Since the baddies have loosed their ranged weapons already, they are trying to close distance rather than stand and fight, so party gets ranged initiative.
Thurwin begins his spell. He puts his right hand under his left armpit and makes like a flapping chicken wing while incanting the words of power. Greenish-purple fog fills the space between you and the attackers. They (running in pursuit of the thief) run right into it. And stop and begin hurling.
The party is at P, the baddies are upchucking in the obvious area.In the midst of his technicolor yawn, it appears that one of the bad-guys nods at
Calthas' demands. They all drop their weapons as they drain their bellies.
Actions?Hit points and marching orderEffric 3/10 <3,0>
Morgan 18/18
--Calthas 13/13
Tavin 9/9 < >
Calmert 14/14 <2/3/friends>
Caydon 9/11
--Thurwin 13/13 <, >
Bror 5/12