The Coast Way

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Sep 12, 2021 2:48 am
Wishing to retreat from the hobgoblin, but not willing to expose herself to its attacks any more than necessary, Stella—still a living constellation—stays next to Dieter and tries and misses another shot. She wasn't exactly sure what these arrows were made of, but they certainly weren't easy to use...but they were easy to draw.

She draws her bowstring a few times, layering arrow upon arrow, then fires, the arrows exploding around their foe in a spray of stardust.

(Sacred Flame. Hobgoblin must make a DC 13 DEX save or take 6 radiant damage. If Aiwë has Magical Inspiration, and the hobgoblin fails, it takes an extra 1d6)

HP 8/13
AC 13
Next to Dieter and hobgoblin
Last edited September 12, 2021 5:16 am

Rolls

Sacred Flame Damage vs Hobgoblin - (1d8)

(6) = 6

Starry Form Archer Attack (Dis) - (1d20+5, 1d20+5)

1d20+5 : (1) + 5 = 6

1d20+5 : (7) + 5 = 12

Sep 12, 2021 2:50 am
HP 28/28
AC: 14
By the Archers (which would make a great curse, really)


Wirrow feels more alive than she ever has. The whirl of death and blood on the battlefield, the fear of the enemy and their inability to hit her. She gives a bloody smile, and none of it is her own. Almost casually with how easy it looks, Wirrow rams a shortsword through the heart of one of the fearful archers as she recoalesces into flesh. Just as decisively, she then rips it back out, turning away to set her sights on the hobgoblin closest to her friends.

If these were the ones who took Sheemish... yes, she was on the right track to helping Stella not cry. One step closer at a time.

(Double shortsword versus Archer 2. Archer 2 takes 16 damage and dies.)
Last edited September 12, 2021 3:03 am

Rolls

Shortsword A - (1d20+5)

(20) + 5 = 25

Shortsword B (oofhand) - (1d20+5)

(10) + 5 = 15

Shortsword A damage - (1d6+9)

(1) + 9 = 10

Shortsword A Bardic Inspiration damage - (1d6)

(6) = 6

Sep 12, 2021 5:01 am
Dieter grunts in pain and spits a bit of blood into the hobgoblin’s face. Suddenly a flash of steel heralds a new grim blade. It’s serpentine edge dancing in the firelight he raises it high before bringing it down only to bite deeply into the goblin’s shield
Last edited September 12, 2021 5:04 am

Rolls

Atttaaaaaaack hobgoblin 2 - (1D20+5, 2D6+3)

1D20+5 : (8) + 5 = 13

2D6+3 : (35) + 3 = 11

Sep 15, 2021 1:03 am
"Imoen!" Aiwë gasps with relief. Exhausted as she is, her swing at the hobgoblin in front of her bites only armour. "Did you see us leave? We were in such a hurry!" She does her best to hide just how close to collapsing she is.

HP: 1/18
AC: 16
Last edited September 15, 2021 2:55 pm

Rolls

Attack hobgoblin 2 - (1d20+5)

(8) + 5 = 13

Sep 20, 2021 3:59 pm
With one hobgoblin on either side, Wirrow fights them each off simultaneously. Still, for all her speed and cunning, the ranger faces two skilled soldiers. One feints forward, drawing her attention just before the other launches a brutal attack (Wirrow takes 13 slashing dmg). But before they can press the advantage, one of the hobgoblins takes an arrow to the throat as Imoen appears. With only one opponent now to occupy her attention, Wirrow eagerly savages it.

The remaining hobgoblin pumps its legs and charges at Dieter, longsword sweeping for his head. The young warrior blocks with his own serpentine greatsword, then slams that weapon into the hobgoblin's shield, jarring it momentarily. Aiwe's attack nearly gets through the lone goblinoid soldier's armor, and a stream of curses fly from the hobgoblin's mouth. Beset upon as it is, it has no defense against the burning radiance of Stella's starfall of arrows.

The hobgoblin, badly wounded and aware of the five enemies surrounding it, pulls a hunting knife from its belt and slashes its own throat. It falls with a gurgle.

