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The group is quick to act, or quicker at least than their enemy, and each moves to best leverage their position. Neve is on the ground, moving in a low crawl through the undegrowth with an ease that speaks to great experience in avoiding the notice of those taller than her. The area around the tower may be clear of trees and tall shrubs but there is little that can push back the vines and grasses that coat the marshy ground and that provides exactly the kind of cover the small one needs to get close. She can read the warriors intent and judge easily where he will end up by the time she is ready to strike, so sliding along the muck until she is behind his intended destination proves simple.

Sister Clairese keeps her position, calling upon the blessings of her paired gods to aid in the situation. She feels their touch as she summons their aid, a soft brush against each cheek as though grazed by invisible lips, and the power flows out from her as it is molded by her will. The lizardwoman, having put a good stretch between herself and the witch, turns and lurches forward but only clears a step before a blazing red sword pops into existence beside her. It swings high in an arc toward the shamans head and she ducks to the right with a small stumble backwards, inches of air all that keeps her scales intact as the weapon misses and then spins to right itself to another swipe. She hisses, a soundless act of defiance, sparing a glance at the witch before turning her focus back to the weapon and pulling a bone-hilted dagger from within the leather and furs draped over her waist. Faced with no easy escape, she seems resigned to joining the fight rather than let the magical blade strike her as she flees.

The warrior charges in, his steps awkwardly loping but ideal in stride for moving across the wet and muck-coated ground of the swamp. He skids to a stop in front of Val as she calls upon genuine, undeniable magic. The stick in her hands twists as life floods it, old wood flush with new strength as vines writhe along it. The lizardman's eyes narrow and Val can read the concern in those black pools, but it doesn't dissuade his intent. He brings the fire-hardened black wood club up in a wide arc, under Val's defense to strike hard against the metal rings of her armor. The blow is blunted but the elf's ribs protest the impact as the blow rocks through her midsection. Pulling the club back, he keeps it moving in a circular swing as he hunches down and snarls in her face.

"Witch. Demon. I will take your head and your magics back to my kalak. I will write my glory in your blood." Wicke's arrow bites into the ground a half-foot from where Neve is crouched behind the warrior, but if the lizardman has noticed either the smallfolk or the fool's attack, he gives no indication. Neve is as well-positioned as she could hope to be for making an effective strike against the creature, only a thick hide coat and the warrior's own scales standing between her and success.

The shaman's escape has been halted by Clairese's spiritual weapon, forcing her to put her back to danger and run or join the fight. She will do the latter. She remains in the radius of the Silence and will need to move out of it this round in order to cast.

Neve is positioned for a proper back attack against the warrior and unnoticed by the enemies. Wicke and Clairese are still hidden, as well.

The warrior hits Val with an 18 for 6 damage.

Warrior - Init 2; AC 15; 16/16 HP. Intention is to strike Val again this turn.

Shaman - Init 5; AC 13; 10/10 HP. Intention is to move away from Val to clear the Silence, and draw her dagger. She cannot clear the Silence with a half move so no attack this round.

The group is quick to act, or quicker at least than their enemy, and each moves to best leverage their position. Neve is on the ground, moving in a low crawl through the undegrowth with an ease that speaks to great experience in avoiding the notice of those taller than her. The area around the tower may be clear of trees and tall shrubs but there is little that can push back the vines and grasses that coat the marshy ground and that provides exactly the kind of cover the small one needs to get close. She can read the warriors intent and judge easily where he will end up by the time she is ready to strike, so sliding along the muck until she is behind his intended destination proves simple.

Sister Clairese keeps her position, calling upon the blessings of her paired gods to aid in the situation. She feels their touch as she summons their aid, a soft brush against each cheek as though grazed by invisible lips, and the power flows out from her as it is molded by her will. The lizardwoman, having put a good stretch between herself and the witch, turns and lurches forward but only clears a step before a blazing red sword pops into existence in front of her. It swings high in an arc toward the shamans head and she ducks to the right with a small stumble backwards, inches of air all that keeps her scales intact as the weapon misses and then spins to right itself to another swipe. She hisses, a soundless act of defiance, sparing a glance back at the witch before turning her focus back to the weapon and pulling a bone-hilted dagger from within the leather and furs draped over her waist. Faced with no easy escape, she seems resigned to joining the fight.

