[right][h3]The Old Priory[/h3][/right]

Tayronus watched the scene in shocked, and stilled silence.

After a few moments, he spoke aloud with his body, explaining the scene to those around him. “They’re slaughtering them,” he said, “there’s only two more left, and in a few more seconds there’s probably only going to be one.” Then, in Infernal he said, “Rake, while you’re there, go into the other building and see what you can find.”

Naraug's features twisted into a disgusted snarl. "Can't expect better from goblins. Bleed 'em still!"

"Then there it no time to be lost," Vanguard said as he pulled out his crossbow. "Captain, have your men take out the goblins." Vanguard then leveled his crossbow at the goblins, preparing to fire on either should the initial volley fail to kill one or both of them.

"Yes, sir," Harrad answered, and nodded to the guards. They leveled their crossbows, two aimed at each. Harrad readied his own crossbow, prepared to open fire if the first shots failed to fell them.

Harold turns to Vangaurd. "After they are down we still have the doors to deal with.  Unless you can break then down."

Tayronus looked over at Vanguard, his eyes slightly wide, before returning his attention back to the goblins. The rage at seeing the innocents killed burned deep within him as his left hand weaved an arcane circle over his right. Within moments, fire bloomed in his palm and he hurled it at one of the goblins.

The party followed his lead. 

The half elf drew his shortbow and took aim towards one of the two sentries waiting to hear the twang from the crossbows before loosing his own arrow. The goblin, leaned up against the wall, saw nothing but black as the projectile found his eye and punched through the back of his skull. In a motion, Naraugh readied the javelin he had unslung from his back in preparation, carefully moving out of the crossbowmen's line of fire as he did. The very next instant he was on his feet, mouth open in an inarticulate war cry, and the weapon whistled through the air towards the other goblin, alight with the flames from Tayronus's spell, standing guard.

The greenskin did not have the time to scream as the fire ate away from his flesh before the javelin took him in the chest, killing it instantly.

Both goblins dead, the guardsmen held their fire, conserving ammunition. 

"Let's move forward, swiftly," Harrad ordered. "And put another bolt in each of them once we get closer."

[right][h3]The Path to Tinwarren[/h3][/right]

Eldred swiftly responded to the Half-Orc, but not before casting a somewhat loaded glance at her general direction: "No word of ransom yet, so they're either dead or lost. Or so I reckon. -Hold on." As he spoke, the man was regarding the immediate locale, and something had just caught his attention. "We have fresh tracks." He approached a spot in the mud and knelt over it.  "Could be from the locals. But look here." He gently pinched a black, oversized feather and held it aloft for the rest to see. "What manner of Kobold flies?"

Looking at the feather and scratching his head, Pyrrhus shrugged. It surely looked strange to the man, but regardless, Eldred did raise a good point.

"If you would like to see a Kobold fly, then I should have brought a club, instead."

Despite his quip, Pyrrhus hefted his greataxe, stretching his neck as he prepared himself for an imminent confrontation.

Rultay took a look at the feather, placing a hand on her chin as she squinted to get a better look. Though she wasn't too familiar with most of the beasts that populated the local area, she was sure that she had seen a similar feather before. After a brief moment spent in thought, the answer struck her, and she gave an informed nod to Eldred. 

"Close, but I'm afraid not," she explained, "I can say with absolute certainty that this feather belongs to a Kenku." Though she wasn't much of a reader, she had heard about the strange creatures that lived in the local area from her parents long ago. Easing her stance, she nodded forward.  "They usually mill around the hills, I've heard. They won't cause us any trouble, so long as we don't cause them any, that is." 

Rultay was about to suggest they continue, before she realized something. Perhaps they might be helpful in finding out the fate of the missing students? "I wonder if they would have any information about the missing people," Rultay added after a brief pause. Once more, she turned to the others, looking for their thoughts on the suggestion.

“Kenku, huh?” Pyrrhus scratched his head. “Hah, they’ve got a funny sounding name...”

"Crow-folk," Devie said. "They'll be hard to talk to. They speak through mimicry, using sounds they've heard before. If we run into them, it might be difficult to--oh." She cut herself off as they turned a bend in the road, around a dense thicket of pines, and lo, there they were. Three kenku, dressed in hooded rags, seemingly traveling south from Tinwarren. They stopped in their tracks as they caught sight of the party, and after a moment, one of them waved.

"Hello, and welcome to the Fox & Lute," it said in a familiar voice. No, not just in a familiar voice. It was a perfect replica of the voice of Rugen, the half-orc owner of the Fox & Lute outside Orzamar's eastern gate. "Hello, and welcome to the Fox & Lute," the other two kenku echoed.