The Approaching Storm

Sunset

As you approach the main gate fortuitously arriving together, the rain has let up but there's is still a chill moistness to the air that promises a miserable journey tonight.

When you get to the gate, you first hear a commotion. When enter the space beside the gate, through the haze of the light rain and dim light, there seems to be more people than you'd expect. You see five cloaked figures (gray-black cloaks that appear to be festooned with feathers), and three more besides. Two of the cloakwearers are standing above two more figures, probably guards who are lying on the ground. Three other cloak wearers have surrounded a lithe figure of small stature.

Violence appears imminent. What do you do?

The barbarian sneers. More violence, a neverending ran of overcrowding and racism. Why these Ambrians insisted on living like rats within these walls, he'll never know. The man grunts at the sight, then turns to Aolita without breaking his stride. She was wont to ignore or protect on a whim, and though he couldn't understand her reasoning, he would need to be ready at a moments notice. Regardless of her decision, he slips in his shield in the event the violence spreads

Orlan steps forward from his companions, stopping in front of the three cloak wearers. He looks at the figure on the ground, then back at the cloak wearers, his chin up and his back stiff as a rod. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?, he rumbles, his fingers lightly holding the hilt of his greatsword .

There are times when Aolita leaps in with both feet, and others when the witch takes a more measured approach, sniffing for telling scents, casting rotten flower petals into the wind, consuming herbs and dried insects that clear and sharpen her mind. And then there are times when she uses the sight. When she tries to look through, look past, look inside and see the truth of things...

It is this she does now, muttering quiet words of power to herself as her body tremors briefly and her eyes flutter.

Gristle lingers on the fringes of the troupe as they make their way to the gate keeping company with Kverula who roots around in the mud for tasty worms emerging from the rain sodden soil only to be slurped up by the sow. Gristle keeps her hood up, her long nose the only feature protruding from its shadowed depths. She uses her spear like a walking stick, the leaf shaped blade obscured by a number of feathers and baubles she took time to attach before coming to town in an effort to obscure its true nature. She is not the first among them to notice the commotion at the gate, but quickly looks for a shadowed spot near the gate to slip into. Gristle is not spoiling for a fight, not this close to civilization, but if she must she'd prefer to strike unseen.

They are definitely human sized, if small humans. Clearly capable, given that they have subdued two people already near the gate.

When Orlan speaks, one of the three that have surrounded the even smaller person draws a blade in a motion that will lead to them throwing it at Orlan's face.

Gristle slips into the shadows successfullly.

Initiative time.

Everybody roll Vigilant at -5. So roll 1d20 and compare to your Vigilant stat -5. If you roll 5 under Vigilant or lower you can act before the cloaked figure.

Orlan blinks at the the sudden movement and tries to brace against an incoming attack.

Damn, the rich one will need my help even before my witch. Damned Ambrians and their pride. Vargos, standing near Aolita, prepares to move towards the other warrior. However, he knows he will not reach the man in time to intercept the blow.

Aolita squints behind her mask, but as the last of her muttered words leave her lips, she knows that the sight will elude her for the moment. They are surrounded by things man has made and perverted, and there are just too many people present in a settlement like Thistle Hold for her to see the true shadows of those before her. Worse still, she is caught off-guard when things turn violent...

Definitely trouble Gristle thinks as she moves into the shadows of a nearby building. They moved so quickly, things had already come to a head before she had a chance to know what was really happening.

Two of the three grab the smaller figure and start dragging him to the gate. He struggles and squeaks, a goblin voice, but the cloaked men are too strong for him.

The third releases his blade at Orlan.

Orlan, roll your Defense against +0 (their Accurate modifier) and if you roll over your Defense +0, take 3 damage.

All of you can act, in whatever order you post, but I'll process Aolita last for GM's prerogative on that 20.

Vaila appears to be down, suffering from cramping.

Damn, they’re quick, Orlan thinks, watching a dagger fly towards his face. He steps back at the last moment, feeling the rush of air as the knife flies past his nose.

This damn Ambrian is going to get himself killed before we leave the city! With a sigh, Vargos charges towards the men to stand beside his new companion. He draws forth his axe, a simple but functional weapon, and swings a mighty blow towards one of the two dragging the smaller target away.

Defense is -3, so yes that's a miss for Vargos.