To Droja he says, "Where be Grenseldek?"
Raen stifles a snort, and replies to Vael in the thick tongue of the dwarves.
Continuing in Dwarven, Raen lays out her thoughts . Turning to Droja, she asks, "Where would the General agree to meet us?"
"Consider yourself freed, effective immediately," she adds quietly.
Ushyle nods at Raen's remark to Droja. Free to follow what you will, he says. Show us your spirit, if it will make itself known to us. Our shaman will try to converse with it, and we will see what comes of that.
"The spirit of this castle is more of your kin than mine. The General would not come to us, we must go to him. I can bring you to the chapel first. There all will be made clear."
"Going there first is not likely to curry favor with the orcs we pass though. Either we wait until tonight, or if you can maintain your spell, we can go now."
Droja waves her hand toward the fort and says, "“Somewhere inside is the giant, but but I know not her exact location."
Since spirits don't feel the passage of time, the party waits until the sun sets to rejoin Droja and sneak to the chapel. Droja leads you to the north wall by her hut and a rope already secured.
Atop the wall you can see the courtyard below. It's not completely empty. Despite the late hour there is some activity below. Four ogres are tormenting an orc. The ogres are in the process of tearing the arms off their plaything amid horrible screams and rowdy laughter. The chatter makes it seem like they caught the orc sneaking around in "ogre territory."
"Leave the orc, his death means nothing. We must hurry before the distraction no longer lives."
She quickly brings you to the chapel door. Painted in blood on the door in both Giantish and Orcish is a simple warning, “Keep Out! Vengeful Spirit inside!”...
Hamilton is ready to proceed. Scimitar is sheathed and not flaming. Brinya's Love is drawn. Ham is ready.
He'll listen at the door.
Perception:
The door and room beyond are absolutely silent....
Vael tries to block out the image and the screams of the dying orc. No creature deserves such torment. I... we will fix this.
Once at the door, Vael steps forward. Knowing that spirits can take many forms, he mutters a quick chant to ask the spirits of life to let him detect unlife.
The party hustles through the door, which Droja promptly closes behind them.
Vael immediately feels the presence of an undead aura.
Faded white paint peels from the dust-coated walls of this grand, vaulted chamber. Several sturdy pews sit in perfect rows facing west, where a simple altar sits upon a marble dais. Opposite the altar, a statue of a stern woman clad in full plate armor, brandishing a longsword and shield, stands vigil against the eastern wall of the room.
Vael feels a singular, strong presence.
Despite this, there is a tangible sense of calm that pervades this abandoned chapel... The party recognizes the iconography of Iomedae.
Vael's magical senses hone to the exact location, directly in front of him!
Droja speaks, "He comes!"
Indeed, a ghostly figure dressed in the trappings of the faithful appears before you...
"Greetings heroes of Trunau, I am Fabian Blix. I, was, Fabian Blix. Droja has foreseen your arrival. I pray to the Inheritor that you bring freedom." The way the spirit speaks the word "freedom" is nearly heartbreaking, like it's an unrequited love.
The Inheritor!? You speak of Iomedae?
Ham relaxes.
"I do. Long ago she watched over this place. The folly of men brought it down."
Pushing pash his nerves, Vael speaks up. "Aye Spirit, I ken sense ye. We have met with yer relative too, Calrianne. She be well. I ken too tha plight this plane ken put upon those meant for tha Boneyard and tha afterlife. I wou' help ye be free, ye just need ta tell us how. Ken ye also help us?"
Please, tell us more of who Fabian Blix was and what keeps his spirit chained to this place. How can we assist in freeing you to journey on to your final rest?
Droja bows her head, sitting down in one of the pews. Moments into the story, you understand why.
The ghost tells his tale, and it's as if time stands still. Be it magic or simply the content of the story, you lose yourselves in the details and imagery.
"When the orcs pushed south against Harchist’s Blockade in 4482, they attacked the line of forts stretching along the border, and Redlake Fort was no exception. At first, we held strong against the orc hordes, but as the siege went on, the our food supplies dwindled. Surrounded by orcs and cut off from the rest of the forces manning the Blockade with no hope of resupply, we soon realized that the fort would not hold—we would either die at the hands of the orcs or slowly waste away from starvation."
"The fort’s castellan, a man named Tamand Varias, was determined that the fort would not fall while under his command, and so he turned to a forbidden practice to feed his troops—cannibalism. Keeping the source of the food secret, Varias fed his soldiers the bodies of their own comrades and loved ones. For a time, he was successful; with fresh meat in the garrison’s bellies, morale surged, and the defenders redoubled their efforts against the orcs. Eventually, however, the secret got out, and the garrison turned against the castellan, horrified at what Varias had done, and what he had forced them, albeit unknowingly, to do. In a hastily convened tribunal, the soldiers tried and convicted their commander, entombing him alive behind a stone wall in the fort’s keep. Once more out of food and their morale shattered, the surviving defenders did not last much longer, and the besieging orcs soon overran the fort.
