Vaultsmith motioned for Ro and the others to come upstairs. As they filed onto the roof, Vaultsmith motioned to the growing number of shadows in the square. As they watched, they heard from the shadows across the way a shout of “There’s one now! Get it!” shortly followed by the clank of a crossbow and the startled cry of pain from one of the wolves in front of the Inn.
As the sides formed up between the “villagers” and the wolves, I asked the group who, if anyone, they should back in the fight. The players argued, in character, as to who was “good” and who was the enemy. the argument started to grow heated before Ro decided that she’d help the wounded wolf. As she plummeted from the roof, Ro changed into a wolf herself using wild shape.
About that time the woman in the baker’s shop threw her mace at Alynthalae, trying to knock her out of the air. Instead, as the mace shattered the glass, Alynthalae flew sped through the whole in the broken pane.
The party now all outside minus the barbarian who had been downstairs, the combatants looked more formidable than first thought. The wolves were a not just like the large wolf they had seen injured, large hulking bipedal wolves, along with a smattering of other demi human shapes crowded the shadows. The people they saw were dressed much like the Innkeep and “baker” in travel stained leathers. Some wore chipped and rusted armor or chain shirts.
Another bolt from a crossbow hit Ro as she attempted to communicate with the fallen wolf and those around her. As the men holding swords rushed the wolves and the feral shapes in the shadows lunged forwards, the adventurers sought to bring their own weapons to bear. As his party members readied themselves, Zekiel stepped from the Inn’s door. Seeing one of the men in armor carrying his family sword, Zerial flew into a berzerker rage, barreled towards the man, throwing the bent iron bar into the mans face just before they engaged. The bar impaled the man, missing his head but piercing his breast. Zekiel roared in triumph as he secured his family sword from the man’s convulsing fingers.
As the battle raged, a shape emerged from the shadows of the wolves forces, a tall, willowy woman with white hair and fetishes hanging from both her tresses and robe. As she stretched out her arm and barked a command lightning danced from puddle to puddle in the bazaar, killing the men closest to her pack.
The adventurers likewise tore their way through the men, as the wolves made of manflesh red rags and bone scraps. A grizzled man and a tall woman emerged from the side of the men and denounced the sorcerous and her pack, “Your people, once we find them all will be food for the new pantheon!” Zekiel hacked at the woman while Vaultsmith placed an arrow in her breast. Between the two the woman fell before her spells coalesced around her. The man stepped away from the firelight “I WILL have them”.
The few remaining men, seeing their leaders either slain or fled, likewise attempted to run. As the last men avoided the teeth and claws of the woods, he looked back in triumph. As he did so a tall woman with large horns upon her head stepped out in front of him. Turniing back towards the fields at the edge of town, he ran straight into her outstretched greatspear.
As the last sounds of the dying were muffled beneath the sounds of flesh being rended and bones cracked under powerful jaws, a small woman rushed from a grating in the ground, running towards the wolf with the quarrel in his side.