The dawn breaks, cool and clear, above the town of Darlington. Over the course of the last few weeks, the Mayor and a handful of local businessmen have quietly questioned passing caravans and wandering travelers, judging them and weighing their character over a few pints of ale, and quietly offering those they deem worthy a small reward for a simple, but vital, task.
In hushed tones, they imparted the story of the Petty Tyrants, a line of evil men and their marauding minions who have choked trade and terrorized Darlington and the outlying villages and farms for decades - centuries, in fact.
Darlington, isn't exactly a metropolis (many blame the stunted nature of the community on the Tyrants, among other things), so there has never been more than a passing interest from far-flung authorities in working to quell the Tyrants; requests for help invariable result in responses that the trouble is a "local matter", and the forces of distant city-states are needed elsewhere.
So, the people live and struggle and knuckle under to the Tyrants - or they have, until recently.
The raids, bi-monthly affairs for as long as anyone can remember, have stopped. The last one was over two months ago, and the incredulous townsfolk are daring to begin to hope that things might have changed - while others fear that something worse is inevitable.
Answers to what happened, and what it means, are hoped to be coming forth shortly - provided by the brave group of hand-picked adventurers arrayed before their light horses as the sun creeps over the distant Eastern mountains. Eager but concerned townsfolk gather nearby, not wanting to disturb the members of the expedition, but not wanting to miss their departure. A basket of fresh bread is meekly provided by a local farmer's wife, while a brace of wineskins are handed over by the tavern owner.
The Lair of the Petty Tyrant lies three days travel to the north, at the base of the Groaning Mountains - easy travel over paths worn by thousands of bandit feet and orcish wardogs over the years.
Good luck, adventurers.
(Please provide a marching order in OOC, and if you wish to do anything in town or ask any questions before leaving, let me know. We'll assume two chances for encounters per day, and one per night, until you reach the Lair - I will begin those checks once everyone has chimed in and the band is on the road.)
Alvin inquires, looking with contempt at the light horse troddled before him, "Say, could we perhaps get a wagon? I am not much of a horseman."
Caernas laughs, the sound ringing through the clear morning air louder than he had intended. His voice says, "Sorry," though his face says otherwise. "You just sounded like my sister a bit there, is all." He chuckles to himself; he is a fair rider, probably among the best of them, and as he leaps astride the pony, he wonders if it might not be a good idea to spread his skills around a bit to those around him.
The thought is fleeting, as most of his are, and he quickly puts the sun to his left. His pony - privately he calls the filly Aelwyn, but never would do so aloud - prances lightly, as if reading his anxiousness: Caernas never quite enjoys any moment so much as this one, when what is known is left behind, and what is unknown lies before him.
"Thank you for the refreshments," Tench says softly. "Hopefully we'll bring back good news."
He eyes his mount warily before placing his sandled foot gingerly into the stirrups and climbing aboard. The horse skitters briefly beneath his unsure hand, but a brief pat and some murmured platitudes quiet the beast.
He looks to his companions, "Shall we?"
Rowen bows her head in thanks for the bread and wine, and turns towards the horses. She gently walks over to the steed, with her hand opened wide as an offering of friendship. The horse calmly sniffs Rowen hand, and then allows further connection. Rowen takes her hand and pets the horses tenderly on the side towards the saddle. Grabbing the reigns, she pulls her self upon the horse, and looks over towards Tench. "Ready".
Alvin raises an eyebrow at Caernas but does nothing more, assured that the fool will become indebted to him sooner or later. Deciding that perhaps it is best to be off immediately then waste time haggling with some two-bit merchant, he mounts his horse and says, "Let's go."
The first day of travel, as might be expected, goes swiftly and uneventfully. By noon, the farmlands are giving way to more isolated farmsteads. By 3 pm, the only signs of civilization are the occasional remains of an abandoned, overgrown farm or weathered and crumbling stone fences. And by dusk, the party has found a suitable wide spot in their trail to call camp for the night.
Setting camp is the work of only a half-hour or so, with plentiful broken wood nearby for a fire. The morning's bread is still fresh and the wine good and sweet, a popular local vintage that would likely have been unavailable had the Tyrant's men still been on the rampage.
While sitting quietly around the fire, chatting and sharing wine with the others, Alvin's gaze is attracted to the higher branches of a nearby tree. In the haze of twilight, he can't be certain, but it sure looks like there is something entangled in the upper branches; several somethings, in fact. Rather solid... about the size of a torso maybe?
