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" If I didn't trust you or your ability to move in silence, I would not have let you go just now."
Quill's brow furrows at the statement, trying to find a nice way to respond.
"Uh...you think you get to 'let' me do anything?" Quill tries to keep the annoyance from his whiny voice. "My home was piddlespotting destroyed by these giants. I don't think I need your permission to 'let' me do anything, Kipa."
Quill wonders where he got the balls to stick up for himself, but after the bullying from Storn, maybe he wasn't also going to take it from the newcomer halfling, Kipa.
"When you kill a few orcs or giants, then you can tell me what I can and can't do, okay? We, me and Sander, were perfectly fine in being able to find a good scouting solution without you letting us do it."
Quill shakes his head.
"And as far as being more quiet than these around here," Quill offers a thumb point to Storn. "That's just a simple matter of not yelling everything I say and not wearing armor that clanks like a walking wind chime."
Feeling a bit frustrated at trying to find a way to connect with the young adventure, who is in a place he was in may years ago and biting his tongue so that not to lose his cool any more then he is. " 'Let' as in not coming with you treating you like an equal and not a child like some may be inclined to do so. Not 'Let' as in giving you permission. I have been in battles with these giants and orcs since I was just a child. I have been in what some would call wars, others skirmishes with them. I have lost my family to them when I was a child. Friends in battles later in life to giants. My village was destroyed and I was on my own since you were still nursing. I have slipped into Orc camps to free slaves. Some of whom were treated worse then you would treat a plagued rat. So, If you'd rather feel like you can just sit at the camp playing in the dirt with your arrow like before, feel free." breathing out to try & find some calm.
"Look. You remind me of myself when I first stepped out in this world. Trying to prove myself to myself let alone the rest of the world. I was on my own till I found my guild. All I am trying to do is offer an out stretched hand to you. Something I didnt get till many years after I was on my own. That is all I can do. The offer stands. You choose to take it or not. Either way, when we go into battle, I will have your back."
Letting Kipa and Quill sort their problems out, Storn instead turns to the matter of the fact he and Dieter are noisy.
"More importantly we want to be less noisy than everything else going on. But I'll take the armour off, although I'll want space to put it back on. Hrmph. With the prisoners, we deal with them if we come aross them. We don't even know where they are."
Storn furrows his brow.
"So our plan is blow the dam at night, and then find an opening and go for it. Over the wall is probably the best way to get in. Frankly, climbing without my armour on will be easier anyways."
Walking back to the main group to help with the prep. "If we blow the damn, we will have a good amount of time before they are reorganized, but not much. We could blow the bridge too and trap them even further but that would make life harder for us to get out."
"If we blow the dam, can we be sure it won't flood the dungeons and kill those prisoners regardless of what else we do?" Molly asks.
I am one to agree with the lady on this one, truth be told. What would be the difference between us and those orcs if we just let the slaves die so that we 'complete' the mission? Is there a way for us to get into the fort, free the slaves, THEN blow the dam as a distraction for our escape?"
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Quill shakes his head.
"While I care about hostages, I care much more about completing our mission. For us to die while trying to save a prisoner just isn't worth the risk to me. Besides, I doubt the prisoner is even still alive now."
"While it would be nice to rescue the prisoner, we can't add more risk by worrying about them. We need to focus on our goal. And we need to blow that damn dam." Quill adds his two coppers.
"The difference between us and orcs? The orcs kill out of greed, bloodlust, and plunder. We kill out of necessity, taken only when there is no other choice and for the accomplishment of a greater good. They feel barbaric joy from their acts. We feel hesitation and remorse for what must be done. I would call that one heck of a difference."
Dieter turns to Storn. "Your idea is sound, brother. Though I am loathe to shed my armor, it is for the best."
"Why would the prisoner be dead?" Sander chimes in, as if coming out of a reverie. "You said they didn't understand why they were keeping him alive, so he's probably not dead now! And blowing up the damn probably will help them -- they'd have a moat so it would be even harder to get in! Calrianne said there's a secret way in, so we have to take that, then we can free the prisoner and do everything else we have to do! Imagine if it were Marigold in there? Or Yelena? Or your hammer, Storn? Would you just leave them to maybe die?"
