height (180cm without the horns) and her shiny armor. She's pale from head to toe, someone called it 'albinism' once, and she takes great care of her appearence. Her favourite feature is her horns that are shaped like a halo. She's aware her resting face seems cold and serious, so she tries her best to start converations when she can. She knows not many will approach her. Even when trying to be sociable, her voice is flat and her expressions hardly change, so most emoting is done through gestures. When talking, Promise's hands fly all around her, mimicking her words and supplimenting what tiny little smile she manages to place on her lips.
Camping in the woods has been rough for her city girl upbringing and she didn't hesitate to make it known. Although the longer they traveled, the less she complained, as she got the hang of it. She listened to everyone's stories carefully and added what experiences she had herself, even if they weren't always as extravagant as others. She always volunteered to do the heavy works, such as cut wood for cooking or move branches and rocks out of the road for the carts to pass.
Promise is at the front as they travel, as she has heard that bandits like to shop from this street.
"I would like to continue my travels while also offering my services to anyone in need, so I might accompany you if you visit the cities. I have never been so far away from home, so everything is new territory for me."
Walking up and down and trying to catch a glimpse of what goods or values they are supposed to escort, a tiefling skirts around one of carts. The yellow gaze burns with meticulous curiosity, and the simple tail is drawing patterns of alertness into the air behind her back. Reflections dance on the scale armour enclosing her body, the purple of her skin echoed on the many pieces of metal, merging with deep blue shadows and harsh, glimmering highlights. Her light grey locks are pulled back into a thick braid that gives additional movement to her figure, and a red scrap of ribbon holds it together, being a juxtaposition to the otherwise harmonious colours.
She carefully listens to the others before giving an answer, not rushing the simple conversation.
"I won't argue with Oppleby; the optimism might be soon just yet. But if we happen to be alive after Phandalin, I do have my plans, of course. However, powers greater than me might have one that differs."
She speaks quickly, but articulates precisely, in a semi-deep voice. This amount of words might even be surprising to the companions, as she was not talking much so far, the zenith of her openness had been words to her god during her morning prayers which could have been overheard. She had been excusing herself early every night, not taking part in much of the evening conversations; and even when joining in, she had kept to practical issues and reacting to questions.
During the day, she had been counting hours and miles, making plans and giving good - even though sometimes unwanted or harshly phrased - advice about avoiding sunburn or sickness. She has kept an eye on the company, regularly asking for the ones who'd been missing at the moment - though it is hard to tell if she had been doing these to aid or merely out of suspicion.
"Ha ha ha! You two have nothing to worry about," Salty Paul says to Keashirryl and Oppleby. He wraps the knuckles of his left hand on the side of the wagon a few times. "I don't see much in here that would interest bandits. And besides..." he pauses briefly to flex, "... One look at the four of us and they'll move on to easier pickings."
He pauses again, his eyes turned to the rolling hills and forests that stretched on to the horizon. "Nah. This will be a quiet stroll to Phandalin, I think. And from there...." he drifts off, never finishing the thought, or at least not vocalizing it.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
"I´m not sure winning the hollyphant belt is very intimidating around these parts Salty Paul." Oppleby casually comments from the cart. "If anyone do decide to challenge us I would at least have the opportunity to field test this." He holds up the weapon he´s been working on. "Let me introduce...The Fabblestabble Blazooka." He says proudly, bowing slightly to the others.
The wagon is filled with an assortment of mining supplies and food.
After traveling on the Triboar Trail for about half a day, you come around a bend and spot two dead horses sprawled about fifty feet ahead of you, blocking the path. Each has several black feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods press close to the trail here, with a steed embankment and dense thickets on either side.
"Whoa! Hold up the wagon!" Salty Paul looks ahead at the dead horses and at the surrounding forest. He climbs on the side of the wagon to get a slightly better vantage point and looks around, trying to make sense of what's in front of them. Perception 17
"What in the Nine Hells is going on here?" He hops down and walks to the front of the group. "Think I should go see if I can move them out of our way?"
