I've stocked it with the basics, but am interested in what else you all think needs to be in there. If you have suggestions for category division, or for more books, games, or other items in the Myth-Weavers Shop, post them in THIS thread!!
Robin reaches for his sword before remembering that he had checked it in with the sheriff early this morning. Feeling lucky lardo? Lashing with his whip out at the goblin's feet expertly wrapping the whip around its ankle causing it to sprawl on the ground. Then jumping backwards, waiting for the best opportunity to strike with the only weapon he has left that is capable of hurting the goblin, his fist.
(OOC: As far as the Symbol of his deity, it's on his shield as well as the back of his cloak - though the back of the cloak is pretty faded from a few years of wear and tear. So Sarenrae is quite on display.)
Vicamros stands there listening to them for a moment. The Goblins are fanatical in their belief and the longer the conversation goes on for, the more it becomes apparent. His brow furrows and his eyes cast downward for a moment as a look of pain crosses over him. As Vic looks back up, he responds to them still in the Goblin tongue. His voice takes on a note of pity, even as the resolve builds within his heart for these lost souls. "I tried to save you, even when others would strike before taking the chance, but the desire to eat the offspring of an intelligent creature - that's too far. Too far indeed."
The half-orc takes the last few steps to close with the five foot gap with the Goblin wielding the dogslicer. Vic doesn't waste his time drawing his scimitar as he goes. No, he strikes with his shield instead. He speaks one last phrase as his shield thrusts outward to slam against the nearest Goblin, "May Pharasma take you, as Sarenrae only takes the redeemed!"
As Vic recovers from the strike thrown with his shield, he pulls the scimitar free of its scabbard. He steels himself for its use and watches for an opening which might present itself from the Goblins.
A defiant yell and a blur of movement on his flank. Kes spins in time to watch the goblin run itself through upon his blade. And fall on its face when he yanks the steel free of its body. He can't help but scream in frustration himself. "What's WRONG with you guys?!"
He grabs his collar to wipe the sweat pooling around his neck from his dripping face. His hand comes away wet and grimy from his steaming armor. He looks around him. It's senseless. Craven little things arming themselves with feeble weapons. Facing off with fully-armored knights without flinching. He looks down at the gore covering his cutlass. He throws it to the ground in disgust as he reaches behind his back.
He plants his feet. The longbow moves side to side at the end of his left arm as he chooses his targets. His hand fumbles at the quiver on his hip as he breathes from his mouth. His back goes rigid when he sucks in his chest. Wood slides on wood. Wood and bone flex in an effortless draw. He sights down the arrow. He has a decision to make.
The halfbreed. The knight stands armed but outnumbered. Kes's eyes flick to his employer on the podium. No friend of his. A powerfully-built Shoanti holds a crossbow nearby. The ranger follows the Sheriff's glare to the goblin on the temple roof. We ain't friends either . . .
. . . get in good? His left arm starts to go upright as he points the arrow skyward. It stops in mid-arc when his eyes fall on the paladin again. The arm quickly goes level as he lets the arrow fly. Kes shakes his head as the missile closes on the half-orc's opponent. Plunging shot. Hit the stage if it misses. Lousy odds. Right.
Dice Roll: 1d6-1z
d6 Results: 5 (Total = 4) These dice were omitted, altered, or moved: 1d6-1
Original Dice: 1d6-1
Club Goblin Dmg (4) (It is a makeshift club after all)
Hmm. Something wonky going on here. I don't think I can fix it without getting blue warnings. Here's the sitch... I posted the attack rolls first and got two 'hits' which makes it a crit for the dogslicer and a normal hit for the club. So I did a 'return' and added in the crit confirm roll tags and damage tags. And now it looks like it took the '19' from the club it and made it into my crit confirm hit. So despite what it appears, the goblin did not confirm crit, but both of them beat out Vic's AC of 19
Will remind myself to send a memo to one of the GMs I know who worked on the dice tags and ask him about it. For now, I will just stop trying to make things pretty and roll tags in the order I decide they are required instead. And dammit if adding a 'z' to the end of a tag doesn't make blue warnings too. Supposed to be a 4 anyways. I may go play with dice rolls again later on and see if I can figure out some things.
Giving the girl child a quick quip and the crowd around a quick look, Rodrick is simply in a bad position to see what is going on. Too many people between himself and the celestial horse, and distance as well. Same for things over by the podium or out in the crowd, from his current level vantage point there is just too many bodies in his way. Rodrick does have a good view of the Sheriff shooting down the rooftop goblin though.
Over closer to the stage, one of the goblins turns to the other with a laugh.
"Silly half ork. He think hooman babies is intelligent."
If the other goblin had a reply, it is swallowed as he yelps and barely manages to escape getting a face full of shield.
If Vicamros had thought to catch the goblins off guard he is out of luck. Both of the crafty little creatures react with vicious speed, stabbing and smashing at him as the paladin recovers his balance on the shifting logs beneath his feet. Vicamros feels pain as the steel scales of his armor are driven into his side by the hammering log that one goblin breaks as it smashes him. The other goblin opens up a wicked slash along the half ork's leg that bleeds deep red.
"Then you be food!" The goblin with the dogslicer shouts, licking Vicamros's blood from it's rusty blade.
