The flames crawl across the floor like a thousand angry fire ants ;devouring everything in its path. Those closest to the burning table feel beads of sweat drift to the surface of his or her skin. The fire dances a seductive reflection in the eyes of the people around the Fat Man.
The Fat Man Ronak who cannot be budged. His fat belly and rolls of fat are like trying to grip quicksand.
Q'wyn takes stock of the situation. To him the problem remains the same. The building is on fire, the fat man is near death and we need to get him out. Politely, yet forcefully Q'wyn calls out to those around him, the words flowing effortlessly off his tongue, tinged with determination and honesty with the point being, "Archers be damned, we need to get out of the building and we need to try to get the fat man out alive. Alion, do you have a spell that can help him?"
Maybe it is Q'wyn's word, or perhaps he was destined to him anyway, the Tribesman puts down the boy Brind'amour. "stay close and do not stray. Stay with me at all times."
The Tribesman approaches the Fat Man, bends down, puts his arms under the Fat Man's armpits and lifts...
Outside in the snow in the front of the building...
The white snow continues to fall, the fat flakes an odd contrast with the streaming yellow moonlight and the bloodlets dripping from the dead Triplet on the roof.
The beautiful woman offers the shroud back to her dwarven ally as she speaks to him in dwarven, "Remmy... take the cloak. Save the fat man. I need him alive. Go. No, I'm fine. And thank you."
She said she's fine, but the pain in her eyes suggest otherwise. The beautiful woman looks more like a beautiful vampire. Her face has been drained of color. In the dark of the alley she blends into the shadows now making herself a very difficult target. She slowly and painfully cuts the shafts free of the arrows that pierced her, but leaves in the heads so as not to bleed. She hopes the cleric makes it out of the building.
The dwarf does not leave her side, standing protectively over her his sword at the ready.
Radegast mumbles words to himself that ends with, "Hey, some of us live in our mobile breweries. It is warm, safe, and filled with beer. I live a simple life.
Inside by the window...
The flames from the table chew up the wood, nipping at Alion's heels, singeing his boots ever so slightly.
Looking outside the injured Voss sees certain freedom. He checks for danger then climbs out the window, landing softly in the snow. His weapons are drawn, his eyes alert for any additional danger. The pain from his wounds continues to slow him down.
Alion calls out to Q'wyn, "I have nothing that can help at this moment, my friend Q'wyn. Meet us around front." His face is grief stricken at not being able to assist. He climbs out the window after Voss, streaks of blood creating a neat path behind him.
Voss quickly plows through the snow, his strong legs driving him forward. This area has less snow, serving as a path to the stables where the horses, mules and transport are held.
Alion moves out the window, his movements not nearly as fluid as Voss's. He moves quickly into position behind Voss, hesitating only to pick up the sacks tossed out earlier.
Outside in the snow in front of the building...
Elbeneth scans the immediate area for the last Triplet or other trouble, on the way.
Inara says to Radegast, "My dear boy, I live the most complicated life possible. Inara. Primary dwarven ore dealer for New England. I would love a ride with you back to the Tara Sheridan to my suite. Perhaps you could help me identify a small drawing someone gave to me? It's supposedly dwarven, but I've never seen it, and I know dwarves."
Elbeneth realizes there is no trouble though, he yells to people still unseen, "Get the fire brigade or this whole block will go up in flames." He approaches Inara, putting his bow away.
"Miss, can you walk?" Not allowing her to fully answer reaches out to drag her away from the fire.
Her dwarven protector steps menacingly toward Elbeneth. The halfling takes a step back, raising his hands in a "mea culpa" gesture.
The woman shoulders the bow she took from inside and moves to the body of the archer that fell by the dwarf's sword. She looks through the body for papers and intelligence. There is a bastard sword and a half-filled quiver, though nothing else of note as his bow was shattered. She does not appear to be interested in any money the bandit may be carrying.
Radegast replies to her, "By the way, my mobile brewery is parked out back. Care to bring your Dwarven friend along to share a couple of pints? I trained under a dwarf in the brewing arts, so I assure you, you will both find my wares familiar and delicious."
Inside by the fire...
The Tribesman's veins seemingly push through his skin as he strains under the weight of the Fat Man Ronak. How strong is the Tribesman? Strong enough to start dragging the Fat Man away from the fire, succeeding where four others failed.
Q'wyn grabs a leg, Haas grabs the other. They get the Ronak off the ground, quickly working in tandem, heading toward the door, the boy Brind'Amour trailing like a puppy dog.
Outside by the window...
Voss continues around the side of the building, creeping around toward the front, using the side of the building as cover. Alion follows close behind, no weapon drawn, though certainly a man practiced in the art of stealth. Whenever Alion leans against the wall he leaves a hand print of blood. The bar wench that Alion threw out the window joins them, shivering in the ice cold.
Inside near the fire, heading toward the door...
The fire continues to grow quickly, snapping up everything in site.
The Tribesman and the group gets Ronak toward the door, still struggling under the man's girth.
Outside in the snow in the front of the building...
Inara eyes the corpse still on the rooftop, as she cuts away the sleeves and gown section of her ruined robes until there's little more than a sexy mini skirt left.
To Radegast she says, "Could you please hold what's left of my robes? I have to climb a building now. And no staring too long at my butt while I climb." She gives him a wink as she looks for some handholds.
Radegast begins to walk away, determined to get to his mule and belongings. Elbeneth's directly in his path and Radegast has a perfect view when it happens. Elbeneth's eyes roll skyward, the halfling clutching a spot where the arrow entered his body. Even in the moonlight, between the snow flakes Radegast can the green outline clearly.
Poison from the spot where an arrow hit the halfling. Elbeneth collapses to the ground unconscious, his breathing laboring almost immediately.
At that moment the Tribesman and the rest of the group make it out of the front out of breath from the exertion. The get clear of the doorway, stepping over Elbeneth's gear to get there.
An out of breath Haas the bartender says in a breath barely above a whisper, "The town will blame you all for this."
DM Notes:
- That actually took two rounds. So the place is six rounds from collapsing. The part where Brind'Amour trails like a puppy dog is move 7 map. Move 8 is the end of the turn. Yellow on the map denotes the spreading of the fire
- Some map orientation and surrounding area. The top of the map is North. This area is surrounded by various work shops, trade places, establishments, et al. The stables with your horses, mules, et al is around to the South-east side. If you went due West you would eventually hit the cemetary. The area has had several feet of snowfall so it isn't like people have been moving around a lot, nor is everything cleared out particularly well.
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