4e: Quirky Miniboss Squad

"Oh my god! Sabil!" Heedless to his own safety, he climbs down the rope ladder to Sabil, gritting his teeth and jumping off the ladder near the bottom, kneeling before Sabil and looking him over. "That was a ludicrous fall. I think if we were in any other world but this one, you'd have broken your leg, at the very least."

Looking at Sabil, then up at the cliff, he sighs. His ears fold back in distaste, and he wraps his arms around the young drow, roughly hefting him up and draping him over one shoulder. The gnoll then turns, gripping the ladder in one hand and making his way up... At first, he pauses... unsure of how to begin. With one hand keeping his companion steady and one hand on the ladder, he was at a loss of how to continue...

...Then, in a rather strange stroke of inspiration, he leans forward, gripping the silk of the ladder with his canine teeth, making his way up the ladder one jerky step at a time. His plate armor and companion only helped to get in his way - he relied on his own strength to get him through it. He would have asked for Bane to aid him, but... Bane didn't seem to be the type. Asking for aid from a god of Tyranny seemed antithesis to his teachings... Vilero figured... if he wanted something, he'd have to take it of his own strength. Only then would Bane bestow his blessings upon him.

With this dark epiphany came a powerful price... Though he did manage to drag his friend to the top, dropping him off at the top as lightly as he could. Panting at the top, he coughed - blood spattering his armor from his own mouth. Shakily, he grabs a rock to steady himself. "Are you alright, love?" He asks, attempting a smile.

Vilero's +11 to Athletics, -2 for his armor, -5 for his companion, gives him a total of +4 to the athletics check. He still manages to not only climb down, but climb up the ladder with both.

[Vilero has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 12 [Total: 12 Average: 12]]
[Vilero has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 9 [Total: 9 Average: 9]]
[Vilero has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 20 [Total: 20 Average: 20]]
[Vilero has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 17 [Total: 17 Average: 17]]

Vilero looses his Paladin abilities, switching them for Blackguard abilities, at this point.
Sabil shook himself a bit, feeling a bit better. Especially now that he was up the cliff face. It hadn't been a particularly easy climb for Vilero, he knew, and it was certainly a bumpy one for himself, but he knew that it was better than trying to clamber up the cliff face on his own. Still, his legs felt like jelly, and he felt a bit of vertigo. It wasn't that his relative frailness that was affecting him so much as it was a crippling fear of heights. He clung to Vilero a bit, realized that he was clinging, and let go. He swallowed. "I swear to god, if we ever come across another cliff, shot-putting me up it might be easier." He swore a little, and the Drow ran a hand through his white hair.

"I think I'm okay though," He said, after a moment, "What about you? Are you alright?"
Vilero nods, with a slight grin. "Yeah. Was thinking..." He pants for a bit, standing fully. "On the way up. Guess I changed my mind about a few things." Extending a gauntlet to Sabil to stabilize him. "I think Bane approves of the change, so let's keep going... I think I should be able to defend you just fine by making sure I kill anything that dares harm you, anyway..." He spat at the cliff. "Including inanimate things."

Vilero and Sabil gain 150xp for making it up the cliff face.

He moves forward, grinning, "So... are you starting to think this mission that the Drow Queen gave us really will be getting us killed...? Because it seems that way. Would be a real short adventure if that were so..." He pats Sabil on the back, "Let's hope it's not."

Moving along the corridor for five minutes counts as a Short Rest, and Sabil spends a healing surge.

The two walk for a while, when a gust of wind blows across their face from the way they're headed... fresh wind, and the slightest smell of a campfire. The whispers of many people echo inaudibly through the cavern, and Vilero perks up. "...Ah. I guess that must be the bandit camp."

...And what a camp it was. Moving to crouch nearby, the camp consisted of twenty-three bandits, as well as the shadows of two figures illuminated within a tent. Looking down on the camp from fifty feet up, one can notice the great open cave mouth showing a forested night, crisp cold air creeping in upon the shivering bandits.

Vilero, in his fur, felt fine in it. He turns an apologetic face towards Sabil, who didn't seem to have the warmest of outfits, and never had a love for the cold.
Sabil glanced over the camp, shivering a little. He crept closer to Vilero, huddling near the gnoll for warmth and maybe out of being overwhelmed. That was a large camp with a lot of people, all of which would probably attack the two on sight. Sabil had no real love for fighting things, and much preferred to talk things out. This did not seem to be a viable option here, and that worried Sabil. He was worried that there would be a repeat of the dagger throwing bandit, and his penchant for plugging a certain sorcerer full of daggers.

"I don't like this," He murmured to Vilero, "I have a feeling that we're gonna die. Or, at least, I'm gonna die. Bandits and I? We don't really get along so well." He frowned, "You may not remember this, but I got three daggers stuck in my shoulder my kidney, and I think my spleen," He swore, "Gah! I don't want to end up as a sorcerer-pop!"
"Sorcerer-pop? I don't think you'll have to worry about it as long as no one there has any javelins..." Right as he says this, he notices a man sharpening javelins by the campfire. He winces, "Ah." Looking around a bit, he whispers, "Maybe there's some way to circumvent how many of them there are? Find a rock to crush a few, or maybe wait until they go off to use the restroom and pick them off, Horror-Movie-Monster style...?" He glances at Sabil, then his ears droop. "...Oh. Right. You're not good at the stealth approach, and I certainly am of no use there in my armor. You're... not at full capability, but you're close."

Scratching his chin a bit, he observes the camp for a while. "Here's an idea. Seems a few of them go on watch every once in a while. If we attack the ones that go on watch, we can probably significantly reduce their numbers, allowing for a good chance of winning in a full-on attack." He grins, nodding. "As long as we don't get a runner, we should be just fine..." He pats his companion on the shoulder. "Are you ready?"
Sabil sighed, looking at the javelin sharpening bandit glumly, "I could probably attempt to do this sneaky, but I'm a mage, and not exactly the most subtle thing in the world. My spells tend to go boom, which is both loud and obvious." He tucked a piece of his white hair behind his long ear, and watched the group of bandits. That was a large group of bandits, and there were only two of them. Perhaps they were all mooks, he thought hopefully, and they die in one hit. The drow felt a rush of self confidence, grinning brightly at his compatriot, "We can take 'em, right?" He patted Vilero's shoulder, "I'm ready. We can do this. Let's go kick some ass."

He waited impatiently for Vilero to signal the attack, feeling his magic being to tingle in his finger tips.