Rolls

Hgob2 vs Dieter - (1d20+3)

(10) + 3 = 13

Arch1 vs Wirrow - (1d20+3)

(7) + 3 = 10

Arch2 vs Wirrow - (1d20+3)

(15) + 3 = 18

Dmg to Wirrow (longsword, martial advantage) - (1d8+1, 2d6)

1d8+1 : (1) + 1 = 2

2d6 : (65) = 11

Hgob2 dex save vs sacred flame - (1d20+1)

(8) + 1 = 9

extra dmg to Hgob - (1d6)

(3) = 3

Sep 20, 2021 4:20 pm
Imoen swings her bow over her shoulder and trots up. "I mighta seen you leave. Or I mighta just asked ol' Bentley why all my friends were just disappeared. But for sure I saw Stella's light show up in the sky! Led me right to you. And good thing, too!"

The young girl wrinkles her nose and kicks at the nearby body of the last hobgoblin, making sure it's dead. It's not, quite. "Okay, ew. Is anybody going to put that thing out of its misery?"
Sep 21, 2021 4:37 am
Aiwë frowns. "Light show?" She hadn't thought of how visible Stella's magic would be. She didn't even know Stella could do things like that when they left. "We have to hurry. Who else has seen the lights?" Her sword comes down over the neck of the hobgoblin.

"Let's go."
Sep 21, 2021 3:48 pm
Stella's blue, starry countenance dissipates into dust, leaving just a normal girl behind. As it vanishes, she inhales with a gasp. "I—" she nervously looks up at where she accidentally shot her arrows. She wasn't sure what kind of power had come over her, but she clearly didn't quite know how to use it.

Before her thoughts can berate her any further, and heedless of her own wounds, Stella notices her companions' wounds and rushes to Aiwë with a slight limp.

She draws out a bandage and bundle of herbs. "We have to move, but first...this'll hurt..." she warns, parting the wound at her collarbone to quickly wipe away blood and apply a salve and bandages. (Healer. Aiwë regains 12 HP)

There wasn't much more she could do for Dieter at the moment—so Stella moved on to Wirrow. She steps back with wide eyes, startled as she realizes the girl's mouth was dripping with blood. She bites her lip and steps forward with a dwindling supply of herbs and bandages. "Here..." (Healer. Wirrow regains 8 HP)

8/17 HP
Last edited September 21, 2021 3:54 pm

Rolls

Healing Aiwë, Wirrow - (1d6+7, 1d6+7)

1d6+7 : (5) + 7 = 12

1d6+7 : (1) + 7 = 8

Sep 21, 2021 7:55 pm
Wirrow's smile dims a bit at the new arrival, but she still seems fairly pleased with herself. When Stella reacts with shock at the blood on her face, she does her best to wipe it off, gathering much of it into a boiling red orb that glows faintly. A tendril reaches out from it and flickers across Stella's leg where she was hurt, and the pain lessens, however unnervingly it may be. (Pacify. Stella regains 6 HP)

Checking everything one last time, Wirrow follows Aiwe's order to move out alongside Stella. "We did good, right?" The whispered question to her best friend is rhetorical, mixed with lingering excitement from battle. She, and Stella especially, had both had wonderful displays of magic. Wirrow either didn't notice or doesn't care that Stella never landed a single one of her heavenly arrows.
Last edited September 21, 2021 8:06 pm

Rolls

Pacify - (1d10+2)

(4) + 2 = 6

Sep 22, 2021 1:41 am
Imoen rolls her shoulders in a casual shrug. "I dunno who mighta seen it. Probably anyone looking out the north or east windows of the Inn." She blinks, then her eyes widen and her hand rises to her mouth. "Oh, right! Assassins..."

The girl hugs her arms around herself, though the night is hardly cold. "Where's Sheemish, anyway?"
Sep 25, 2021 3:20 pm
Stella looks nervously as the blood magic does its work, but quickly shifts focus as Wirrow begins to lead the way. She snatches a few arrows from one of the fallen archers and follows suit.

"Captured..." Stella murmurs to Imoen. "Probably in their camp. We're going to rescue him."

Stella wracks her brain, trying to recall what she knows about hobgoblins and why they might be organized here.

Rolls

History - (1d20+2)

(19) + 2 = 21

Sep 26, 2021 1:24 am
Aiwë sighs with relief at Stella's aid. "Thanks, sister-girl." She checks her equipment while Wirrow sees to Stella.
Quote:
"We did good, right?"
"I think so," Shelur ventures, realizing no one is around to call the shots or assess such things. "Though if any of the Clan get caught drinking the blood of our enemies..." she hesitates, suddenly realizing she might set Wirrow's 'caged animal eyes' off. "It's not super awesome..." she finishes lamely. "Um, lets get going."
Last edited September 26, 2021 1:25 am

Rolls

Survival - (1d20+1)

(10) + 1 = 11

Sep 27, 2021 11:57 pm
Imoen skips forward. "'Drinking the blood of our enemies'?" Her light laughter seems shrill in the dark night. "What, are we talking vampires or something? Like one of those would be out in these woods tonight! Although..." She huddles down a bit into her cloak. "I suppose these dark woods next to the Inn, which makes a steady source of victims..."

