Sasha: You heave the offending fish back towards your giggling attacker, who lets out a surprise squeak and dives off the table to avoid the pickled projectile ( that’s right, I said pickled – eww!).
Poot: Defers action until after Gerund.
Gerund: With the Halfling’s tune spurring you on you sprint forward and behead the goblin as it picks itself up from its dive off the table.
Poot: Inspires courage; jogs after Gerund.
Goblin3: This dazed critter manages to partially fall in to the giant chowed pot as it thrashes around in a daze.
Yola: Slowing down just long enough to retrieve the dead goblin’s dogslicer, you charge into the dazed goblin slashing around in the Hagfish’s stew pot and disembowel him – The Hagfish will definitely not be winning the prize for tastiest dish this year.
Seoni: Satisfied that there are no more immediate threats nearby, you look around to size up the situation.
All: The fair grounds have emptied of towns folk but you can still hear screams and sounds of fighting from every direction. Things are still quite chaotic.
Take a few moments to introduce yourself to the others who helped you defeat this band of goblins. Gather any equipment you choose, and decide what you should do next.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
Poot stands wide-eyed amongst the others trying to hide his excitement about being surrounded by real live heros.
"Well you lot seem to know how to handle yerselves."
Poot places Gerund's pot over his head and picks up the nearest discarded Gobby weapon (dogslicer, etc.)
"But let us not delay -- the sounds of battle still ring in my ears!" Poot slaps his "helmet" with the flat of his blade creating a very real "ringing of battle" in his ears and causing the pot to slip down over his eyes. Not letting this stop him he charges off in a random direction (hopefully towards fame and glory.)
Wiping her hands on her trousers and shealthing the dogslicer from the goblin, Yola turns around and looks at everyone.
Hmm a paladin, a halfling, a thief and a sorceress, well what do you know we've got a little band of fighters, wonder how Uncle Sheriff will like this one.
Yola steps up and introduces herself, i'm Yola, some call me the Wild as well I'm a shoanti from the moon clan.
Mich
on second thought Yola throws the dogslicer away - it's a piece of junk and not worth much.
mich
I'm Seoni.
It sounds like the villagers still need help. Shall we?
"I am Gerund, of Windsong Abbey. I too believe this fight is far from over. There are five of us and many villagers in distress. Perhaps we should pick a direction, then return here when the crisis has passed," he said, hurriedly, then dashed off towards the towards the distressed.
Racing toward the table Sasha stops when the goblin’s head comes rolling toward her feet.
Turning around she sees the “blacksmith” with his blade stained with goblin blood. Nudging the head she smirks and gives her “avenger” a salute similar to the one he made earlier on.
As introductions are made she listens intently. Spying the Halfling in an odd assortment of ‘armor’ she winks at him playfully.
“It’s nice to meet all of you. My friends call me Sasha. You’re more than welcome to do the same. Seoni’s right: If there’s any chance of salvaging this night we need to deal with these little snots quickly.”
As Gerund runs off into the crowd Sasha wipes her rapier off in the grass.
“He’s either a really ‘good’ blacksmith or a really ‘poor’ paladin. Either way your both right and we should probably give him a hand. I’m sure he can handle the goblins one-on-one. Then again the little snots are fast and from the sounds of those screams we have no idea how many of them are scattered throughout town. Even a ‘good’ paladin can’t be everywhere at once.”
Sasha inspects her rapier pleased with the cleaning.
“If no one objects I’d be glad to tag along. The more the merrier.”
"Onward brave --" Poot pauses to wave his merry band on but quickly realizes (peaking out from under the brim of his pothelmet,) that they are all still behind him in the clearing introducing themselves. What's worse they now seem to be following the lead of the paladin Gerund in the opposite direction.
"Wait! Wait for me!"
Poot sheathes his dogslicer and reshifting the weight of his kitchen-armor, tears off after them.
"Don't do anything heroic 'till I get there."
Post a Comment