Tweet
Canus came down the stairs of the Second Wind Inn and noticed the bartender frantically quenching flames with a bucket and a basin full of dish water.
"Your bar's on fire" Canus says deadpan as he yawns and makes his way outside to greet the morning light.
Canus makes his way toward the Sundren Trading Tier, as he normally does by morning light to haul some unrefined skins to the Spindle to fashion the week's tailored wares. As he approaches the rocky outcroppings of the Fork, he notices some bodies and a burning structure off to the side of the road.
"Damn BANDITS!" he shouts in his mind as he warily approaches the fallen victims to check for signs of life. As he leans over the first victim... a young woman of no more than 17 summers, he notices that she had been pelted by many smallish arrows and then hacked up with some sort of small and dull blade like a crude hunting knife. No blood pumps from the gouge in her neck and he sighs as he realizes she is gone.
*ssssssSSSSSHHZVITT! * An arrow loosed from behind a rocky jutting along the northward path of the Fork catches Canus by surprise and sticks in the rear portion of his leather hauberk just above the knee and just deep enough to draw blood.
Canus turns around to spot where the arrow was loosed from just as a hail of arrows barrages Canus and he is forced to crouch down and raise his sturdy shield up to cover his head and torso.
sssshhhhhzvitt!
sssshhHHZvitt! sssshhhhVITT!
sssshhhhhzv'doyng!
sssshhhhhzvitt!
sssshhhhhzv'thek! sssshhhhhzvitt!
ssssssSSSHZVITT!
An arrow nicks his right shoulder and Canus peers out from behind his shield to get a quick look at what he is up against.
"Spittelfist, GAH!" He quick-counts 8 or 10 of them.
The arrows keep coming in steady and Canus calls upon the earth, forest, and fire spirits to make his skin tough like tree-bark encased in stone and to make his spear like a fiery bolt from the heavens.... he charges.
"YAHHHHHHH", he hacks one down the middle splitting him from the top of his head to the middle of his chest with one downward thrust. Two Spittlefist goblins drop their bows and run back towards the Sharahan. Canus reaches at his belt for a handful of darts when he notices there are more Spittlefist charging from the path that leads to the Sharahan... a lot more!
Canus calls upon the fury of the sky to rain concentrated lightning hits all around him. He scorches all of the original archers and the Spittlefist charging from up the path stop in their tracks and look at each other wide-eyed. Then a big one comes running out from behind them yelling and barking orders
"CHARRRGE MAGGOT'S, or I'll have your GUTS for SUPPER while you WATCH me EAT!"
It was a nasty looking hobgoblin carrying a crude long blade and when his charge meets the startled goblins of his tribe, they join him in his charge.
Canus is himself rattled by the sheer number of Spittlefist that have spilled out onto the Pioneer's Way and he doesn't take any chances or toy with them at all. Wave after wave of lightning strikes and fireblasts are unleashed in a 50 foot radius until the last of his petrified and fleeing enemies are scorched beyond recognition.
Canus warily sneaks up the path enough to make sure there are no more along the road all the way to the edge of the Sharahan. He notices some crude and defiled camps on the west side of the road where they cannot easily be seen from the Poineer's way. The Spittlefist have evidently been set up here for at least a day or a few.
Canus makes his way west and north, bypassing the outskirts of Sundren and heading straight for the Viridale where he meets with the Keeper of the Grove and relays all that he has seen and done this morning.
"Your bar's on fire" Canus says deadpan as he yawns and makes his way outside to greet the morning light.
Canus makes his way toward the Sundren Trading Tier, as he normally does by morning light to haul some unrefined skins to the Spindle to fashion the week's tailored wares. As he approaches the rocky outcroppings of the Fork, he notices some bodies and a burning structure off to the side of the road.
"Damn BANDITS!" he shouts in his mind as he warily approaches the fallen victims to check for signs of life. As he leans over the first victim... a young woman of no more than 17 summers, he notices that she had been pelted by many smallish arrows and then hacked up with some sort of small and dull blade like a crude hunting knife. No blood pumps from the gouge in her neck and he sighs as he realizes she is gone.
*ssssssSSSSSHHZVITT! * An arrow loosed from behind a rocky jutting along the northward path of the Fork catches Canus by surprise and sticks in the rear portion of his leather hauberk just above the knee and just deep enough to draw blood.
Canus turns around to spot where the arrow was loosed from just as a hail of arrows barrages Canus and he is forced to crouch down and raise his sturdy shield up to cover his head and torso.
sssshhhhhzvitt!
sssshhHHZvitt! sssshhhhVITT!
sssshhhhhzv'doyng!
sssshhhhhzvitt!
sssshhhhhzv'thek! sssshhhhhzvitt!
ssssssSSSHZVITT!
An arrow nicks his right shoulder and Canus peers out from behind his shield to get a quick look at what he is up against.
"Spittelfist, GAH!" He quick-counts 8 or 10 of them.
The arrows keep coming in steady and Canus calls upon the earth, forest, and fire spirits to make his skin tough like tree-bark encased in stone and to make his spear like a fiery bolt from the heavens.... he charges.
"YAHHHHHHH", he hacks one down the middle splitting him from the top of his head to the middle of his chest with one downward thrust. Two Spittlefist goblins drop their bows and run back towards the Sharahan. Canus reaches at his belt for a handful of darts when he notices there are more Spittlefist charging from the path that leads to the Sharahan... a lot more!
Canus calls upon the fury of the sky to rain concentrated lightning hits all around him. He scorches all of the original archers and the Spittlefist charging from up the path stop in their tracks and look at each other wide-eyed. Then a big one comes running out from behind them yelling and barking orders
"CHARRRGE MAGGOT'S, or I'll have your GUTS for SUPPER while you WATCH me EAT!"
It was a nasty looking hobgoblin carrying a crude long blade and when his charge meets the startled goblins of his tribe, they join him in his charge.
Canus is himself rattled by the sheer number of Spittlefist that have spilled out onto the Pioneer's Way and he doesn't take any chances or toy with them at all. Wave after wave of lightning strikes and fireblasts are unleashed in a 50 foot radius until the last of his petrified and fleeing enemies are scorched beyond recognition.
Canus warily sneaks up the path enough to make sure there are no more along the road all the way to the edge of the Sharahan. He notices some crude and defiled camps on the west side of the road where they cannot easily be seen from the Poineer's way. The Spittlefist have evidently been set up here for at least a day or a few.
Canus makes his way west and north, bypassing the outskirts of Sundren and heading straight for the Viridale where he meets with the Keeper of the Grove and relays all that he has seen and done this morning.
