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"It's just that sort of thing that..." Dulirn's lecture was cut short by the cry of "Bree-at!"

"By Sezrekan's bones!" Dulirn jumps, taking in the surrounding goblins. "Urir, hang on," he says, grabbing the shorter being by the back of his shirt and mutters a few arcane words...

((Not that I'm trying to push dice use onto anyone else... I simply enjoy the unpredictability of it. So... I'll roll and follow up with a second post for the outcome of his spell... ))

A bluish disc of force appears beneath the pair, lifting Dulirn and Urir both upwards, nearly 20 feet. Dulirn appeared calm, but Urir's arms flailed around wildly, as if trying to swim in the air. The magic took them quickly out of range of the Very Sharp Sticks, but a crossbow bolt still caught Dulirn across the arm, causing the pair to "fall" nearly a foot before the wizard got a hold of the magic again and steadied them.

"Go away, goblins!" Urir cries, though his voice sounds more panicky than forceful.

"Indeed! I give you one chance to flee before you are all slaughtered by the might of Sezrekan the Elder!" says Dulirn.

Renna raised an eyebrow as she saw the woman depart, but did not speak further. Still, she wondered who in their right mind would waste a perfectly good liver, which would have tasted so nice roasted over a fire with a bit of herbs and roots. Oh well, it was her loss. Hopefully her gods would appreciate the meal instead.

In the meantime, the huntress finished stripping the corpse of the young boar. Now finding herself alone with the exception of Niya, she didn't see why she should make camp right there by the pool. In a short while she had a small fire built with the meat roasting over a spit, filling the area with a rich smell and a flickering orange light.

Typically the bear would have sat near the fire watching the forthcoming meal expectantly, but she barely seemed to notice. Instead, her ears were perked up and she was sniffing at the air upwind from the fire. She let out another low growl.

Renna glanced over at the bear and spoke to her in her own language. "Niya? What is it?"

The bear did not answer, but took off running into the woods, following the sounds of fighting. A good distance behind her, the huntress cursed audibly and grabbed her spear, chasing after her with a loping stride.

(By the Risen, you guys are fast.)

The Eye glares at the chaos, leering into the forest from the tower posted nearby; a strange structure to the foolish mortals, no doubt, but quite a useful one to the First Fallen.

Deep within the pits of the Netherworld, the ancient figure, right eye glaring bright while left sits cold and dark, rests upon his great throne, lost into a trance. His scowls shake the foundations of his world, a hot and desolate land of flame and death, as his eye above shifts and turns, watching the events unfold. Clearly, sending an assassin to poison the High King was a perfect element to ruin the clean broth Aitherion had created, and add a little anarchy here and there. He smiles to himself at this though, ignoring, for a time, one of his generals entering the Observation Chamber of Mandobar.

“My Lord,” Artok the Elder speaks, “the last tower is almost in place. Soon, the portals will be prepared to open, the armies shall be ready to strike, and the towers shall be ignited at your command. I’ve no doubt this will be a swift victory, so long as the Pemberton line is kept from this knowledge.”

The Eye fades on the surface tower, briefly returning as a blazing orb of Darkefire in his left socket.

(Whatever Netharan says, unless specified, is in his ancient tongue, translated for roleplay purposes)

“Excellent,” The Darke Lord smiles cruelly, “then we shall begin the first testing of our newest weapon. How comes the Helldar?”

Elunaria sensed the evil and prayed to the evil gods to ask for there gift. So she could do a ritual. It was hard and required sacred objects from the gods of evil. Due to the amount of power needed for her to do it correctly.

While Dulirn's flowery language in the Common tongue was lost on most of them, Urir's instruction was clear enough, though not immediately heeded.
The display of magic seemed to have their attention, though.
"Booyagh!" shouted a few goblins,
("He's a mage!")
Some seemed to retreat a bit, afraid, and not expecting such power, but the clan boss, known as Boss Very Sharp Stick, was not backing down.
"Tul'og breen! Zibr'og, yap!"
("Make ranged attacks! Don't flee, be brave and foolish!")
With these instructions, the clan hardened, and two more crossbow bolts fired up at them, while four goblins, including Click, threw their sticks.

