She had not been shot at yet, and that makes Riina hesitate for just a brief moment. That could only imply that the goblins were concentrating on the others, and if the large wolf pack concentrates on a single foe, it will fall, regardless of who it is.

Riina walks around the camp, until she can directly see the other goblins. She nocks another arrow and fires at the goblin straight across from her.

(OOC: If you label the graph alphabetically along the side, and numerically along the top so her initial position is A17, she moves three squares down, and two diagonally down to the right, to F19, and is firing at the goblin at F5)

Ashlands, Slith Sagonissra
Dephosi, The Topaz Bridge
Febre, Morning
Down the spiralling crystal tower they descended, deep into the heart of the Spiregate. The guards abidingly strode alongside the back and front of the Sucurion child, and the man of the Dragon’s Horn. They formed a four pointed star, the centre of which was the promise of the gold dragon shaman’s future. Though perspective was wholly responsible for such conclusions. To other, less interested denizens of the Sapphire City, they were naught but highly respected guests to the high shaman Eskalios. To the more politically endowed, the escort was a signal of worth. Being dragged through the city with guards surrounding them actually had taken away the only advantage that these young foreigners had to their advantage. Blending into acute nothingness. Skoarn were nefariously proud, and they thought little of the other races that came to visit their magnificent city. By singling these two out in a crowd of outsiders, they became beacons of interest.

Even still, it had the mere effect of Cyrus and Draygo’Solarr being noticed by the citizens. Harm seemed above them this day, and perhaps this was to be expected. The guardians hired by Eskalios were likely prestigious fighters. He often had need of good strong soldiers at his side, or to defend other delegates from far away lands that would be sought after, their ears poisoned… or perhaps their food.

When they left the core sector of the Spiregate, and began travelling across a vast bridge crafted of what Cyrus could only assume was Topaz, the air of safety had fled them. It was not so much that there were hostilities present in the open, but that the guards themselves seemed to become quite tense. One played with his hauberk, while the other squeezed and twisted the grip of his spear. The lead, who was apparent by the golden helmet, with a silver plume that rose up like a ponytail, had done nothing to alleviate this tension in Cyrus, when he leaned over to whisper across Draygo’Solarr’s shoulder, “We are coming up on the district of the Green Maw… Be at the ready.”

Though he could only guess, his assumption was that this was a tribal territory, established by green-scaled skoarn at the least, and green dragon shamans at the worst. By definition the gold dragons were enemies to their green brethren, this was no different in the scope of political madness that boiled within the city of dragons. This was especially true of dragon shamans, who are indulgent in the alignment of their totemic worship.

If they crossed the wrong party of people within Green Maw’s territory, they would be in for a bit of the rough and tumble. The guards looked capable of handling themselves, but from what Draygo’Solarr knew of the city, and what Cyrus had heard in rumour, there were some seriously dangerous dragons lurking around shaman controlled regions.

The Dragon's Lash
Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Neulos, Near Midnight
Grugg, the newly decided messiah to the orc fighter Fig, decided that it was a good idea to run up a mountain side in the middle of the night. Though the terrain was difficult, he managed effectively, for over an hour at least, at which point he finally became winded and decided that it was time to take a break. He turned around to discover however, that he had lost his new “follower” in his attempt to scale the mountainside. Apparently wearing armour had slowed the orc down enough to lose him on the mountainside below.

Now, he was faced with a choice… Grugg was tired, and running on would likely cause him even more physical strain, strain that he had gained through a forced march earlier that day to make it as far as they had, then the battle with the two “tall men”, as he called them. His new subordinate was also somewhere down the mountain, and would be unable to catch up to Grugg, with his speed and experience jumping weighing to his advantage. This was no race however, Grugg would need followers if he was to inflict any real pain into the goblin empire. Likely, Grugg knew nothing of this sort of stratagem. If he were to decide whether or not to return for the fighter Fig, it would be solely due to the fact that he was Grugg, and not Grugg, the orc that needed assistance in battling an empire.