The halfling is surprisingly animated at Quill's news -- which he's hearing about just now for the very first time, as if they hadn't spent a good deal of time together.
"No, there's no other choice. Maybe to escape we can blow up the bridge and then the dam and trap everyone inside, but sneaking's the only way to go in! Storn and Dieter will just have to not use their armor for a little bit, and then can change into it in the secret tunnel!"
"I am with Sander on this one. Sneak in. Free those who are trapped. We may be able to pick up a few.... extra supplies while we are in there too. Has to be a store room & armory. Get out & blow the dam & bridge as a distraction. On a related, but odd note, do we have any Bags of holding in the group?"
Storn lets out a long, low, sigh, like the earth itself is bored.
"Blow it up or sneak in, I don't care. If we find the prisoner, we free them because we do that. We're going into this blind anyways."
Storn hesitates for a moment.
"Uh, that said. If we flood the moat, how the hell are we going to get into the keep? That may kill us some orcs and cause some distractions, but pretty sure that makes it harder for us, not easier."
"The invisibility should be enough, I think ... hope," Sander says.
With the plan in motion, Storn settles down to pray for ten minutes or so to accumulate his spells for the mission. Once done, he laboriously strips off his armour, and is left in the padding underneath.
"Ready to go. I have a spell that will make us all quieter but uh, can complicate spells while it's active. Also, I have a mist spell, and a silence spell if we want no noise."
Storn then takes a while to bundle up all of his heavy armour and gear, tying it to his back to create an enormous pack. When ready to go, he produces and reads a scroll of ant haul.
Looking over at Storn "That spell may be very helpful if we come across a group of sleeping orcs. With that, We can take care of a few quickly and no one may be the wiser."
"Wait, you have a silence spell?! Then you can keep your armor on since we don't have to worry about it making noise!" Sander says incredulously.
"I've got the spell of darkness ready, if we're still interested," Molly offers.
"Yes. But this'll be magic darkness."
Their plan set, Sander and the others retreat a mile or so away, hoping to find somewhere secure to hide and spend the day, hopefully without being found by any scouts.
If he can find the resources, he'll craft a potion of invisibility to help them out the following day. When he'll probably be killed horribly.
Despite his boisterous and impatient nature, if one thing Storn knows about battle, it's that there is a lot of waiting. He spends his spare time getting to really know Gorum's thorn, chanting strange things in Hallit as he practices his attack patterns again and again.
As well, Storn finally gets down to cleaning himself up. Despite having almost no sense of personal hygiene, the repeated attacks from fire, acid, and general battle wounds has left the once bronzed, hirsute warrior coated in a disgusting goop. He washes his armour padding, shaves off the burned edges of his beard, and just hacks off the half-dissolved mess of his dreadlocks. Using a create water cantrip he even manages to bathe himself somewhat to clean out healing wounds and generally scrub the disgusting gunk that has accumulated under his armour - rust comes from both directions.
By the end of his quiet day of surprisingly cleanliness, Storn dresses back up in his shining polished half-plate, once more an intimidating mass of iron but without the hair and strange smells pointing in all directions.
"So at night we put up an obscuring mist, cast a silence spell, and head over the top. I have a knotted rope to make things easier. If someone is a skilled climber they can go up ahead. Otherwise we need a grappling hook."
After finishing a cute little bracelet out of woven long-grass, Dieter ties the knot with his teeth and claps his hands shake off the dust. "Well, if no one needs me for a few hours," he swings his quiver around from his back and takes out a handful of shafts. "It is time for the proper care and maintenance of my equipment." He rummages in his belt pouch and produces a whetstone. With elbow grease and spit, he sets to honing the edges of his arrows.
Molly spends the prep time in a series of exercizes, practising the kata of the martial art the others have seen her use in battle to avoid strikes. But she also sits down in a meditative pose, legs crossed, eyes closed, and her toad held close to her face. Witch and amphibian seem to be muttering to each other in a language all their own.
Looking up at the sky/moon after the plan has been settled on "Well, since we have a bit before we move out, let's catch some rest when we can. it is going to be a long rough night head of us. Storn, do you have a hook for that rope? If not you can use this one.' Kipa pulls a Grappling hook out of his bag.