((ignore the rolls, I did that incorrectly))

((Attacks! At both Dulirn and Urir, indiscriminately. Crossbow bolts are much more effective than Very Sharp Sticks)

Both crossbow shots whizzed harmlessly by, the aim way off. One stick impaled Urir's leg, and, by stroke of chance, Click managed to successfully hurl his at Dulirn, which jabbed him briefly before falling away.
Shots were frantically reloaded, while goblins armed with melee blades waited at the ready for the two of them to come down close enough to hit.

Urir howled in pain as the stick impaled his leg. But managed to stop flailing about long enough to grab his flint and steel from his pocket and chuck it down at the goblin who'd stuck him.

"You've been warn... omppp," the wizard broke off as Click's stick briefly jabbed the arm holding up Urir. He nearly dropped his faithful companion, grip slipping on the back of Urir's shirt until he only had him by the collar.

In hindsight, Levitation may have been a poor plan. The wizard couldn't hold the spell and maneuver fast enough to dodge the projectiles. Sooner or later, one of the goblins was going to get lucky, but he also couldn't attempt to cast another spell while he was holding onto this one. Below them and slightly to the left was a thick pine bough that appeared sturdy enough to hold their weight and was still a good 15 feet above the ground. "Hang on, Urir!" as if the other had any choice in the matter. He took them just over the bough until Urir could grab onto it, hugging it for dear life, then Dulirn dropped himself onto it as well, hanging onto the trunk as the branch dipped and swayed under their combined weight.

There was no time to waste! New crossbow bolts would be coming their way and he begins chanting again, obviously preparing some new spell...

“My Lord,” Artok interjected, “it seems that one of the mortals seeks your presence, or at least a part of your power.”

“I feel her call,” Netharan rasped, “and I see her power flowing into the realm. But it is strange that a mortal who follows me not should ask for my blessing.” He paused a moment, considering the paths laid before him. “Perhaps she shall be a boon to me,” he concluded, “a connection to the Overworld. Very well, Demilord, your wish for power is fulfilled. Go forth, in my name, and bring destruction to all who cross you.”

He lifted his skeletal hand, a beam of power slithering through the Eye and to her position. All she had to do was accept this power, and she would have his blessing.

Excited jabbering rose from the attack party as their prey took a hit and fell to the tree. Something was dropped onto Rat-katch, who yelped and stood there dizzy for a moment. Click hurried to pick up the projectile.
Two more crossbow bolts were fired, but those who had thrown their Very Sharp Sticks were faced with the foreseeable issue of not having weapons anymore. One scrabbled in the dirt to get her thrown stick back. Another elected to lob a small stone up at them.
Two more threw sticks that they hadn't before, after seeing the success of the others.
Click clutched the flint and steel that Urir had dropped and examined it. Quickly, he recognised it, it wasn't rare or advanced tech, but it might come in handy anyways. He stowed it away in his satchel and looked up at the Booyagh, fearful of his next move.

The pebble fell far short of its mark, and the Very Sharp Sticks met resistance in the leafy branches. A well-aimed bolt from Drez, however, hit Dulirn in the side, potentially causing damage to a rib or something, and spraying blood onto goblins below.

Dulirn is nearly finished with his conjurations when the crossbow bolt slams into a rib. "...and bring forth... ah...errrrrr ... a swarm to harry them!" He forces out the last bits in between pained breaths as he grips the tree trunk tightly in an effort not to fall.


((Having too much fun rolling the bones! 11+ for success. 1 or 2 = misfire! Will follow up after roll...))

Unfortunately, the bolt interrupted his incantation enough that the spell does not complete as it should have.

