The Unseen Servant forums

Iago Vazquez de Quesada

The swarthy Zingaran falls into a deep crouch at Cruloc's left flank and his lips curl into a silent snarl. His drawn sword and dagger are kept carefully in shadow to avoid the gleam of moonbeams or reflected light from the ground.

He flicks his eyes from side to side, his body otherwise motionless and every sense straining to detect the approach of stealthy feet.

Amethu remains still and makes no sound. They have no reason to think they have been discovered.... Patience.

Dahinna

The Zamoran rogue moves off the trail, hiding in the shadows to Cruloc's right. Her sword is drawn and pressed against her thigh as she waits, straining eyes and ears, watching for the murderous Picts.

Zahra
Zahra holds her place for the moment, watching for any movement. She keeps a careful ear on what is happening behind her.

Kiri feels no need to prove himself fighting Picts in the darkness, yet he will not run unless the group does so together. He backs into the foliage and crouches, waiting to see how things transpire.

Cruloc

"The pursuer, no doubt," Cruloc mutters to himself in answer to his earlier question.

"Propitiate to your gods then," he half-snarls. "But weave your artifices quietly."

His grim figure sinks back into the forest gloom.

The Pictish Wilderness, the World of Hyboria
Day Two. Night. 12th day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Partly cloudy, cool







In the terrible silence that follows the harrowing sounds of death from the river, brutal imaginings of the Tauran scouts' dire fate are conjured unbidden.

The adventurers wait breathlessly in the dark for what comes next.



Their minds race. The Picts have just murdered Flavius and Julius. They wrack their brains wondering was there any sign in the longboat that more than two set out in it? Would the Picts believe that two were all? Or would they search? And if they search, would they find their footprints on the pebbly shore?

Grigor ends the suspense. The gypsy priest produces light and chants prayers of protection, calling the savages down upon them.

The others make ready for a battle lit only by Grigor's enchanted scimitar.

They don't wait long.

Suddenly, arrows fly from out of the darkness on both flanks, east and west! Two shafts pierce Grigor, despite his holy wards! (4hp damage)



And for the first time they wonder whether the Picts scalp their enemies while alive or dead.


Actions?! (Cruloc gets two actions this round, the first preempts all others)


Map:

The river is toward the bottom of the map.

Behind the DM Screen:




PC Status:
PC Magic:
Player Resources:

Zahra
Zahra shouts her snarling battlecry. Come fight me, cowards! Despite the salt in her challenge, she stays low to keep from catching an arrow. She uses Grigor's light to watch the west flank, looking for Picts.

Dahinna

Dahinna flinches as specks of Grigor's blood strike her in the face. Her knuckles are white, her wrist aching from gripping the hilt of her sword. Zahra's sudden shout causes her to flinch again...an abrupt "Eek!" escapes her before she can close her hand over her mouth. Cursing herself, she slowly turns her head looking in the direction from whence the arrow came on her side of the trail.

Grigor

It seems he was struck from either flank. So to lessen his silhouette he moves slightly to put his back against a tree trunk and gain some cover from one of the archers. He salutes the archer he faces with his scimitar and signals him to come take his scalp. He begins a rendition of some Steppe chant, a call to arms and brotherhood in battle. He tries to inspire courage and bloodlust in his comrades as he casts his 'Bless' spell.

Amethu also remains still behind as much cover as he can get - he knows they are easy targets if they enter the glow of the sword...

He considers setting one of the their flanks on fire but that may draw even more attention to them then they already have...

Cruloc

The beatings and head trauma Cruloc suffered as a boy made him less intelligent, but also tougher, uncommonly churlish, and superlatively devious. His penchant for killing in artful and increasingly gruesome ways earned him coin in the arena in Ophir and infamy in the bowels of Zargoth's hell. Now the Picts would fall to his sword.

With alacrity and cruel calculation, he covers a nearby bush with a large empty sack, deceptively conferring on it the shape and size of a crouched man. The muscled killer then skulks a few paces away and melts into the darkness, where he lies in wait for a gulled Pict to come and assassinate the humbly attired shrubbery.

Kiri lies low in the darkness, aware that the picts could also be before and behind them. He dips his fingers into his component pouch while keeping an eye out for any that might reveal themselves in the scimitar's light.

Iago Vazquez de Quesada

Unwilling to chance giving away his position, Iago remains perfectly still. He clutches his weapons and remains coiled like a spring ready to burst into action if a target presents itself. He slows his breathing to avoid undue noise and softens his focus to better detect movement in the spectral gloom.

The Pictish Wilderness, the World of Hyboria
Day Two. Night. 12th day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Partly cloudy, cool







Far from the world of civilized men, predators silently stalk their prey.

Before he can act, the sacrificial goat attracts another flight of merciless arrows from out of the pitch blackness! (9hp damage!)



After shafts sail from the west, the impaled, bleeding gypsy staggers to the eastern side of a tree trunk!

It seems in all the world only Grigor is illuminated.

To the unrelenting sound of distant drums, the adventurers wait for a charge that doesn't come! If the Picts grasp the common tongue of the Hyborian kingdoms, they do not rise to Zahra's taunt. Nor do they accept Grigor's silent invitation. The grim words of Decius ring in the adventurers' minds:

"They'll strike from ambush. Arrows, for as long as they can manage. Then ax and knife."

Cruloc crafts an effigy to serve as further bait to lure them.

Just beyond the eerie luminosity of Grigor's curving blade, an abyss of darkness reigns whence comes mysterious rustlings, stealthy footfalls, and the gleam of murderous eyes that reflect the glow of the gypsy's scimitar!

The adventurers spot those eyes, and deeper shadows within the shadow! Amethu, Cruloc, Iago and Kiri see one archer's silhouette to the west (P3) silently nocking a fresh arrow to replace the one sunk deep in Grigor's side! And Dahinna, Grigor and Zahra spy the shape of another savage on their eastern flank (P7) pulling back on his bow until arrow feathers graze his fierce visage!


Actions?!


Map:

The river is toward the bottom of the map.

Behind the DM Screen:



PC Status:
PC Magic:
Player Resources:

Cruloc

"HRRRAAAAH! With me!"

Cruloc charges from the bushes at the Pict in the west.
Charging attack w/ longsword [1d20+5]=2+5=7

Grigor

Expecting to receive a volley of arrows from one archer, his expectations are met with painful accuracy. He staggers under the impact causing him to think of another storybook hero caught in such a pincushion situation. Though the gypsy has no 'horn of Gondor' to blow.

Resilient though, the warrior-priest stands his ground and places the horseshoe he holds to his lips, kissing it and raising it to the heavens as he invokes divine aid to staunch his wounds.

Grigor invokes Cure Light Wounds [1d8]=6

Amethu senses doom around him in the darkness. With no means of attack that would turn the tide of battle, he seeks to add to their defenses.

He murmurs a prayer as quietly as possible to lend divine aide to the warrior dodging arrows.

CLW on Grigor Cure Light Wounds [1d8]=8

Iago Vazquez de Quesada

Iago springs into action with the burly Cimmerian, charging toward the Pictish archer and stabbing at the gloom-cloaked figure with sword and dagger.

[1d20+3]=11+3=14, [1d8]=8, [1d20+2]=4+2=6, [1d4]=3

Zahra
Zahra joins the charge, snarling and ululating. att [1d20+4]=2+4=6
She will take a step back after, looking for other threats.