Alvin, upon noticing something odd, says, "Look, there's something... in the branches!"
Caernas, never one for deep understand of others' behavior, hasn't known these fellows long enough to know if the urgency in Alvin's voice is a warning of danger or simply an observation. Companionship, somewhat alien to him, has left him strangely complacent, so he simply looks upward, straining his eyes in the dim light; still, has hand strays to his bow, never far from him, without conscious thought.
Yes, indeed, there are three torso-shaped objects in the tangled upper branches... and is that bone? Hard to tell from down here, in the failing light...
Noticing Caernas reaction to Alvin's words, Rowen quietly stands up from her seat at the fire. Rowen is looking at the object that has caught Alvin's attention, and decides she needs a better view away from the fire. She silently moves towards the nearest tree away from the flickering lights and let's her eyes adjust to the on coming darkness. Curious as to what might be hanging in the tree, she stands still and listen to see if anything might be rustling about, and keeps her attention to the other's reactions as well.
Alvin, not having a clear look but possessed of a fierce imagination, grimaces at the sight and says, "...We should relocate to someplace safer." He lights one of his torches with the campfire and hands it to a braver person wanting to continue the investigation before quietly packing up his bedroll and rations.
Tench finally follows the gaze of his companions to the tree and its mysterious contents. Standing fluidly, he shuffles to the trunk, sparing a brief look at Rowen, "Perhaps i should shimmy up here and take a closer look?"
Caernas smiled a little smile. Tench was the only person he'd ever met who could climb as well as he; the first time he'd seen the quiet man scramble up a rock wall, Caernas had simply hung, climb forgotten and mouth agape, finally having some referent for how the villagers of home had viewed him. So he had no concern for the man's safety in the climb, but they'd all learned solitude could be dangerous in the field.
"Not alone," he said, sticking his head and one arm through his bow, delicate sting across his chest where it could be shielded from the clutching embrace of branches. He looked at Rowen; she was astonishingly capable with her swords, but the more corpulent Alvin could scarcely hold his own with arms, and Caernas had little faith in the man's magic, having not yet seen the extent of his powers. Nodding his head toward the enchanter, his eyes locked with the Ranger's, Caernas said, "You'll be well?"
Characteristically, he didn't bother waiting for a response; she'd stop him if she felt she needed to, he thought. Instead, he nodded to Tench, who was already eying the tree with his skilled gaze, and waited for the better climber to begin his ascent.
Listening closely to the sounds around the mysterious baggage, Rowen hears the scraping of branches across something metal like. She also hears similar noises near the ground level. She brings up her hand in a quieting gesture and looks a Tench and Caernas. Rowen whispers "The tree branches are scraping across some sort of metal above us, but I heard a similar sound on the ground as well. Take heed." Not sure if Alvin overheard the whisper, Rowen motions to her ear and the ground alerting Alvin to the presence of the noise around them. Allowing the others to climb the top of the tree, Rowen places her hand upon the hilt of her long sword, and looks intently for where the noise is coming from.
Upon hearing Venosha's warning, Alvin grumbles. He had not anticipated trouble so soon. He drops his supplies to the ground, hurls his torch into the campfire, and quickly pulls out his crossbow, ready to fire on anything he perceives as trouble around or below.
Climbing the tree proves fairly easy, with plenty of branches and crags in the bark. As you approach the top-most branches, you feel them starting to sway as if in a stiff breeze. As you draw closer, it becomes clear the objects in the branches are rusted breastplates - still occupied with skeletal remains!
And on the ground, as anxious team-mates look on, Venosha notices several patches of dirt are shifting, revealing dirt-and rust encrusted metallic remains of armor and swords - more undead, rising to engage!
(initiative rolls in OOC please - 6 total skeletal undead)
Tench, being highest into the tree, notices right away that the squirming skeletal undead in the upper branches, although animated, are "pinned" by the years of plant growth through the armor that protects them. They are slowly but steadily disentangling themselves, however (maybe 3 rounds to escape - would take you one turn to finish climbing up to engage them).
Meanwhile, down below, Alvin and Rowen have time to act while the three undead threatening them work to free themselves from their shallow graves (Rowen acts first, then Alvin).
Haven't heard from Engine/Caernas yet, but feel free to proceed with actions.