The warrior charges in, his steps awkwardly loping but ideal in stride for moving across the wet and muck-coated ground of the swamp. He skids to a stop in front of Val as she calls upon genuine, undeniable magic. The stick in her hands twists as life floods it, old wood flush with new strength as vines writhe along it. The lizardman's eyes narrow and Val can read the concern in those black pools, but it doesn't dissuade his intent. He brings the fire-hardened black wood club up in a wide arc, under Val's defense to strike hard against the metal rings of her armor. The blow is blunted but the elf's ribs protest the impact as the blow rocks through her midsection. Pulling the club back, he keeps it moving in a circular swing as he hunches down and snarls in her face.

"Witch. Demon. I will take your head and your magics back to my kalak. I will write my glory in your blood." Wicke's arrow bites into the ground a half-foot from where Neve is crouched behind the warrior, but if the lizardman has noticed either the smallfolk or the fool's attack, he gives no indication. Neve is as well-positioned as she could hope to be for making an effective strike against the creature, only a thick hide coat and the warrior's own scales standing between her and success.

The shaman's escape has been halted by Clairese's spiritual weapon, forcing her to put her back to danger or join the fight. She will do the latter. She remains in the radius of the Silence and will need to move out of it this round in order to cast.

Neve is positioned for a proper back attack against the warrior and unnoticed by the enemies. Wicke and Clairese are still hidden, as well.

The warrior hits Val with an 18 for 6 damage.

Warrior - Init 2; AC 15; 16/16 HP. Intention is to strike Val again this turn.

Shaman - Init 5; AC 13; 10/10 HP. Intention is to move away from Val to clear the Silence, and draw her dagger. She cannot clear the Silence with a half move so no attack this round.

The group is quick to act, or quicker at least than their enemy, and each moves to best leverage their position. Neve is on the ground, moving in a low crawl through the undegrowth with an ease that speaks to great experience in avoiding the notice of those taller than her. The area around the tower may be clear of trees and tall shrubs but there is little that can push back the vines and grasses that coat the marshy ground and that provides exactly the kind of cover the small one needs to get close. She can read the warriors intent and judge easily where he will end up by the time she is ready to strike, so sliding along the muck until she is behind his intended destination proves simple.

Sister Clairese keeps her position, calling upon the blessings of her paired gods to aid in the situation. She feels their touch as she summons their aid, a soft brush against each cheek as though grazed by invisible lips, and the power flows out from her as it is molded by her will. The lizardwoman, having put a good stretch between herself and the witch, turns and lurches forward but only clears a step before a blazing red sword pops into existence in front of her. It swings high in an arc toward the shamans head and she ducks to the right with a small stumble backwards, inches of air all that keeps her scales intact as the weapon misses and then spins to right itself to another swipe. She hisses, a soundless act of defiance, sparing a glance back at the witch before turning her focus back to the weapon and pulling a bone-hilted dagger from within the leather and furs draped over her waist. Faced with no easy escape, she seems resigned to joining the fight.

The warrior charges in, his steps awkwardly loping but ideal in stride for moving across the wet and muck-coated ground of the swamp. He skids to a stop in front of Val as she calls upon genuine, undeniable magic. The stick in her hands twists as life floods it, old wood flush with new strength as vines writhe along it. The lizardman's eyes narrow and Val can read the concern in those black pools, but it doesn't dissuade his intent. He brings the fire-hardened black wood club up in a wide arc, under Val's defense to strike hard against the metal rings of her armor. The blow is blunted but the elf's ribs protest the impact as the blow rocks through her midsection. Pulling the club back, he keeps it moving in a circular swing as he hunches down and snarls in her face.