The night was cloudy, leaving little light for your approach to the fort. This was god, in that it limited the fort's defenders' ability to see your approach, but bad in that the majority of the group was not able to see in the extremely low-light conditions. Quill, Kipa, and Sander helped the two humans along, while Molly skipped along as if it were bright as day out.
As you approached the western side of the palisade, you could hear a conversation in orcish from near the base of the wall. Hunkering down, you could see three orcs slogging along, weapons sheathed, and not really paying much attention to what was going on around them. By staying put, you managed to avoid attention, but now the certainty of patrols was in your minds as you made your assault on the walls.
Molly points to Quill, then to the rope, and then at the top of the wall.
Dieter points at Quill and gives a thumbs-up.
Cocking an eyebrow up Kipa points to the other end of the rope where grappling hook was attached. Shrugging Kipa preps to climb up the rope
Sander watches, tensely. Some of the mist might have been nice, but maybe better to use it to escape.
He waits to see if Quill gets to the top.
Lots of halflings climb. Louly would probably scramble up this. Sure, you've spent too much time in your shop, but you remember how to do this...
Once it appears the way is clear, he takes a deep breath and maneuvers up the rope.
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With a boost from Storn, Quill leaped and scrambled to the top of the wooden palisade. Hanging from one of the spiked tree trunk tops, he pulled the rope up to loop it around. The dangling end felt heavy, and the elf blushed a little as the grappling hook bounced off his leg. Quill hooked the hook hookly, and looked over the wall, hoping he hadn't been spotted. There seemed to be an entire orc village encamped in the moat itself, hide tents shaking slightly in the evening breeze that swirled around the dry moat. No one was about, though, and with the others already climbing up behind him, the elf dropped to the ground on the far side of the wooden wall, mere inches from the dropoff into the moat.
Kipa was right behind him, and the others all followed as the inclination took them.
Inside the wall, the moat was plain to see. The ditch dropped twenty feet down, and nearly that across. Redlake Fort stood on the other side, its stone walls imposing as it did its best to look the part of a bastion on the borders of enemy lands. The outer wall of the fort was fifteen feet high, and looked smooth enough to keep anyone from finding a decent handhold.
Looking around for a way down that was not in plain sight while the others were still making their way up the rope.
Storn grabs the rope. He hangs at the end for a moment to make certain that the rope isn't going to come crashing down, then start up. He is only slowed slightly by the weight of his armor and makes it to the top.
The magical silence thankfully prevented him from sounding like an iron golem tripping down a flight of stairs.
Under the cover of his silence spell, Storn climbs up the wall like a seasoned mountaineer before falling to the other side as Quill did. He takes a bit to get an idea of the surroundings, grumbling out a silenced sigh as he realizes there's so much more before they get into the relative safety of the fort itself.
Unable to communicate with the group thanks to the silence spell, Storn just waits for a call to dismiss it as he surveys the surroundings. Once the group is over the edge, Storn points at his eyes and then ears and then Kipa. Then, over to the closest set of tents.
Once that is done, he looks about finding some way to obscure the group from any patrols.
Storn slid down the embankment into the dry moat, then moved to the cover of two of the hide tents, motioning the others over. He peered around to see the best approach through the tents to the fort side of the moat. The tents were dark, and appeared uninhabited. Curiously, Storn moved his head to one of the tent flaps to find it completely empty. The nearest was empty as well.
Kipa, getting his look in before sliding down into the moat, also saw that the tents appeared to be abandoned. To the east, he could see more tents, with light shining from tent flaps and beneath the sides. The halfling also saw a pair of ogres walking this way from the east. At their current pace, they would intersect with the area where the group was in about five minutes.
Kipa curses silently under his breath. He takes a look around for the talked about secret entrance.
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Kipa cannot see the secret entrance from where he is. Likely, if it was that easy to spot, it would have been called the 'blatantly-obvious-western-entrance'.
Seeing that the tent is empty, Storn visibly relaxes and moves in at Kipa's beckoning. He then dismisses the silence spell.
"I have a second spell to keep us quiet if we need," he mutters. "The orcs are inflating their numbers, old trick like a wolf puffing out its fur to look bigger than it is."
He stops for a moment. "Uh, who are they inflating their numbers for? They're inside the walls. Nobody can see them. Who are they trying to scare? Also, anyone speak orc?"