Back and ready to Rock (Grail)

Two minutes to get dressed, most of that time taken up with her scalemail coat. Another to hide her pack sufficiently so that she could be on the move.

Grail Hillfire entered the fight for Sandpoint later than some, but more prepared than most.

Her crossbow sang sweet, staccato songs of ****. Each bolt seemed blessed by the Dwarven pantheon, finding its mark in a goblin skull.

Grail was fairly sure she’d killed at least a few of the goblins that had cornered her while she’d been naked and bathing. Just thinking of that was equal parts embarrassing and frustrating. If she’d had balls, they would have been utterly blue. Maybe if they hadn’t turned out to be part of a murderous raid that threatened to burn down the entire town, she could have played it off as just another odd encounter - she’d fucked a tree last night, for fuck’s sake. But no, they’d all rubbed their tiny little cocks in and on her, leaving her warmed up with no satisfaction, then ran off to kill people or something.

So she didn’t feel an ounce of guilt punching holes in them with her crossbow.

Goblin heads were an awful like the training targets she’d grown up shooting at. It came fairly natural to her.

She’d lost count somewhere in the teens of how many she’d killed - she couldn’t rely on her count of bolts in her quiver since she’d been able to recover some of them on the move. Still, for the past ten minutes or so, Grail had stalked the shadows of the east end of town, putting an end to every goblin that set foot on the streets of Lowtown beneath the shadow of the Cathedral.

Running into the Sheriff had been a surprise, but he’d just nodded to her as she was pulling a bolt out of a goblin’s skull and asked if she’d head Uptown while he delivered the three townsfolk he was with to their home.

So she went up the escarpment, climbing the twenty feet of craggy rockface easily, and skulked around the side of the Cathedral. The shouting grew louder as she rounded the southern wing of the building, and she stepped into a running battle.

Several goblins had charged a small militia of townsfolk on the steps of the Cathedral, while across the town square another melee was currently happening. Grail snapped off a quick shot at one of the goblins on the steps, then took a knee next to an overturned barrel and went to work. Seven bolts, five hits, and the Cathedral steps were clear - she’d had to pull a couple of shots as the townsfolk were almost as chaotic as the goblins in their fighting.

Then the laughing started, and she saw Goblin Magic for the first time.

It was disgusting.

Grail cranked back her crossbow string, watching as the purple-mouthed goblin slobbering magic ooze closed in on the man howling with laughter.

“Nope,” Grail muttered, shouldering her crossbow and steadying it on the barrel. “Not today you freak.”

The knife went up for a killing stroke, and Grail made a split second decision and took of the goblin’s arm at the elbow. She could have killed it outright, but there was a chance it still could have landed a grievous wound on the man by accident. So she got rid of the knife.

The townsfolk from the cathedral steps let loose a battle cry as they charged across the town square towards the other fight, trampling the wailing, purple-mouthed spellcaster on the way. Things seemed to wrap up quickly over in the melee as Grail armed her crossbow and swaggered across the square to the man she had saved, who had rolled onto his back.

He was staring up at the sky when she stood over him, and he gave her an odd look. “It’s you.”

Grail snorted. “Yeah, I’m me. Who are you? Do we know each other?”

“No, no,” he said, still on his back. “I just saw you early today and thought you were stunning. You still are.”

“Alright, loverboy,” she sighed. “Time to stand up, I think that goblin may have broken something in your head.”

He did as she said, rolling onto his knees and standing. “No, I’m being honest,” he said as he went. “You are… wow.”

“I’ve got bad news for you, loverboy,” Grail said. “You’re really not my type.”

“Colt. My name is Colt Caudex,” he said, and gave her a half-bow. “And believe me, I can be your type.”

Grail rolled her eyes. “Doubtful.”

He picked up a golden chalice from the ground and hung it from his belt from a loop. “And why is that?”

“Because you’re too soft for me, Master Caudex. You’re way too soft.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a much bigger presence coming across the square.

“Glad to see you’re alive, Wizard,” the half-giant said. “I thought we were about to lose you.”

Now there’s a fuckin’ man and a half, Grail thought to herself.

“Thanks to my new friend here,” Colt said. “Miss…?

“Grail Hillfire,” she filled in.

“Anjella Pallaseri,” the woman approaching next to the half-giant introduced herself. She was picking up some sort of a vest from the cobbles of the town square and brushing off the dust and footprints, revealing gold threading in an intricate design on the back. “And this walking mountain is Shaka Shale.”

The half-giant nodded, but any further pleasantries were cut off by a decidedly shrill scream echoing from somewhere further north of the town square. There wasn’t a whole lot left of the town up that way, just a few buildings including the White Deer Inn and the northern Town Gate.

A gate they could all see, even in the darkness, was standing wide open.

Without a word, the four of them started to jog towards the scream.

Well, three of them did. Grail didn’t fail to notice the soft ‘wizard’ lagged behind a moment.

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