The other goblin draws out his dogslicer, discarding the broken piece of wood. Moving with crafty dexterity, it slides to one side as it tries to get behind the tall half ork and divide his attention while getting around his shield. All the goblin manages to do is stumble and slip on the logs and he gets cut down by a quick slash of the half ork's scimitar.
Making a quick decision, Kestrel switches to the weapon that will let him reach almost anywhere in the Temple Festival Grounds, so long as people are not in the way. His hesitation proves unlucky and the arrow buries itself in the woodpile. If that doesn't break it, one of the combatants is probably going to step on it. The goblins and half ork finally engage in more forceful conversation with their weapons, and the debate turns badly for the half ork. One goblin breaks a wooden club on his side and then swiftly darts around while drawing a dogslicer. The other goblin slashes at the half ork's leg and blood spurts at an alarming rate. In response to this insult, Vicamros cuts him down cleanly.
The Sheriff fires at the glee filled goblin capering on the edge of the roof. The bolt sinks solidly into the goblin's shoulder, spinning the little creature around full circle. The goblin topples, kicking shingles free as it slides over the edge. If it had not had a crossbow bolt making one arm useless, he might have managed to hold on. Instead it falls screaming and lands with a dull splat right behind the two goblins engaged with Vicamros.
"Hooman's at least show a respect for other's young and old." The Half-Orc responds, his face set. Of course, trying to look the part of the stalwart Paladin is a lot easier when you're not having problems with the whole 'balancing on a log pile' bit. He tries to keep an eye on them both, as they come in he raises his shield but he wasn't fast enough.
The blow came in to his side fast and hard, catching the scales, and with a grunt of pain Vicamros felt it dig into his flesh in a painful way. The hit rocked him back and he started to lose his footing as the second goblin came in for his attack. If it wasn't for the lucky stumble, the goblin surely would have severed a major artery in his leg.
The cut came in fast from the second Goblin, almost surprisingly so, and took him off guard. It bit in deeply and left a gash across his skin, the dark red immediately seeping forth and down along his pants. He let out a cry of pain and finally found his footing again. Regaining it just in time for the Goblin to try and flank around him. It was a mistake that cost the Goblin his life.
As the Goblin moved, he took had problems trying to find his balance and maybe he didn't expect the Paladin to regain his footing so fast. Either way, the cut came in quickly over the shield, slicing into the Goblin with a fervor that was intent on stopping him from continuing his movement. "No!" He says, perhaps with a bit of regret as the cut was well placed.
Vic didn't have time to think though, worried that the other Goblin - the one who opened the vicious cut on his leg. His wrist twists after cutting through the first Goblin and he quickly whips the blade in a short arc toward the second.
The arrow flies straight and true into a woodpile. Ack. Pick that up. He could only watch the goblin he missed land a hit on the paladin. Damn.
Movement to his right. A goblin falls flailing from the temple rooftop. He sees the crossbow bolt and averts an envying stare from the Sheriff, muttering under his breath.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah . . ."
He sights again. Crowds. The longbow comes down slightly. Moments pass in hesitation. He frowns. What did Shalelu say? Oh, yeah . . .
The shot flashes across the square in virtually the same instant the longbow comes back up. Don't think.
He looks down and holds the longbow in one hand as he picks up his cutlass. With a flick of his wrist he cleans the blade and stares at the dirt mingling in reddish clumps next to a dead goblin. Kes looks away, shaking his head.
Rodrick just couldn't make heads or tails over the chaos that the festival had turned into. He had looked trying to see if there were any more goblins in his immediate area. His eyes spotted the goblin on the roof of the temple, and was about to take off towards it only to see it fall off the roof for some reason. Not sure where to head he decided to push himself through the crowd and head towards the phantom horse.
Vicamros manages to cut down the last goblin standing. Kestrel can save his arrow and collect his cutlass. Rodrick manages to find a dead goblin over at the end of the square and no sign of the person responsible for the celestial horse. Or the horse for that matter. If he asks anyone around, they will say a man was fighting the goblin and protecting the children, but he is gone now.
Over by the temple steps, Sheriff Hemlock is getting things organized. Wounded people are being directed into the temple. The three guardsmen at hand were sent in with orders to scour the temple for any signs of goblins hiding, they got onto the roof somehow after all.
People in the crowd are dispersing. Some are heading into the temple to pray or to help with wounded, others are heading for their homes. From your vantage point (the temple is on top of a bluff that overlooks much of the town) you can all see fires burning in several locations and hear the sounds of chaos. The goblins here have been stopped, but the town is not yet safe.
The festival goers are harried, some still in shock, others obviously worried about their homes or friends in other parts of the town. A large number of them head towards the temple to pray.
Rodrick finds himself singled out by the little girl who says rather loudly "That's the magic man that saved my sister."
Vicamros, standing tall in blood splattered armor, is praised as well for his actions, but from a distance.
Kestrel can try to avoid being seen by his employer but it won't work. Scarnetti's oldest son calls for him to come join the Sheriff up on the platform. The Sheriff asks for Vicamros to join as well.
(You may all have 'a couple of rounds' of free interaction before going to see what the Sheriff wants. Rodrick, I suggest you amble over that direction unless you want to go down into town looking for trouble on your own.)