Rinzo is a little disappointed that the monsters aren’t going to all rush at him with murder in their eyes, but consoles himself with the fact that the plan was slightly insane to begin with. He unleashes another torrent of caustic wit on the would-be child murderer.
3 psychic damage and disadvantage on next attack unless the victim makes a Wis save DC 14.
Hukthak froths at the mouth, going into a mad rage, takes a step towards one of the beasts circling around him and…
…How we gonna handle natural ones? I rolled a 1. Rolz has not been kind to me. Do I fumble my weapon, or what happens? Also, started round one of my rage, in case anyone missed it.
…Misses completely, his axe swinging wildly.
Hualdor (Dwarf Fighter–Archer)
Hualdor takes aim at one of the fish surrounding Hukthak, but just as he’s letting the bolt fly he has to swing his aim upwards to avoid hitting Hukthak himself.
He takes careful aim again, fires the bolt directly at the belly of one of the creatures–only to see the beast shift back for no particularly discernible reason, letting the arrow fly straight through the mass of fishy creatures to sink uselessly into the ocean.
“By the gods-damned beard!” he mutters, loading his crossbow for what should have been a third kill. Not expecting much, he lets loose the bolt, aiming for the ocean this time. Direct hit–dead fish.
[spoiler]Rolled: 9, 9 and 14. Damage roll: 8
As to Budget Player Cadet’s question, in 5e there is no rule specifying consequences for a natural 1.[/spoiler]
Thoradin takes a moment to catch his breath after he slays his two foes. He scans the area, trying to see if any of the fish men seem to be giving orders or otherwise directing the raid.
I wasn’t sure whether this sort of check would be perception or investigation so I rolled both. 12 perception, 14 investigation.
Okay, I’m declaring this combat beta test over. We’ll move on for a bit.
The sahugain are creatures of opportunity, it seems, and when opportunity turns against them in the form of five armed and armored adventurers, their plans are thrown into chaos. As Thoradin and Morath rally more and more villagers to the defense of their own village, a ragged line is formed that slowly drives the creatures back to the bay. The sahugain slip into the water and vanish. They leave their wounded behind, abandoning them to the tender mercies of the fisherfolk.
Soon enough, only bodies remain - monster and villager alike.
A disheveled man with a limp and a bloodstained pair of breeches approaches. His face is deep brown, creased, and white-beared - the face of a man who has spent a great many years in the sun. He eyes your various weapons with trepidation, but says nothing about them, no doubt owing to the service only recently provided.
“My name is Josef Snuarson,” he says, and his voice is weak. “On behalf of all of us, thank you for what you have done today. We ar-”
“Grateful, nothin’!” shouts a tall man nearby, who is standing over the body of one of the villagers. His eyes are red. He has been weeping. “You don’t think it’s STRANGE that this lot shows up in town and just happen to be here to save us!? They’re obvious in lea-”
“Shut your hook-hole, Francis!” counters a woman whose hair is festooned with colorful seashells. “We’ve all heard of the fisheries having trouble all along the coast. We’re lucky they were here.”
More shouts arise, quickly growing into a cacophony. Josef tries to speak over them, and then shout over them, but his already weak voice grows weaker. He sways side to side and then crumples at the knees, collapsing to the ground as the villagers continue to argue.
**Morath **raises his voice to be heard over the bickering crowd:
"Listen to me! We don’t expect your thanks! We didn’t save you! You saved yourself, by banding together to protect your homes from those monsters!
“There are wounded among you! Better that you tend them than stand here arguing!”
[spoiler]Persuasion roll: 13
Not obvious success or failure given the circumstances.[/spoiler]
Hukthak walks over to Francis and gives him a shove. “Back off. I didn’t come here to be ambushed by fish-monsters, and I sure as hell didn’t come here to be berated after helping scare 'em off.” He growls, showing off his tusks, but due to the slurring and the fish guts hanging off one of them, he makes for more of a comedic figure than anything else.
I honestly have no idea what my bonus is on Intimidate. I’m proficient in it due to being a half-orc. I think that means +2 at my current level… Either way, a “5” probably isn’t going to cut it. Seriously, I think I haven’t rolled higher than an 8 literally the entire time I’ve used Rolz. WTF.
