The halfling Elbeneth moves first.
He jumps to his feet and readies an arrow in one swift motion. He partially kneels behind his chair to the left of the door heading out. The arrow is not pointed at anyone in particular.
The Tribesman pulls his sword across his lap, picks up his mead and kicks the table in front of him hard, pushing it forward. He seems otherwise unaffected and watches the scene unfold in front of him with a slight look of amusement on his face.
Voss jumps up, his long sword "Storm-biter" drawn and flashed at T'alon and his dwarves.
"Wanted or not how DARE you draw blood in a place of respect and honor for a fallen friend. What kind of sacrilege is this? Your business here may have been Framingham's and should have been taken outside, but it belongs to all of us now, and you would explain yourself or you, your blood thirsty companions and any number of hired hands in this room will be evicted at sword point so we may finish our feast in peace."
Alion remains seated, his hands neatly folded on the table. His eyes calmly survey the scene. His neck muscle tenses slightly, a sign that the body is constricted...ready to strike.
Qwyn grabs the bar wench and moves behind Voss and Alion. He whispers something to Voss as he passes. No one else can hear it.
At the outbreak of the surprising violence and attack, the female stands up with surprising speed. Her dwarven bodyguard draws a very wicked looking two handed long sword as they exchange positions, placing her in the rear.
Somewhat surprisingly, the female is now also armed. She has drawn a short sword off the hip of the dwarf. She mutters in dwarven, though loud enough that those around her can hear.
The Triplets Three move in silent unison. One leaps atop the table, landing in a tight crouch position. The others flanked outward. Their arrows are knocked and much like the Elbeneth they are forever switching targets.
The man in the black cloak (who from now on I will refer to by name - Radegast) is on his feet the instant the dwarf’s blade moves towards the fat man’s ample neck.
Elbeneth's eyes go back and forth between the dwarven guard who struck the Fat Man and Radegast.
Pulses race. Time continues to both speed up and slow down as blood reaches the inner ear. Nerves reach breaking points. The comments and noises of movement overlap on each other.
The beautiful woman proclaims,"I assume you have a writ of execution from the Earl of
Framingham? Or was that just a murder we all just witnessed? Because I doubt any of us here feel very keen in letting a murderer or his lackeys run free..."
T'alon chuckles. He is confident. He definitely believes he has some sort of advantage. A normal man would sweat, or show signs of nervousness. He is calm, almost un-nervingly calm.
The Triplet's Three continues to move their arrow aims among different groups. Eyes darting continually.
Radegast, in heartbeat’s time, he has backed up and is standing in front of the Chamberpot Room door, pushing the young boys back inside--
--It is as far as he gets. The boy who does not have Donal's eyes lunges at Radegast's back. Mid-leap the boy transforms into a clay creature the size of a human. It looks like this - a homunculus.
It jumps onto Radegast's back and digs its claws into his neck (7 hp). The blows knocks Radegast onto the ground
Radegast has not even had time to pull out his weapon.
The boy with Donal's eyes, he stumbles backward into the Chamberpot room.
"No! No! No!" his tiny voice squeaks.
It is a near free-for all. T'alons actions have taken you by surprise, though not for long.
The Fat Man wheeze on the floor. Blood continuing to spurt out. His hand is on his neck trying to keep life from leaving him.
T'alon, you do not realize it until now, has palmed an object. He tosses it underhand at the tribesman.
The second he silvery bolt of force of energy emanates from the tribesman's finger tips. Magic missiles, the aim is true. Not enough to stop T'alons toss but to hinder it.
In mid-air the figurine expands to it's full size. Large. Scaly. Red with a spiked tail. It smashes into the table the tribesman kicked - thus moving the table back to its original spot. Or it would have been the original spot.
A drake (see picture.)
The table is reduced to smithereens. The drake stands on its two hind legs and lets out a loud HIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSS.
The blood continues to pound. The adrenaline peaks. The true battle begins.
DM Note
I'm going to name the creatures as it is easier. I'll mention privately whether a person knows anything about the creature. Also I'll mark HP taken in the moves as we go along. Easier for me to track.
This is what the map looks like now
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