"When Tamand Varias, first pondered cannibalism he sought my counsel, hoping for assurance that the church would absolve him of wrongdoing on his deathbed. Shocked by his proposal, I provided no such guarantee and instead advised the castellan to surrender the fort to the orcs in exchange for the garrison’s freedom. Varias argued that surrender was tantamount to suicide and vowed to hold the fort at any cost. When I told him the truth, that the cost might be his soul, the castellan went insane with rage and struck me down with his sword."
"Resolute, Varias locked up the chapel and quietly began murdering those deemed unnecessary for the fort’s defense— primarily the families of the soldiers— while I became the first person to be fed to the garrison. To explain this newly discovered supply of fresh meat, Varias told his troops that I had been hoarding food in the chapel, and when discovered, had fled like a coward into the night, abandoning the garrison to its fate. He also claimed that for their safety, the soldiers’ families and the fort’s remaining food supply had been barricaded inside the chapel, where Iomedae would watch over and protect them. In reality, of course, the chapel was empty, and the garrison’s family members were being slaughtered in the keep’s basement to provide sustenance to the fort’s soldiers. The garrison’s soldiers praised the castellan for his foresight and continued to fight, believing that surrender to the orcs would doom their loved ones—all the time unaware that their families were already dead, and ignorant to the horror that they had supped on their own flesh and blood."
"Ridding the fort of Tamand Varias’s foul influence and cleansing it of the sins visited here so long ago will finally allow me to know peace. The only way I know of to accomplish this is to bring the castellan’s remains to the chapel and destroy them upon Iomedae’s altar. Unfortunately, I do not know exactly where Varias’s bones now lie, though I can tell you that they are somewhere in the fort."
Vael releases the concentration on his spell and breathes a deep sigh. "A troublin' tale, Spirit. Ken that we will help ye find peace by findin' tha castellan's remains. Do ye ken of anythin' that cou' help identify his corpse? Items he possessed in life maybe?"
The shaman pauses to think. "We also have a more immediate problem of tha fort bein' infested with Orcs and Ogres. Do ye ken anythin' of tha current inhabitants?"
Ushyle listens intently, saying nothing as Fabian speaks. When the tale is done, he stands and nods. We will lay your spirit to rest. Or die trying.
|
WP listens to the tale of the history of this fort.
"The more I know about this place, the more I think this fort should be burned to the ground." The slingers mood is getting darker by the minutes.
Pig tries to speak directly to the spirit,"what is your opinion of the orcs and ogres that now occupy the fort and what do you think of Droja?"
"Indeed, I have spoken long with Droja about the orcs, ogres, and giant. We are of one mind, either slayers of great power and the blessings of Iomedae bring righteous justice to them all, or a cunning group ignites the flames between them. It is only the thinnest of truces that keep them from killing each other. Because of your actions in Trunau, her plans have been foiled. Neither group listens to her now." Droja nods to Whistle Pig before the spirit answers his question. "Droja is not an evil spirit, and she has been given a horrible lot in life. I think the horrors that befall the souls who come here are born of the haunting within. Please, destroy the Castellan's remains and we may see all this crumble to time."
"Both groups fear the chapel, with good reason. Dead though I may be, I give them reason to fear it. You may retreat here when needed."
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"Forgive me, But I have seen things that follow me to this day." WP says to Droja."I will not allow anything to happen to my community. Your intentions had to be verified."
To the group:"Let us find this cannibal's bones quickly. Let us travel to the center of the keep that Tulia noticed was not visited by orc or Ogre. We should kill the ogres in the courtyard and frame the orcs. This should create the chaos we need to help secure Trunau." WP says this with little emotion.
Droja simply smiles at the halfling, "I will remain here, and my magic is for you to call upon."
Ham looks to Droja
Lady Oracle... Before we go, is it in your power to heal me? Fairy poison recently sapped my physical strength.
-----
Ham looks to Whistle Pig.
I'm with you. Let's see it done.
"This is a magic I do not know. I am sorry warrior. I can close normal wounds, even if serious."
She motions to gather around her. With a few words and a thumb pressed into your cheek, she bestows a spell upon each of you.
False Life: Each character gains the following number of temporary HP, which will last the rest of the night, or until used.
With the blessings bestowed, the party gets ready behind the door, and explodes into action, hoping for a quick victory before anyone notices.
In an area of dim light, a character can see somewhat. Creatures within this area have concealment (20% miss chance in combat) from those without darkvision or the ability to see in darkness. A creature within an area of dim light can make a Stealth check to conceal itself. Areas of dim light include outside at night with a moon in the sky, bright starlight, and the area between 20 and 40 feet from a torch.
Vael: Go
Ushyle: Go
Doxon: Go
Raen: Go
Whistle Pig: Go
Hamilton: Go
Vael: Go
Ushyle: Go
Doxon: Go
Raen: Go
Ogres: TBD
Whistle Pig: TBD
Hamilton: TBD
SURPRISE ROUND
Vael moves out into the open area, readying his giant spear as he does so.
ROUND 1
The shaman pulls out two cabbage leaves from a pouch and crushes them as he murmurs a low chant. As he finishes his chanting, he stomps a foot and thumbs his nose. This last gesture causes a bank of green fog to appear over the ogres!