[Thoradin, cleric]
Thoradin rushes to the fallen Josef. He inspects his body for battle wounds, immediately finding a pool of blood over wounded artery in his thigh. Though he is not a proficient surgeon, he has treated a wound just like this before. He stops the bleeding and sutures up the wound. As Josef starts to regain consciousness, he gives him water from his skin. Josef fully regains consciousness and will recover with time.
Rolled a natural 20 on the medicine check - 24. I assume that means it’s the maximum successful case, he’ll regain consciousness quickly and recover with time.
Rinzo, Human Bard
Rinzo fills his lungs and takes up the argument, beginning mournfully, looking in sad concord with the frightened fishmonger and shifting gradually into loftier emotions:
"Here we gather, drawn by fate
Neither early, yet too late
For other towns as these
That share such treacherous seas.
"'Tis gods, men say, whose puff’ed cheeks
Blow the sails 'till masts should creek.
Proud captains at their tillers know
They but ride the winds gods blow.
"So, wind-swept come we to this shore
And up the waves there came a score
Of beasts with minds to plunder
And we, friends, drove them under
"If by plots we come to stand
Timely on this battled strand
Then treachers do you call the gods
That rig such games, and fix such odds.
"I see a fisher, pole in hand
Who stood a pikeman for his land.
Midst you proud there stands a fishwife
Who flayed a fishman with her fish knife.
"Other towns, so I hear tell,
Held their shores not near so well.
Courage, like the breath divine,
Blows wild through every heart and mind
“But tack your sails, hold fast your tills,
Or else deny that god’s wind wills
That all of us must captains be.
Though winds blow bold, we shall be free.”
14 Performance check.
Hualdor (dwarf archer) sits on a step and inspects his crossbow for damage. He’s keeping one eye on the waters in case of further trouble.
As Thoradin works to perform life-saving first aid on Josef, Hukthak shoves Francis, glowering his orcish glower. This seems to have the opposite intended effect, and Francis picks up a bloodstained belaying pin that had been laying by the body of a nearby villager. The woman with seashell-adorned hair, who had moments before been berating the man, now holds him back, speaking to him in urgent, low tones. More voices raise, Morath’s among them, and for a moment it seems that tempers are about to explode.
This is when Rinzo begins his dirge. Slowly, one by one, fishermen and women fall silent. By the time he finishes, Josef is coughing weakly and sitting up with Thoradin’s help. In the sudden quiet, it is plainly apparent that the man’s life has been saved by the dwarven cleric. Those who argued on behalf of the party seem validated, and those who argued against show various shades of anger, shame, and grudging acceptance. Several turn away and begin the mournful task of gathering the dead.
“Thank you,” says Josef weakly, but his voice is audible to those nearby. “This has never happened before. Why have they come here? And what will we do if they return?”
Awesome song, Rinzo! I gave you a hidden DM bonus on the roll for the effort, and you may take a point of inspiration.
Rinzo, human bard
Rinzo looks to the elf. “You managed to muster a hasty resistance. What would you have done, if you’d had time to plan?”
Hukthak scootches towards the back of the crowd, his previous attempt at diplomacy apparently having failed miserably, and stands by, waiting for something to happen.
[Thoradin, cleric]
“I don’t know why your village was attacked, and why the fish men grow bold. There have been rumors of strange happenings in the far ends of the world, and those happenings encroach upon the edges of civilization. That is, in fact, why I’m here. I’ve been sent to investigate these matters for myself, and it appears, with good reason.”
He looks out at the crowd, noticing few men of fighting age among them.
“Where are your men of arms? Your guards, your soldiers? We do not know if the threat remains, but you must prepare. You will need to gather what fighting men you have here, arm them, and drill as a militia, ready to respond to threats such as this. Your town’s government must act with haste on this matter.”
He looks over the wounded, trying to assess who is most in need of his help.
“I am no surgeon, but I will help to tend to your wounded as much as I can. Gather any other healers and any medical supplies you have at hand. And as I work, I would like anyone who has heard rumors of these strange happenings to share what they know with me.”