(In the end, the choice is up to you, I am not trying to prevent you from ascending the mountain, however, your friend doesn’t move at 50 feet per round, and is encumbered by medium armour. You managed to climb three miles up, due to the difficulty of the terrain… and perhaps jumping down it occasionally for fun. If you decide to run for another hour you will take a point of non-lethal damage, and then become fatigued.)

Drydoc, The Eye of the Dragon
Shader's Nest
Febre, Mid day
The guild mistress listened intently to what the halfling had to say. She even perked up in her seat occasionally as he said something that apparently interested her. Mostly however, she just rested her pretty button chin upon her criss-crossed hands, that formed a sort of hammock, supported by her elbows as if they were the slender trunks of beach trees. She smirked friendly as Tanglefoot finished his side of the story. She then turned to Silvarimon, and gave him the most heart stopping glare this young halfling rogue had ever laid eyes upon. Silvarimon bowed graciously, as though he had just been complimented, and left the room without another word, or another sound at that, his grace so eternally refined. Apparently he had overstayed his welcome.

“You are lying through your teeth little one,” the guild mistress spoke, and for the first time, Tanglefoot noticed the Qinxoree accent within her rhetoric, “but… I like you. You entertain me. Quite the spinner of tales, aye?”

For a moment, as her gaze bore into him, her eyes seemed to be more alive than that of a mere mortal, the portals to her soul flowing like quicksilver. It was merely the trick of the light, thought Tanglefoot, dancing within them, the orange flames flickering as though her eyes were mirrors. “I will look into this business regarding your… what is it exactly that you’ve had stolen from you?”

After hearing a reply to her query, she nods slowly, and looks up into the far corner of her room. Tanglefoot traces her gaze as well, but sees nothing spectacular, behind him, not in the corner of the wall that is. Perhaps she was merely thinking, he thought, it was a spacial habit of hers. Then her voice brought him back to face her.

“You must do me a favour however, as my time is not free. I have a job for you, and may even pay you if you don’t screw it up as badly as some other jobs you’ve had.” In regards to this statement, an obvious mockery of his current situation, she gives off the most appealing giggle, which is cut short before it becomes melodious, and making it missed by it’s absence. “If you accept, then I shall work on finding you your previous prize, though these are my terms… and quite non negotiable at that.”

The room seemed so very silent. It was as though if the halfling thief tried, he could hear the whispered conspiracies of mice within the walls. Even the crackle of the firewood seemed dull. Though in his mind he still heard the echo of her laugh. What was her name, he wondered.

Tanglefoot watched as the GuildMaster excused the elf and he raised an eyebrow at what appeared to him to be a silent rebuke, for what he had no idea.

“You are lying through your teeth little one,” the guild mistress spoke, and for the first time, Tanglefoot noticed the Qinxoree accent within her rhetoric, “but… I like you. You entertain me. Quite the spinner of tales, aye?”
The Halfling gave her a surprised look as she accused him of lying, but that slipped slowly away as she continued and he smiled sheepishly and shrugged slightly as if to say it was worth a try.

“I will look into this business regarding your… what is it exactly that you’ve had stolen from you?”
“A statuette,” Tanglefoot said and gave her a detailed description of the item. This might be a stroke of luck he thought, to get the item back and to get in the good graces of the Guild Master of Drydoc.

“You must do me a favor however, as my time is not free. I have a job for you, and may even pay you if you don’t screw it up as badly as some other jobs you’ve had.” In regards to this statement, an obvious mockery of his current situation, she gives off the most appealing giggle, which is cut short before it becomes melodious, and making it missed by it’s absence. “If you accept, then I shall work on finding you your previous prize, though these are my terms… and quite non negotiable at that.”
He smiled slightly and sighed; he didn’t expect to get anything for free and perhaps this ‘job’ might make this entire venture more profitable than he had imagined. Her little giggle surprised him as he didn’t expect such things from someone as hard and demanding as a Guild Master.

