Turn 154

    Back of Temple:
    Ibn Hassan coughs, then mutters, "So much for a quiet entrance." He peers around, trying to figure out what he missed about the trap setup. "Wonder how much it'll cost for them to get all that replaced."
    After a moment of silence, the other sounds resume, now identifiable as voices. They're coming from the left.
    Valarin gives him a raised-eyebrow look and inclines his head toward the right.
    Front of Temple:
    "Aw...too bad." Emmett says once he has let the others through, when it is just he and the young acolyte still in the door. This is followed by a right forceful knee to the Hextorian's groin, attempting to slam the man against the large open door with his arm after the hit. (This would be two strikes with the arm as the primary weapon and one with the knee as the secondary.)
    This takes the young man entirely by surprise, and he is pummeled back against the door.
    Expecting Emmett to instigate the assault Lynden has stayed close to him ready to enhance his strength and, of course, to cover his back. He swiftly taps him on the shoulder casting the spell he's held in readiness {Bull's Strength} before stepping up towards the goblins, his mace at the ready and Barrend by his side.
    Pham murmurs a few words of his own and gestures with an iron rod, attempting to freeze Emmett's victim in place, but the youth is tougher than he looks, and shakes it off.
    "You dare to profane these grounds, impostor?!"
    [Round 1 proper]
    The goblins spend a moment gaping in astonishment, drop their cleaning implements, and flee toward the high, partly open doors barely visible at the far end of the Hall, gibbering at the top of their lungs.
    [Lynden]
    [Barrend]
    [Hextorian] The young man gets up from where he has fallen and scrabbles at his belt for an age-darkened ivory cylinder, removing a narrow scroll. His hands steady as he begins to read; a line of intense light begins to form between the stone floor and the shadow-haunted roof high above.
    [GM: I still find the combat rules for this system a bit more complex than they really need to be, but I believe you guys get your AoOs here.]
    [Emmett]
    [Pham] His second attempt succeeds; gliding over to the youth, he plucks the scroll from the motionless hand. After a moment of study, his eyebrows rise sharply and he comments to Emmett, "If he had managed to get this one off, we might have been in some trouble. I doubt he has any business using a spell of this power."

     Elsewhere:
    "Yes, exactly. And others might take it from you. I'm just saying that one has to be careful." She names a thoroughly outrageous price for the quantity of powder he has in mind.
    "Contrary to common belief, we Giff are very careful when handling smoke powder." _Well, some Giff are_, Yestin thinks, though many of his kind get downright giddy when they lay their hands on smoke powder and are anything but careful. "And you needn't worry about this thing falling into the wrong hands. I'll blow it up before I see that happen."
    Yestin scratches his heavy jowls with sausage-like fingers, his ears twitching with barely suppressed excitement. "Is this the part where we haggle? I'm no merchant and little experienced at this sort of thing -- though I've accompanied my platoon's quartermaster oft enough to know that price is ridiculous." Yestin flushes, his purple skin turning almost black, hoping he hasn't offended the priestess. "Perhaps half of what you've asked would be a more appropriate price? And we'll sacrifice to Gond every time we have to use this thing in battle."
    She scowls at him for a moment, then relents with a grin. "Very well, my young Giff. Fifteen hundred for ten, and mind you remember the sacrifice. The shot is on the temple."
    [GM: Ten smokepowder charges are needed to fire a small cannon once, according to my sources.]
    

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