After watching the skeletons try to unearth themselves from their shallow graves, Venosha turns around and retrieves the Alvin's torch from the fire. She then faces the undead and launches her attack.
Tench skitters higher up the tree, reaching the lowest of the entangled skeletons with ease. Bracing himself against the trunk, he deftly snaps the head off of the squirming undead, causing the disenchanted bones to rattle through the hollow breastplate and clatter to the ground.
Caernhas, finding footing on a medium-thickness branch, likewise braces against the tree trunk and prepares his bow. 20' below, he sees the mage Alvin kneeling behind a rock, weaving a glowing cloud that seems to meld with his skin. And in the glow of the firelight, Rowen hefts a sword in one hand and and a torch in the other, preparing to face down the rising circle of skeletons!
Skeletons: AC 13
Rowen observes the skeletons rising one by one, and decides to attack the closest one to her before she is surrounded. Holding a torch in her left hand for attacking, and her long sword in the other hand for defense, she attempts to bash in its head with the torch, adding a little fire to its already gruesome sight.
Rowen making a quick decision, steps deftly to the right and strikes down one of the emerging skeletons, sending bones flying. Caernhas, finding the footing a bit less steady than he though, lets fly an arrow that - well, broadly misses his target. Tench skitters higher into the tree, confronting two mostly-unentangled skeletons that begin to swing from the branches, moving hand-over-hand towards the main trunk.
Alvin vividly withdraws from the emerging undead, hefting his spell component pouch in front of him like some improvised shield. When he is a fair distance away, he works his magic, and a hazy yellow aura of protective magic envelops him.
Caernhas, finding his footing, lets fly an arrow that pierces the rusty breastplate of a skeleton on the ground, staggering it for a moment, but it continues to approach Venosha, who swings but misses. Tench makes his way into contact with another of the tree-bound skeletons, and grabs its head for another twist, but at the last second, the skeleton turns slightly, biting his hand! (3 points of damage) - leaving Tench unable to complete his maneuver. Meanwhile, Alvin continues to crouch behind a rock, waiting for his time to come. . .
After regaining her footing, Rowen grabs the torch with more composure, and aggressively attacks the next skeleton in line.
Tench curses in pain and surprise as the skeleton sinks its teeth into his hand. Steadying himself in the tree he seeks the calm place in his mind - centering his thoughts and actions on the abominations in front of him.
Inner peace achieved, he is no longer perched in a tree facing superior odds. Now he is standing on a level, sandy beach and sparring with a brother from his order. He launches a barrage of attacks against him, striking home. The mental image wavers slightly when his clenched fist strikes metal and bone, rather than yielding flesh, but an imagined sea breeze brushing his cheek restores his inner calm.
Caernhas takes aim yet again - and frustration begins to mount as he misses his mark. Tench, calmness washing over him, pummels his tormentor, sending dried bone-chips flying; but does not dispatch his foe! And Venosha, finding a flaming torch more than a match for shambling undead, sends another skull flying, leaving only one foe on the ground to be dealt with. (Tench will now be faced with two opponents; Caernhas can climb up and attack next round.)
This wasn't working. The unsteady branch, the obscuring foliage, the danger of the moment, all conspired to foul his shots. Arrows were a poor means of injuring the undead, anyway; without blood to lose or organs to be pierced, what harm a clothyard shaft? Those above were too great a threat to ignore, now, in any case.
Quickly hanging his bow over his head, delicate bowstring at his chest where he can avoid hanging it up on every branch and twig, Caernhas double-checks his footing and begins to reach for higher purchase.
Securely girded in transparent layer of protective power, Alvin wastes no time in furthering his defenses... Drawing out his crossbow from its holster, the magician ducks into the shadows away from the campfire and further away from the skeletons.
Alvin, confidence building and glowing slightly from his Mage Armor, prepares his crossbow while moving quickly behind another rock. Rowen makes another mighty swing with her torch at the last ground-based skeleton, connecting with a solid *crunch*, but the skeleton continues to press the attack, and scores a hit, raking its claws across Rowen's sword arm (4 points of damage). Meanwhile, in the tree, Caernhas grabs one of the skeletons by the legs in preparation for a mighty swing, and Tench gracefully flips out of the tree and onto the ground.
Alvin, peering over the forest rock he has found himself behind, scans the melee against the undead frantically as he readies his crossbow. When the situation proves fortuitous, he plans to fire.