“What choice do I have,” Tanglefoot shrugged with a small grin, “besides I would be honored to work for such a powerful personage as yourself.. ah.. what do I call you? Guild Mistress?” He hoped to learn at least her name, if not from her he was sure he could find out on the streets of Drydoc, for a price.

Ashlands, Slith Sagonissra
Dephosi, The Topaz Bridge
Febre, Morning

“We are coming up on the district of the Green Maw… Be at the ready.”
Draygo'Solarr dropped back a pace or two to confer with Cyrus as the four guardsmen tightened their grip on their weapons, senses straining for any indication of unseen observers or the slightest hint of hidden danger.

"We be far enough away from the prying ears of the enemies of my adopted father," the young Golden Dragon Shaman spoke in a friendly, but subdued tone, "and these be loyal guardsmen who have protected me in recent years from my own foolishness among the Skoarn."

Draygo'Solarr did not need to hear the question voiced by his newfound comrade in quest. He could feel it when he had bowed comically to the guardsmen when they had first entered the room earlier in the day.

"We play a game for the hidden listeners," explained Draygo'Solarr matter of factly as he drew abreast of Cyrus and matched the young adventurer stride for stride as he quietly surveyed the surroundings and the body language of his faithful guardsmen. "I play the part of the Elven buffoon and my guardsmen play the part of the displeased Skoarn who disdain the very thought of having to escort me wherever I choose or am ordered by my adopted father to go."

"The game we play is a tragi-comedy of sorts," the young Golden Dragon Shaman continued with a laugh. "Theirs is the tragedy of being saddled with such a pampered Elven whelp and the comedy is my buffoonery and how my guardsmen must react to it all with nothing more than a straight face."

"But out of the reach of prying eyes and ears we are all equals," explains Draygo'Solarr as he follows the lead of the guardsmen leading the party, while swiftly checking the body language of the other three in the disguised battle formation. "I would gladly give my life for theirs as they would gladly surrender their lives for mine ... or yours friend Cyrus!"

"But the truth of the matter is simply this," concludes Draygo'Solarr as he looks directly at his friend Cyrus for added emphasis, "My guardsmen will not allow either my life ... or yours ... to be forfeit this day ... or any other day! So if you fall into the company of the accursed Green Dragon Shamans, simply tell them that you were being banished to the Black Tar Lakes along with the Elven buffoon as punishment for questioning the validity of the authority of the Golden Dragon Shamans who hold sway over the political arena of all the assembled Skoarn! You may find such explanation reason enough for the Green Ones to spare your life for their own sordid purpose!"

Draygo'Solarr is acting outwardly nonchalant as the party proceeds, but inwardly is preparing himself for a defensive reaction should the party be attacked or challenged by anyone or anything in their path.

"We be far enough away from the prying ears of the enemies of my adopted father," the young Golden Dragon Shaman spoke in a friendly, but subdued tone, "and these be loyal guardsmen who have protected me in recent years from my own foolishness among the Skoarn."
Cyrus was somewhat relieved that his companion already had a general idea as to whom could and could not be trusted. Draygo'Solarr anticipated the dragonblooded's questions before they came it seemed.

"We play a game for the hidden listeners," explained Draygo'Solarr matter of factly as he drew abreast of Cyrus and matched the young adventurer stride for stride as he quietly surveyed the surroundings and the body language of his faithful guardsmen. "I play the part of the Elven buffoon and my guardsmen play the part of the displeased Skoarn who disdain the very thought of having to escort me wherever I choose or am ordered by my adopted father to go."
Cyrus allowed himself to grin as he listened to the height of deception and trickery of the Golden Skoarn Shamans.
"I suppose I should take on the appearance of a pint-sized surly human who does little to lighten the atmosphere with his scowling beauty then?" Cyrus jested, his frosty appearance melting somewhat to Draygo'Solarr's eyes. The shaman spent some time explaining the game and the truth behind.