A thousand tiny shimmering hornet eggs manifest in mid-air, then seem to fizzle, each falling to the ground and causing no further harm. "HATCH! HATCH!" the wizard cries in frustration, but it is for naught.

"We're done for...!" moans Urir in despair.

Dulirn held one hand over his rib where the bolt has ripped through his robes and felt his fingers grow warm and wet with blood. "One last try..." he says with an air of finality, murmuring yet another incantation, refusing to give in to the possibility of defeat...

The crossbow wielders loaded and fired off two more shots, this seeming to be the more successful way. The rest, though, stood around, unsure. One of them chucked another rock, excited.
"Cogtul tree!" yelled the goblin boss. When nobody immediately moved, he yelled louder, "Cogt'lAT tree!"
("Get up the tree! Get up the tree, NOW!")
Goblins began running towards the tree-trunk and trying to swarm up it, crushing the summoned hornet eggs underfoot in the process. Click did not think that clambering single file towards the enemy was a great strategy, so he lingered towards the back of the crowd, watching.

(Climb check: from 0-11, how many goblins make any progress in climbing the tree. 11 is all those attempting. A negative result means that many goblins are unable to act next time around.)

One crossbow bolt embedded itself in Urir's gut, while one hit the tree trunk, and the pebble was dropped on its wielder's toes in the chaos.
With all the goblins crowded around the base of the tree, all trying to find hand- or footholds, stepping on top of one another, sliding down the slippery bark, scratching and squabbling with one another for a place, none of them could get close to being off the ground and being able to stab their quarry. Most, in fact, ended up prone on the ground, or with someone's foot in their face, or with someone's teeth in their foot. It became clear through the aggravated jabbering that this was less than a professional outfit. Only three were stood back from the tree: Boss Very Sharp Stick, Drez, the better crossbowman, and Click, who sighed in exasperation at the scene before him, and wiped some blood from his spectacles.

She accepted the blessing. And thanked him. She opened her eyes. She went to gather sacred objects she was going to destroy a curtain place full of goblins and evil magic. But having this much power was new to her.

The smell of blood was growing stronger as the bear raced through the trees, her partner close behind. Up ahead, she could see something--actually several somethings--scrambling into canopy above, and she let out another roar. When she reached the tree, the bear reared up onto her hind legs, nearly seven feet tall, and swiped a massive black-clawed paw at the little creatures in the branches.

"Niya! Wa'nak!" Renna shouted as she caught up to the bear. Still growling, Niya fell back and began pacing at the bottom of the tree, but she did not attack again.

Once she was sure her partner was unharmed, the woman looked around and saw the three strange little creatures nearby, and another odd pair off in the distance, one of whom looked like a human man. Her eyes narrowed. Surely he would not dare to attack creatures smaller than himself?

To be safe, she turned to the nearest of the little people, the one with strange crystal circles in front of his eyes. "Are you all right?" she asked, gesturing to the human man with her spear. "Is that man bothering you?"

As the bear raced onto the scene, Dulirn thought, just momentarily, that perhaps his summon spell had worked after all... just not as he'd planned. But no... the bear was no summoned creature, or at least not his summoned creature, he corrected himself as he saw the woman bounding after it.

Barely had he had time to register those facts when Urir made a terrible cry of pain and lost his hold on the branch as the crossbow bolt hit him. The wizard's eyes widened, immediately abandoning the spell incantation upon his lips in favor of the first one that might save Urir.

((Rolling... 11+ for success. 1=Misfire. Follow-up post forthcoming... ))

Urir is suddenly wrapped in a wispy, featherlike aura - a faint yellow glow and his descent slows immediately, saving him from a very painful impact with the ground.

There is still the problem of the goblins though... plus the newcomer, a wildcard in this struggle. With Urir floating down lightly toward the goblins, Dulirn abandons his attempts at magic and starts scaling down the tree. Maybe there is just the slightest chance he can get down and knock a few heads before they can recover from their pitiful attempts at climbing the tree...