Rowen grimaces in pain from the attack by the last ground skeleton to her sword arm. The freezing pain caused by the wound has made her reconsider her position on the ground, not to mention the sounds she hears from her companions. She decides to finish this last vile creature, and clear a landing area for the ones above her.
With a might heave, Caernhas yanks one of the skeletons off his perch and sends it plummeting to the ground, where it lads with a crunch, but it quickly bounds to its feet ready to engage. Meanwhile, Tench lets fly three shuriken which find their mark, and Venosha follows up with a mighty *thwack* from the now-useless torch, felling their opponent.
(There are now only two left, one in the tree, one on the ground, rather banged up. None hit this turn. Alvin should be able to get a shot off this rround at the one that fell from the tree.)
Alvin exclaims and his shoulder visibly jump as he sees an opportunity. He fires on the skeleton that just fell from the tree!
Things happen quickly - Alvin's bolt flies just wide of the mark and embeds itself in the trunk of the tree, while Venosha and Tench converge on and smash the grounded skeleton like a house of cards! Meanwhile, above, Caernhas engages in a grappling contest with the last arboreal opponent, neither finding a grip on their enemy (both failed grapple checks).
'If you don't succeed, try again!' Alvin thinks to himself as he readies another bolt and fires it, a bit unnerved by his previous hapless shot...
Watching the crumbling skeleton fall before her eyes, Rowens attention is captured by the fighting above her. She raises the flickering torch to highlight the activity between Caernhas and the last enemy he is engaged with. Noticing that Caernhas and Alvin are planning the skeleton's annihilation, Rowen chooses to sheath her sword and takes a closer look at the scratches that were administered earlier in the fight. "Well that was careless of me" Rowen thinks to herself and decides that the wound will have to wait until the last skeleton is laid to rest. Exhausted, but still on her guard, Rowen carefully surveys the surrounding area, to see if the fight drew any more unwanted attention.
*wrong thread*
Shuriken and crossbow bolts fly, missing their targets, while Caernhas valiently attempts to grapple with the remaining skeleton! In its haste to grabe Caernhas, the skeleton misjudges its balance (if a mindless killing machine can in fact be said to judge anything) and plummets to the ground with a resounding *crackle* of bones, there to lie motionless. The battle, it seems has ended.
A search of the bodies reveals that the rusted armor and weapons are essentially useless, but in concealed pouches inside the brestplates, you find the following:
Goods: Star rose quartz (50 gp).
Currency: 90 gp.
XP: 600
Alvin slowly shuffles from behind the boulder, peering about nervously. To his companions, he softly exclaims, "Perhaps we should leave, to find someplace safer! To set up for camp, of course." He leaves them to squabble about the small bauble they've found.
Tench leaves the looting to the others and walks towards the fire to examine his bitten hand. He washes the wound and binds it with a bit of cloth before standing over one of the offending creatures.
"Well, that was interesting," he mutters to no-one inparticular.
Caernhas tried not to waste his own time with self-recrimination; he reasoned these foes were unfamiliar to him, and he couldn't have expected to perform any better against them: fortune had played against him. Still, as he leaned against the trunk, his legs well-wrapped around a thick branch below him, a taste rose up in the back of his mouth, bitter, metallic. His heart beat wildly beneath his breast as it always did after an encounter like this, and he took a moment to catch his breath.
Rowen places the battered torch back into the fire. She nods to Alvin, and agrees that its time find a new place to camp. She takes a small piece of cloth from her pack and wraps it around the scratches still exposed from the fight. Wanting to get away from the crumbled remains, Rowen gathers up her bed roll quickly, and looks towards the others to see what they are doing. She notices Caernhas rummaging through the remains of the skeletons, and sees Tench cleaning his wound. Rowen decides that she will not make much of a fortune from this attack. "Are we leaving then?" Rowen asks.
Caernhas looks up from his business, casually wiping a now-filthy hand on his breeches. "It would be well we did not. It is quickly darkening. Besides, another place, found by fortune in the dark, might well have foes we have not already slain." His opinion shared, he went back to rummaging, mostly by feel, inside the armor of the skeleton at his feet.
Alvin coughs in consternation at Caernas. His brow furled, he quickly tosses a choice piece of kindle onto the campfire, and remarks. "Fine, let's stay here. I'll be sure to haunt you the lot of you if something fell us during the night." He then unpacks his gear, eats a small supper, and goes to bed.