"Perhaps I have been so banished for being so sour in the presence of one such as yourself. Does that sound like proper politics to you? Perhaps I have much to learn before I can make proper of such games." he replied, smiling as his icy eyes scanned the area carefully. With but a thought would the silver of his blood would be revealed in preparation for working with the arcane energies that resided in dragons, and to do so was only so tempting at this point. He forced himself to maintain a look of general displeasure at his presumed fate and walked within the set bounds. If perhaps they were to be attacked, fighting back may not be the best answer, especially if it were true that unallegiance was so great a buffer from assault. In this world, it mattered not who attacked who, but which faction member attacked which faction.

After the goblin that was closest to her fell dead at her feet she was going to use his bow and arrows to shot at the others. She was in a awful spot. She refused to leave the boy entrapped in the entangle. she had none of her own weapns or equipment to aid her.

Even as she reached for the bow another goblin moved forward to attack her.

She took one step to stand behind the fallen body of the first goblin in hopes of foiling the attack of hte incoming goblin just a bit. Having to clamer over a body in the midst of an entangle spell might give her a chance to down this foe even with an unfamiliar weapon in her hand. "Corellon, see me safely through this so I can get the boy out alive and well." Tianna prepared herself to meet the attack she had a slight reach advantage which she hoped to use before he got close enough. she decided on a horizontal strike His doge could really only be to the left or right unless he held back or lunge forward, so her strike could possibly had a follow through to wherever he dodged too. Coolly she planned her attack putting aside all else to focus on the combat at hand--literally.

He saw the goblin fall, he saw the elf fighting for her life, he had made things worse. He was badly wounded, you must know when to fight and when to run, for all his connection to the world he ran. He turned and made for cover behind a tent before running, his companion would find him, he might not forgive him but death was part of their lives. Him, he could live for ever, every day for every year until he was killed. A fight lost today dose not mean death, he would rather live for countless others.

The entangled wolf pined for his presence but he did not come.

Drydoc, The Eye of the Dragon
Shader's Nest
Febre, Mid day
The guild mistress smiled, her white teeth beaming across hthedesk towards Tanglefoot. She was apparently very pleased by this turn of events. “ Excellent. I will have Silvarimon explain everything once you leave. I will look into this business about the stolen statuette for you, and considering how well you work for me, I may just reward you in kind.”

Her smile ends, and she seems to cow her head, heading around the desk that divided them from one another, trailing her index finger along the surface as she walked in gentle strides. When she was but a few feet away from him, she knelt down, so that they could see each other eye to eye. It was a very personable thing to do, situate yourselves at the level of your lesser. Indeed, it was a disarming gesture. “I hope you do well. Oh, and my name is Symilia. Don’t make me a nickname… or I will have you killed.” She smiled as she finished with her harsh words, though Tanglefoot had the distinct impression that she wasn’t kidding. Not in the least.

After that brief conclusion to their first meeting, Tanglefoot was ushered out of the door by the orcish woman he had previously called beautiful, and found Silvarimon awaiting his presence at the foot of the stairs. “ Well… I assume you’ve agreed to the job, else wise Bombas would have carried you out, rather than merely escort.” Silvarimon pointed towards the orc thumper, and Tanglefoot understood what he had meant. The job offer wasn’t really optional, Not really. If he had refused he’d have ended up in a bag.

“All right, come with me, and I’ll show you what you’ll be doing.” The elven man walked briskly through the crowd of thieves, something unadvisable in most situations, what with their nimble fingers and all, however, Tanglefoot noticed that the thieves tended to shy away from the elf. He was obviously a man of authority, though the halfling could only imagine how far that grasp reached.