With the help of some of the crowd, Thoradin drags some tables together from nearby shops and sets up a rudimentary clinic for the injured and begins treating those with the worst wounds.
Rinzo, Human Bard
“What little magical healing I have is at your disposal. As for rites for the fallen, I am better accustomed to strike the comfortable than comfort the stricken. But as you’ve come to investigate these troubles, you may find there a use for my sword and my spells. I am at your service.”
With the help of Thoradin and Rinzo, the villagers set up a makeship field hospital, tending to the wounded. There are no surgeons among the fishermen, but their trade is not one free of peril, and many men and women know how to set bones and tend to small wounds. Augmented by magical healing, no more lives are lost beyond those already taken by Sahugain spear and sword.
Later, the party is invited to dine with Josef and his family. His house is simple - no larger or more ornate than any others that you have seen here, but the walls are sturdy, the fireplace is warm, and the food is hot and plentiful. Josef, it seems, has been luckier than most. Neither his wife nor his two young daughters were killed in the fighting. The girls, identical twins, are eerily similar in appearance to their mother. Willowy, dark-haired, and large-eyed. They are polite but generally silent throughout the meal, and Josef himself is still too weak to make more than small conversation.
After the stew has been finished, though, he speaks in a voice still weak with exhaustion and pain.
"We do not know what to do. Obviously the rumors of the fisheries along the coastline have not been exaggerated. We have neither guard nor militia. The closest contingent of any Imperial Guard would be in Stormside, but the Sahugain sank most of our larger boats in the attack. We have only small fishing boats remaining. And what will we do until then?
So you guys have two choices. You can find a way to travel to Stormside and alert the Imperial Guard there of the threat, or you can stay at the village to protect and train the villagers as Thoradin mentioned.
Hukthak speaks up in gruffly. “Oof… I’ve been around enough to know that taking to the ocean in a small boat is a recipe for disaster. I remember this one time off the northern coasts… Ended up clinging to the side that damned rock for hours waiting for the tide to come back up. Limbs were so cold by the end of it I almost drowned.” He shudders at the thought. “Plus, last time I fought those fishheads I was… not quite going 100%. I want another whack at the buggers, and I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one around here who’s gotten a taste for fish.” He crunches the head off the fish on his plate for emphasis.
Rinzo, Human Bard
Rinzo takes stock of this thrown-together band. Do any of them have the bandy-legged land stride of experienced seamen? Could these townsmen hold out for reinforcements? How long? Have they stores enough, or dare they continue to fish these waters? His attempt at risk calculation begin to give him a headache. He turns instead to the one thing he might be able to handle – rumors, and what evidence they may provide of whether or how soon the bastards may return. Has any town been wiped out? Has any stood only to be attacked again? And who then brought word, escaped survivors or sea captains forced to bypass burning ports?
Thoradin, dwarf cleric.
“I dread the thought of trying to brave the ocean in a a glorified raft. If we stay here, what of the other villages that receive no warning about this attack? We should go to Stormside overland. From there, we must convince them to deploy the Guard and get the message out to any other coastal villages in the area.”
He looks over the wounded. “If not us, then who among these men could make the trip? Almost all of those who could handle themselves have been killed or wounded, and if we sent out a messenger party who fell prey to bandits or a thousand other dangers, it would be weeks before we knew our message was not received. And in the mean time, who knows how many raids there might be?”
“Perhaps we could spare a day or two to tend to the wounded and organize the few men who remain, and perhaps even fight off a second raid if it should happen quickly. But I believe those of you who have fought beside me today are the best chance this entire region has be warned of further attack. Come with me, comrades in arms. It is imperative that we deliver the news.”
Hukthak (orc barbarian) coughs. “Err… My geography apparently ain’t what I thought it was. Over land I’ll do. Dunno what the terrain is around here, but you seem sure of yourself. I’ve got no problem with roughin’ it.”
He takes another bite of his food, chews thoughtfully, and says, “Lemme bounce an idea off you guys. Let’s assume, just for a moment, that we could find where these fishheads are comin’ from. What do you reckon our odds are if we try’n cut this off at the source?”