"Witch. Demon. I will take your head and your magics back to my kalak. I will write my glory in your blood." Wicke's arrow bites into the ground a half-foot from where Neve is crouched behind the warrior, but if the lizardman has noticed either the smallfolk or the fool's attack, he gives no indication. Neve is as well-positioned as she could hope to be for making an effective strike against the creature, only a thick hide coat and the warrior's own scales standing between her and success.

The shaman's escape has been halted by Clairese's spiritual weapon, forcing her to put her back to danger or join the fight. She will do the latter. She remains in the radius of the Silence and will need to move out of it this round in order to cast.

Neve is positioned for a proper back attack against the warrior and unnoticed by the enemies. Wicke and Clairese are still hidden, as well.

The warrior hits Val with an 18 for 6 damage.

Warrior - Init 2; AC 15; 16/16 HP. Intention is to strike Val again this turn.

Shaman - Init 5; AC 13; 10/10 HP. Intention is to move away from Val to clear the Silence, and draw her sling. She cannot clear the Silence with a half move so no attack this round.

The group is quick to act, or quicker at least than their enemy, and each moves to best leverage their position. Neve is on the ground, moving in a low crawl through the undegrowth with an ease that speaks to great experience in avoiding the notice of those taller than her. The area around the tower may be clear of trees and tall shrubs but there is little that can push back the vines and grasses that coat the marshy ground and that provides exactly the kind of cover the small one needs to get close. She can read the warriors intent and judge easily where he will end up by the time she is ready to strike, so sliding along the muck until she is behind his intended destination proves simple.

Sister Clairese keeps her position, calling upon the blessings of her paired gods to aid in the situation. She feels their touch as she summons their aid, a soft brush against each cheek as though grazed by invisible lips, and the power flows out from her as it is molded by her will. The lizardwoman, having put a good stretch between herself and the witch, turns and lurches forward but only clears a step before a blazing red sword pops into existence in front of her. It swings high in an arc toward the shamans head and she ducks to the right with a small stumble backwards, inches of air all that keeps her scales intact as the weapon misses and then spins to right itself to another swipe. She hisses, a soundless act of defiance, sparing a glance back at the witch before turning her focus back to the weapon and pulling a bone-hilted dagger from within the leather and furs draped over her waist. Faced with no easy escape, she seems resigned to joining the fight.

The warrior charges in, his steps awkwardly loping but ideal in stride for moving across the wet and muck-coated ground of the swamp. He skids to a stop in front of Val as she calls upon genuine, undeniable magic. The stick in her hands twists as life floods it, old wood flush with new strength as vines writhe along it. The lizardman's eyes narrow and Val can read the concern in those black pools, but it doesn't dissuade his intent. He brings the fire-hardened black wood club up in a wide arc, under Val's defense to strike hard against the metal rings of her armor. The blow is blunted but the elf's ribs protest the impact as the blow rocks through her midsection. Pulling the club back, he keeps it moving in a circular swing as he hunches down and snarls in her face.

"Witch. Demon. I will take your head and your magics back to my kalak. I will write my glory in your blood." Wicke's arrow bites into the ground a half-foot from where Neve is crouched behind the warrior, but if the lizardman has noticed either the smallfolk or the fool's attack, he gives no indication. Neve is as well-positioned as she could hope to be for making an effective strike against the creature, only a thick hide coat and the warrior's own scales standing between her and success.

The shaman's escape has been halted by Clairese's spiritual weapon, forcing her to put her back to danger or join the fight. She will do the latter. She remains in the radius of the Silence and will need to move out of it this round in order to cast.

Neve is positioned for a proper back attack against the warrior and unnoticed by the enemies. Wicke and Clairese are still hidden, as well.

The warrior hits Val with an 18 for 6 damage.

Warrior - AC 15; 16/16 HP. Intention is to strike Val again this turn.

Shaman - AC 13; 10/10 HP. Intention is to move away from Val to clear the Silence, and draw her sling. She cannot clear the Silence with a half move so no attack this round.