She bursts out suddenly at the adventurers, hands like claws and a snarl on her face. "Blah!" But the twinkle never leaves her eyes. The young girl erupts with laughter, sagging low with her arms wrapped around herself. "Oh, I swear! I'm sure nobody would visit the Friendly Arm Inn if there were a vampire nearby. Surely the Mirrorshades would put the vile thing down right quick!"
Sep 28, 2021 12:00 am
Thinking on the hobgoblins, Stella considers their martial skill. Clearly they were used to fighting as a group, more like a squad of soldiers than ragtag brigands. There's no possibility that hobgoblins could be here in force, however. An army of the goblinoids would surely draw the attention of both Baldur's Gate and Amn!

But perhaps a smaller, organized force, such as a band of mercenaries? That would likely be closer to the truth.

Meanwhile, Aiwe searches around for clues as to their missing blacksmith's whereabouts. She easily finds the hobgoblins' camp just a little further into the woods. There are but a handful of sleeping bags around the ashes of a firepit, all of them empty. And just far enough away so as to keep an eye on, she finds Sheemish, bound and unconscious.
Sep 28, 2021 1:34 am
Stella counts the sleeping bags.

"Five bedrolls..." she whispers. "I think that was all of them."

She waits hesitantly, trusting Aiwë or Wirrow to look for dangers such as traps before approaching.
Last edited September 28, 2021 1:45 am

Rolls

Investigation, if needed - (1d20+4)

(18) + 4 = 22

Sep 28, 2021 1:38 am
"I believe it," Aiwë says in response to Imoen. "Just as quickly as bloodthirsty assassins that strike in libraries and dark bounty hunters that take captives from their rooms." She glowers out at the camp. The enemies she is used to aren't usually so subtle or sly. She prefers it that way.

Satisfied there aren't further enemies lying in wait, Aiwë gestures for Stella to help Sheemish, and sets to rooting through the mercs' belongings.

Actually mean perception, but same bonus. Or else investigation for a flat roll.
Last edited September 28, 2021 1:43 am

Rolls

Survival - (1d20+1)

(14) + 1 = 15

Sep 28, 2021 1:50 am
Stella follows Aiwë's lead and kneels next to Sheemish, drawing a small knife. She cuts his bonds, then taps out the five-stared constellation of the Watchers, which flashes and fades, imbuing the artificer with life.

She only had one dose of prepared herbs left, and was getting more comfortable with her druidic powers...though only slightly it seemed. (Sheemish regains 4 HP)
Last edited September 28, 2021 1:51 am

Rolls

Healing Word - (1d4+3)

(1) + 3 = 4

Sep 28, 2021 1:57 am
Sheemish, face sporting a fair number of cuts and bruises, seems to breathe more easily as some of the injuries magically close and heal. The blacksmith's eyes flicker open and for a moment he focuses on Stella's face above him. He opens his mouth, likely to crack some joke, but then his eyelids drift shut and his head falls gently back. Breathing slowly and steadily, the man has fallen asleep. It would seem the exhausted artificer needs his rest.
Sep 28, 2021 3:37 pm
Aiwe finds little on the bodies of the hobgoblins, but within their sleeping rolls and bags she finds some gold and several patches. The patches look as though they've been removed from clothing, and there are similarly-sized holes on the shoulders of the hobgoblins' tunics. Each patch bears the same symbol: a dark blue fist surrounded by a light blue nimbus.

Rolls

Guld peesez - (7d20)

(141041651516) = 80

Sep 28, 2021 4:52 pm
"Got any room left in your book for a sketch of this?" Aiwë asks Stella, showing her one of the patches. "And here's some money for a new one." She consolidates the money into one of the hobgoblin's pouches, and drops it into Stella's pack.

While Stella makes her sketch, Aiwë checks to make sure they have everything she recognizes as Sheemish's, then lifts the burly blacksmith over her shoulders.

"I'm ready to go."
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