Eventually, the elf cleared the maze of tables and curtains, until they wound up in a section of the warehouse that was quartered off by the velvety cloth that hung from the rafters everywhere else the same. In contrast, this particular section was fully enclosed by the curtains, and there were guards on each of the four corners. They let them pass as Silvarimon stepped forward. The room was rather bare, with the exception of a solid oak table, one that was barely at eye level with the halfling. Upon it lay a map and a silver dagger. The map looked to be the labyrinthine workings of a sewage system. “This, is what you’ll need to complete your mission. One of our agents went insane a little while ago, and started attacking the market places at night. He was reportedly quite ravenous, and even bit some of the merchants. It turns out that they in turn became infected with lycanthropy. We had them dealt with, but he escaped into the sewers, and is quite proficient at evading us. You’ll need to the dagger to kill him, it’s coated with alchemical silver. The map is so you can count corners, however we don’t know his exact location.”

Drydoc, The Eye of the Dragon
Shader's Nest
Febre, Mid day
“Excellent. I will have Silvarimon explain everything once you leave. I will look into this business about the stolen statuette for you, and considering how well you work for me, I may just reward you in kind.”
Tanglefoot smiled brightly at the mention of potential reward and started to reply when she came around from behind her desk and knelt down in front of him. This was odd he thought; the guild mistress putting herself on the same level as a subordinate, very odd indeed and unexpected.

“I hope you do well. Oh, and my name is Symilia. Don’t make me a nickname… or I will have you killed.” She smiled as she finished with her harsh words.
Tanglefoot managed to keep his smile on his face by sheer willpower, for he did recognize that she wasn’t kidding about killing him. He would expect no less from the head of the thieves’ guild and though she was a woman he knew better than to underestimate her fierceness.

“I will do my best, Guildmistress!” He replied and gave her a little bow.

Seeing he was dismissed he turned and seeing the large orc woman again who was going to escort him out of the room he smiled at her again in a sincere fashion, “Well, well.. this guild is teeming with loveliness around every turn,” as he followed her out of the room. His tone was not mocking but lighthearted and sounded very sincere even though the object of his words was far from the vision to which he was alluding.

. “ Well… I assume you’ve agreed to the job, else wise Bombas would have carried you out, rather than merely escort.” Silvarimon pointed towards the orc thumper.
Tanglefoot nodded and smiled at him knowingly, “I assumed that would be the case it is sort of the nature of the business is it not?”

He followed the elf through the maze and kept his hands on his things making sure no one decided to ‘relieve’ him of any more of his valuables. As he walked through the building he scanned the area taking in the scope of the operation. The Halfling whistled silently to himself at all the things he saw; it was quite a set up and probably quite profitable considering the size of Drydoc.

“This, is what you’ll need to complete your mission. One of our agents went insane a little while ago, and started attacking the market places at night. He was reportedly quite ravenous, and even bit some of the merchants. It turns out that they in turn became infected with lycanthropy. We had them dealt with, but he escaped into the sewers, and is quite proficient at evading us. You’ll need to the dagger to kill him, it’s coated with alchemical silver. The map is so you can count corners, however we don’t know his exact location.”
Tanglefoot looked over the map of the sewers under Drydoc and listened as Silvarimon laid out a daunting task for him. He turned to look at the elf when he was finished speaking a look of disbelief upon his face.

“You want me to go up against a lycanthrope?” he asked incredulously.

(Room for reply)

He reached out and took the dagger and checked it over, especially the blade checking to see if it was indeed silver. He slowly shook his head at the magnitude of this quest. He had heard of lycanthrope, or werewolves as some called them. They were fierce and tough and hard to kill and he was only a little Halfling. Still shaking his head he took the dagger and stuck it in his belt as he rolled up the map.

“What choice do I have?” he asked mostly of himself as he consigned himself to the mission. He had never really been afraid of anything, but he was cautious and he would have to be very careful here if he was to survive.

“I guess I best be going,” he said to the elf, “No time like the present. Do you have any thing else for me? A crossbow with Silver bolts perhaps?” he chuckled yet his voice held a hopeful tone.