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Looking at the horses, you see that they have been dead for a time, their saddlebags have been loot, and nearby lies an empty leather map case. After a moment you realize you recognize the horses, they are from your friend Gundren and his escort Sidar. You see no sign of whoever caused this. Or of your friend....
Promise walks closer too, with her hand on her shield and warhammer, and peeks over Salty Paul's shoulder. She tries to figure out if there's any blood left behind, a sign that Gundren and Sidar might be gravely injured. Perception 3
"Do you think mister Rockseeker and mister Sidar could have run away on their own? I have heard that if you play dead, you can crawl away from situations like these, since what they are after is loot and not your life."
Hearing Gundren mentioned Oppleby clambers down from the cart and scurries over to the dead horses. "Oh no Gundren, what happened here." He says with an uncharacteristical amount of emotion. Oppleby then collects himself, produces some trinket resembling a magnifying glass with several moving parts with unknown purpose and starts examining the crime scene. Investigation:8 focusing on the arrows and any trails left behind.
Covered in grim silence after the halt, Keashirryl approaches the horses. She glances around, skimming the surroundings before she continues.
"What happened is that this part of the road is practically a call to action for outlaws." she concludes with a frown. "The treeline is too close to the path and hides an ambush perfectly well." Quickly walking around the scene, she adds, pointing a finger towards the empty case on the ground: "Though I have never heard of bandits who have taken an interest in maps, particularly."
Her glance falls on the ground and she starts to search for any sign of Gundren or his companion leaving the area - willingly or not. Investigation: 17
As you all walk closer to take a closer look, two arrows come shooting out of the woods.
Attack at Oppleby: 12 Damage: 1
Attack at Paul: 5 Damage: 5
You see two goblin archers standing up from behind a bush. Hearing screams, you glance to the side and see another pair of them with shortswords rushing out towards you.
Lets roll initiative:
Goblins: 12
Paul: 9
Keashirryl: 18
Promise: 4
Oppleby: 3
Initiative: (If you are bolded feel free to post your actions)
Paul, Oppleby, Promise, Goblins, Keashirryl
Salty Paul is startled by an arrow whiz past uncomfortably close. Oh no! We are under bandit attack! But before he has time to panic, he sees what appear to be two ugly green children charge out of the bushes toward his companions wielding short swords.
"Oh no you don't!" Paul moves to intercept the two sword-wielding goblins. Assuming he can reach them on this turn, Salty Paul will attempt to grapple the first one he can reach. Special Attack 12
"Not so fast, pipsqueak!"
(Flavor dialogue if unsuccessful) "Bah! Slippery little devil!"PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * [Sound of Cork Popping] - Kenku - Lvl 3 Lore Bard - Everasil
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Acrobatics 10
The goblin doesn't expect you to grab him and lets out a loud, "EEK!"
Promise flinches from the sudden screams, but gathers herself quickly and readies her attack. She doesn't feel threatened by the goblins, since they seem to be in equal numbers to her party, so she leaves her shield mounted on her back and grabs her warhammer with both hands. She attempts to hit a homerun using the other charging goblin as a ball. She doesn't want to hammer Paul on the face by accident.
Attack: 14 Damage: 5
(ooc: Hope I'm rolling correctly, not used to the dice yet)
(Looks right.) Your hammer nails the goblin in the face and it stumbles back. As the creature clutches it's face, it screeches at you in goblin.
Paul, Oppleby, Promise, Goblins, Keashirryl
Oppleby suddenly hears the woosh of two arrows and feels a sting of pain to his back. Seeing Salty Paul and Promise facing the charging goblins he swirls around, grabs the Blazooka by his side and fires a mote of fire at one of the bow wielding goblins.
Fire bolt:20 Damage:6 possibly setting the goblin on fire
He then scurries away behind the cart for full cover against the bow wielding goblins shouting. "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH GUNDREN YOU MISERABLE DUNGRATS?"
The goblin jumps back and pats itself down after your bolt hits it.
The first archer shoots at Promise, 11 for 5 damage
The second archer shoots at Keashirryl, 11 for 4 damage.
The one that Promise hit swings at her, 10 for 3
The goblin Paul grabbed tries to escape, acrobatics 22
Everyone is up