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WP will wait for Vael's cloud, but walks out into the courtyard. "dim light. They won't see us until it's too late. damn bastards. time to put these sub creatures down." He thinks to himself. "slings don't have string that make noise when they are aimed." He smiles.
WP squares his shoulders and takes a slow breath and waits...
Surprise Round
As Doxon sees Vael's cloud envelop the ogres, he hustles out to close with them during the confusion.
Move
Round 1
Doxon steps in towards the closest ogre, careful to stay outside the cloud. He lets out a bellow as he swings up at the ogre hidden in the mists.
Fervor to swift cast Divine Favor.
Surprise! Ham moves into the courtyard and draws steel
Vael steps out, a spell on his lips. On his heels is the stalwart halfling.
Doxon wastes no time striding forth.
Hamilton's blade leaps into his hand as he approaches!
As the words of the spell spill from the dwarf's lips a miasma quickly takes shape near the ogres:
"Oi! Who farted?"
A deep sniff, "Not me! Not my brand!"
"Augh! Is BAD!"
"Your mother!"
Doxon finishes closing with a spell of his own, but can't connect.
Vael: Here we go!
Ushyle: Go
Doxon: Heh!
Raen: Go
Whistle Pig: Oh!
Hamilton: Ha!
Vael: Stinking Cloud
Ushyle: Go
Doxon: Miss
Raen: Go
Ogres: TBD
Whistle Pig: TBD
Hamilton: TBD
Black: Nauseated
Red: Nauseated
Ushyle takes a five-foot step and studies Black. Then, once he has the measure of the ogre, he charges it, drawing Gorum's Thorn on the way!
Raen sighs and follows the others into the courtyard. She does not relish the opportunity to look upon what terrors the ogres inflicted upon the orc -- it was enough to make her nearly sick before, let alone after. Outside the battle is already underway, and Vael has thought to cover the scene with a thick smog. Raen does her best to further obscure the ogre's vision and aims her spell high, hoping to leave as little gilding on the dusty courtyard as possible.
Ushyle measures his foe in the dark, and once he draws a bead, lets fly. The air again smells of roses as the weapon does its grim work. The ogre's head hits the ground a good 5 seconds before the body follows.
Raen's spell strikes the remaining three:
Only one ogre seems completely ruined by the colorful spell. Blue stumbles forward and takes a wild swing towards Ushyle but makes a glancing blow off the armor.
The remaining shouts, "I'll tear you apart!" and steps around to give the half-orc a taste of club, swinging over Doxon's head , but missing by a mile.
Whistle Pig's stone breaks the ogre's jaw. The bullet hits with shocking force.
Vael: Stinking Cloud
Ushyle: Kill!
Doxon: Miss
Raen: Glitter
Ogres: ATK
Whistle Pig: Hit
Hamilton: Go
Blue: Blind
Red: Nauseated
Green: 15
NOT stepping into the cloud.
Ham drops his scimitar and pulls his bow, drawing one of the black-fletched arrows he looted from Orcs back at the battle in Trunau. He aims for the far Ogre.
Longbow +1:
Damage on Hit:
That will hit, not drop it. Others can post next round.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Vael moves up beside Hamilton. "We've got to make sure none get away. Can you do that?"
Not waiting for the answer, the shaman calls upon the Spirits of Heaven and channels the energy they provide to move Hamilton. With a swirl of starlight he disappears, only to reappear north of the cloud.
Heaven's Leap used on: Ham
And the ogres need to make Fortitude saves...
Raen listens to the clang of combat and peers at the looming shapes in the noxious mist. A flick of her wrist serves to aid Doxon and Ushyle in their melee.
Hamilton adds an arrow to the ogre's woes, but it doesn't fall. Vael quickly changes the layout of the battle with some shamanic magic.
Raen seeks to stop the potential get away:
and send both ogres crashing to the ground!
Round 2
Vael: Bampf
Ushyle: Go
Doxon: Go
Raen: Grease
Ogres: TBD
Whistle Pig: TBD
Hamilton: TBD
Blue: Blind (prone)
Red: (Nauseated)
Green: 15 (Prone)
Doxon brings hammer and pick down on the ogre (green)
Hammer and pick combine to deliver a pair of wounds that end the ogre. Grey matter and blood mix with grease and vapor!
Round 2
Vael: Bampf
Ushyle: Go
Doxon: Kill
Raen: Grease
Ogres: TBD
Whistle Pig: TBD
Hamilton: TBD
Blue: Blind (prone)
Red: (Nauseated)
Ushyle takes a deep breath, then steps into the cloud.
... But forgets to block his nose. The cloud nauseates him (for rounds).
Ushyle's body bretray's him as he falls victim to Vael's spell.
The ogre at Doxon's feet, blind and prone, stupidly tries to stand up. Unbeknownst to it, Doxon can't reach and Ushyle is shouting groceries.
it stands, but wobbles in place. The remaining ogre, also vomiting tries to flee!
Round 2
Vael: Bampf
Ushyle: Puke
Doxon: Kill
Raen: Grease
Ogres: Not much
Whistle Pig: Go
Hamilton: Go
Blue: Blind (prone)
Red: (Nauseated)