Chapter 2: High Road to Krusk

Perception +3

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd20' : 11

[Perception check passes. - DM]

Ezythyr, you look a little closer at the scene. The three human bodies appear to still be wearing their robes, purple and dotted with small, white, star-like shapes and notably still intact. Judging by the spilled contents of their packs next to them--books, small potion bottles, scrolls, other paraphernalia--they were likely scholars of the arcane arts, traveling back to their mage guild before being attacked.

The gerblin is green-skinned and male, and himself must be a shaman or of another skillcraft involving magic; as you continue to watch him, he seems to know what to add to his large loot bag and what to toss away. So far, he's gathered most of the potions, small pouches of ingredients, some scrolls, stuffing them into the bag. Everything else he throws aside. He's muttering to himself, and moving quickly, and as he reaches back and forth between the bodies and his bag, you note several burns and cuts over his arms and neck. Even a small patch of hair on the back of the gerblin's head appears to have been singed off by a fire or chemical burn. And unless you are mistaken--which you are not--one of the gerblin's ears is missing, with a small drip of blood pulsing out of the stump down the side of his face.

Of note, to the left of the frantic gerblin and the three dead men is the torch, now laying on the floor next to four wooden staves. Two of them appear are blackened and scorched. The other two are quarter-length and appear to still be useable: one is pristine with a gnarled, ruby-embedded headpiece, the other a simple, plain oaken staff.

Ezythyr turns to Thokk, holding up one finger, and points to his own staff. He then points to himself, nods his head toward the interior, and lifts his axe slightly. He points to Thokk and gestures toward the Worg.

Thokk nods in understanding and heads back to the Worg, glancing back every so often at Ezythyr.

"Cordial, can I get a word with you?"

Once Thokk is next to the worg, Ezythyr starts to sneak up on the gerblin. Prepared to fail, he readies a spell in his mind.

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OOC: Gonna try and sneak up and attack with green flame blade, but if he spots me, I'll attack with magic missile from a distance. Is that legal?

Stealth +3

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd20' : 10

Cordial responded eagerly to Thokk, "Of course. Please, how can I help?"

Eledriar, Thokk, and Cordial, the worg sees you standing together, and begins a low growl again. It takes a few steps backward, and stumbles a bit. It's almost as though it knows that something is about to happen, but is uncertain if it will be the same unusual kindness you attempted previously, or something much more hostile. It looks directly at Cordial and speaks again.

"Mmm... maach gharaar or mor gharaar?"

You all indirectly understand what's being said at this point... "help master or hurt master?"

Ezythyr raises his axe while he silently steps toward the gerblin. Once he's in range, he quickly brings the blade down, aiming between the shoulder blades.

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OOC: +5 attack. I'm going to roll 2 just in case I have advantage, otherwise I'll take the first one.

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd20' : 6, 18

1d8 +3 slashing damage.

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd8' : 6

[Oh, mama, Ezythyr manages a sneak attack on the gerblin shaman, doing 9 slashing damage. - DM]

The gerblin shaman looks up at the last second to see your battleaxe dig into his left neck, cutting deeply and scraping internally against the shoulder blade. The downward force of the strike pushes the gerblin fully prone, his body pressed between his loot bag and one of the corpses. He screams in agony, quite loudly, and the sound easily echoes out of the cave and is likely easily heard by anyone within a mile's range.

He turns his head to the side, attempting a side look at his attacker, and sees you, Ezythyr, battleaxe in hand and a breath away from a deathstrike. He grunts, coughing up blood, then speaks. Not in Gerblinese, but in Common.

"Do with me what you will... but please avenge me and these poor men. And forgive poor Dhakec, she didn't know what she was doing."

"Damn! Cordial! He needs healin'!" Cursing at himself for his snap judgement, Ezythyr tries desperately to patch up the wounded creature.

"What ye doin'? Finish it!"

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OOC: Dammit! I'm going to try using Medicine to staunch the wound. I'm trained and have +5.

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd20' : 1

[A Medicine / Wisdom check of 6 is not quite enough to save him, since his HP is at 1, but it's enough to get a few more deets out of him. - DM]

You grab some of the loose parchment and fold it up into a makeshift dressing, pressing firmly against his clavicle wound. His face, still turned in your direction, grimaces slightly but quickly transitions into a look of confusion. He continues to speak, but your knowledge of life and death reminds you that he will pass soon.

"They were taking me to the Cloaktower... to train in better magicks... but we were attacked, and Dhakec was poisoned from afar... she went wild, attacked their horses, sent them flying... was kinda funny..."

He coughed up more blood, then pointed at the men and continued his story. "While she ate horsemeats, I pulled them in this cave with me to hide... got bored and started looting... men with caved-in skulls, they didn't need this stuff where they were going... Where I'm going too, I think..."

The gerblin's eyes blink for one last time, and with one last breath, he pleads to you.

"Help her avenge us."

Eledriar, Thokk, and Cordial, you all hear the scream from the cave. Which means the worg hears it too. Her low growl stops, and she looks towards the cave. After a moment, you see her head lift toward the sky, and she howls loudly, sadly. You three watch, and from your position, you see a small arrow shaft poking out of her neck, the source of the worg's injury, no doubt.

She then looks towards the three of you again, and slowly steps towards Thokk. The worg's tone is decidedly more vicious...

"AGAAN O DAAN MOKAAR?!?!" she growls.

Cordial, you hear the inquiry more clearly: "are you the hunter?!?!"

"Well, never mind, now." Thokk grans the hilt of his sword but does not draw yet.

The worg sees where your hand goes, Thokk, and is appearing even more anxious and aggressive, growling and tensing its front legs... One might be compelled to believe it's getting ready to throw down...

[Thokk, please roll a Charisma check.  - DM]

(+2 charisma, unless this is considered a saving throw, in which case it's +

The member 'Mikegld561' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd20' : 15