Goblin encampment
Iodum Road, on the edge of the Paegos forest
Febre, Early Morning

Tianna swipes her hand axe towards the oncoming goblin, but he easily ducks her swing. Tianna isn't as lucky however, and is hit by the blow of a goblin's bullet, from the nearby campfire. This same goblin that attacks Tianna, is attacked by Riina in kind. Though she is quite sharp with a bow, she misses the goblin, by mere inches.

The heavily built goblin on the other side of the campfire who had been the cause of much duress to the druid Acantha misses, and awards the young killoren with a break, one that is only to be thwarted by the sharpshoter who had been otherwise ineffective in this battle up until now. This particular goblin did not miss his mark, in fact, he made a devastating shot into the druid's chest, and Acantha dropped like a rock.

Meanwhile, the leather wearing goblin that had charged after Tianna strikes out at her with his club in hand. Though the elf was armourless, she was still swift, and adept at dodging blows. Dodging his blow, she prepares to counterattack, wanting to save the boy, and escape with her life.

Cheli howls as his master is felled, though the desire to assist Acantha is not enough to free him from his bonds. The roots still grasp at his fur, pulling him down towards the earth. No amount of gnawing would free him.

All in all, this rescue attempt was failing. The only advantage they seemed to have was that the plants that entangled the tents were preventing the other goblins from leaving and adding to the insane odds of this conflict.


(Tianna has taken 1 damage. Acantha is at -1 hitpoints. Lots of bad rolls that time. Better luck next time...)

Mountain was big. Big like Grugg. But more rocks. Grugg had moved for hours now. Was long time to move. Grugg liked to move. Especially when he jumped. Other not-Grugg did not move like Grugg. He was not Grugg. He did not love to jump. Grugg loved to jump.

Grugg's jumping put him far ahead of not-Grugg, and not-Grugg would get lonely. Grugg did not really like not-Grugg. Grugg liked Grugg, and club. And jumping. Grugg loved to jump. Still, not Grugg had use. Grugg could smash tiny greens himself, but then who would know. Grugg did not know how to know how to tell stories. Grugg just jumped, he did not talk. Grugg would need not-Grugg to make Grugg more big of talk. Grugg would like this. Not as much as love to jump, but closer.

Plus, Grugg needed nap.

((OOC: Uh, I nap. On the spot. Yes.))

Riina's ears pick up the whine of a wolf, which could only be that of the other one's companion. The wolf wasn't hurt at all during the course of the battle, that Riina could see anyway, so its crying out had to be to its fallen companion, the other Killoren. Riina nods solemnly. It appeared it would come to that after all.

Riina moves up, no longer caring about the individual goblins. It is time to fulfill her own objective. The reinforcements from the search party the goblins sent out earlier would be alerted, of course, it was unavoidable, but she could lose them in the woods. It is a drastic plan, but there doesn't seem to be any other option; if she waited, it might not even be an option.

She reaches into her backpack, and feels the hard, cold glass of a vial. She takes it out, and takes a single arrow. Methodically, as though she did this every day, Riina applies the oil onto the tip of the arrow. This would have to be done quickly, but if done right, it would eliminate her reason for being there, and she could move on.

Tianna could only fight on against the goblin that was attacking her. The ax was strange in her hand. IT was top heavy, however, the more she swung it the better it felt. Tianna was fighting for her life and the boy's who had been captured with her.

Tianna couldn't take time to cut him out. She could only keep attacking the goblin.

Whoever had cast the entangle had made it very difficult for her to save herself and the boy. She had caught sight of arrows flying from somewhere outside the entangle spells area of effect but did not know who it was out there.
Tianna heard the wolf howl and then whine, whether it was a friend or foe she had no idea.

If she was only close to her bow and arrows, but she put the though out of her mind. Now she concentrated and swinging that ax and hitting the little bugger.