The youth chuckles. "I'll be sure to survive that you might have the luxury-- ho! What's this?" He pulls from within one breastplate a gem the size of the last joint of his thumb. He hurriedly continues the search, spurred on now by success. He was not a greedy boy, but this stone alone could feed his entire family for months; he'd never seen such wealth in his own hands.
Time passes, and before long the group settles down, after clearing up the scattered remains of the skeleton ambush. You can try to find another site, or stay here - you have about 45 minutes before it would be completely dark, so chose fast!
Rowen unrolls her bed roll again, and leans it up against a tree. "Since most of us have decided to stay due to the on coming darkness, does anyone want to secure first watch, or shall I take it?" Having wounds to clean and nerves to settle, she wouldn't mind staying up a bit while the others get some shut eye.
"I'll watch first". Tench looks to the westering sun and mutters to himself, "'Tis the most peaceful time of the day."
He settles down and keeps his eyes on the horizon.
The night passes, thankfully, without much fuss, and the next morning dawns bright. Estimating the progress made the day before, you think you should reach the low mountains that hold the Lair sometime around mid-afternoon today.
(Advise if any actions during the day-time ride, I'll assume the same riding/marching order from before)
Caernhas roused from his blanket, annoyingly bright-eyed and awake. After meandering off briefly into the woods, he returned with a fair-sized game bird which he proceeded to roast and share; he'd always been a monster for meat in the morning, feeling it helped him grow aware more quickly than bread. He looked into the distance as the others roused and pondered the mountains into which they rode; he'd never been so far from home before, and the excitement within him was nearly palpable.
[No actions during the day-time ride, not including the occasional moments when Caernhas, loath to unsaddle, stands in his stirrups and urinates from the back of his trotting pony.]
Tench accepts the three mouthfuls of meat that his order allows and thanks the beast lords of earth, sky and water for the bounty. Supplementing his meal with bread and cheese, he follows the youth's gaze to the horizon. Today would be a good day. He checks his wounds to make sure that they are not corrupted and then joins the others as they ready to leave. (No specific actions for the day. Any hit points back during the night?).
1. The Approach
The palisaded outpost where the minions of the tyrant live and from which they conduct their raids lies only two day's travel north of Darlington. Few have had the chance to scout the redoubt, but those who have returned estimate that upwards of 50 brigands, including orcs, make their home there. Most of them are out on raids at any given time, however, at least in normal times. . .
As the party approaches, they see the low wooden stocakade crowning a barren hill at the foot of a long, sheer cliff. There are no signs of life immediately evident. No smoke, no sounds. Even the animals of the nearby woods are quiet. No wind blows - it is almost TOO quiet.
Alvin halts his approach and scans the area for potential danger.
[OOC: Making a spot check. Rolled a final result of 17.]
Chills worked their way up Rowen's spine. She knows the dire silence is not a good sign of things to come. Still on edge from the night before, she begins to calculate what her next move will be. Rowen looks towards the others to see what their reactions are. "This place is a little to quite for comfort." She whispers, "I think it is time to relinquish the horses." Looking all around, Rowen is trying to pick up any traces of tracks that are visible that she can latch on to.
Doing was his strength, not looking, so Caernhas took position where he could guard the others and drew his bow, not yet relinquishing his horse. He could hit targets half again as far as most of his peers, so close approach was unnecessary for him as yet. Still, he knew it was possible he'd need to abandon the pony if they were going to approach quietly.
He looked at the cliff above, his eyes narrowing.
Slowing up and spreading out, the party sees a few things;
There is clearly no movement inside the compound; also, no campfire smoke.
The wooden gate has arrows stuck on the inside.
There is a smell of death wafting over you...
Alvin, noticing the havoc that must have taken place on the inside, waits for someone to head in before following.
Rowen dismounts her horse, and leads it towards a bushy area for cover. Smelling the decay in the air, she cautiously surveys her surroundings. She notices no movement nearby or smoke coming from the compound, and looks towards Alvin. He seems to be waiting patiently for some one to head in before him. She winks at him, "I'll go first" she whispers. She places her hand on her hilt of her sword, and begins to silently walk up to the structure. She wants to inspect the arrows on the gate, and signal her companions to come on in.
Alvin follows, figuring it would be safer to be sandwiched between Venosha and Caernhas if something goes amiss. He keeps his crossbow loaded, so he will be able to strike immediately.