Milon leads the party along the Droskmere’s curving edge, a narrow band of pebbly shore between the water and the treeline, until your path is blocked by the Taggoret River pouring into the lake.
The sun is sinking in the orange, western sky, and long shadows begin to creep out from every tree and stone.
Your guide kneels beside the river and examines its banks.
”We have an important choice to make, my friends. Originally I thought we could make camp here and cross in the morning, but I fear the Knifetongues are hunting us. I can’t see them, but I know they’re out there, stalking us. If we cross the Tagg now, we can put the river between us and them.”
“Unfortunately, the mountain snows are melting early,” he says, pointing above the treetops to the distant, mist-shrouded mountains to the north, ”And the river is running higher than I expected. Welcome to the Vale, where even a mild winter is somehow a curse."
He emphasizes his dismay by sharply flinging a small riverstone into the water.
"I was hoping to wait until morning to cross, so we could dry off as we marched under the sun. Camping on a late winter’s night, soaked like a popcarp, is not an appealing prospect. Then again, neither is having a Knifetongue creep up on me while I sleep. I’ll leave the decision to you, friends.”
"Given a bit of time I can dry us off on the other side. I'm not keen to given them an easier time attacking us at night. If anyone is a very strong swimmer perhaps they can bring some rope across, make it easier for the rest of us?"
"I'm in agreement, in that would should not give them an easy time.
Getting someone across with a rope would be a good start and given Dugan's height I don't think he should cross, I think the only options are Ulark and Myself."
”If they come, all the better. We should camp here and prepare to meet them. If we evade them now they will murder someone else later. And besides, freezing to death from sleeping wet would just make their job all the easier.”
'If I were them, I'd hit us while we're crossing the river. Half on one side, half on the other.'
Dugan gently strokes the fox a few more times before setting the creature down on the ground.
'Thank you Iconnu, I hated seeing the thing in pain.' The dwarf bends slightly and addresses the fox 'Now we're headed deeper into the Vale, you watch out for more of them hobgoblins.'
The dwarf watches the fox, sincerely hoping the fox manages to avoid any further encounters with the goblinoids, and secretly, that the fox decides to accompany him.
"If they are watching now. They might have decided to wait til after dark to track us down, wait til we are all settled in. Shadowing us now could mean we spot them and attack. What do you think Bastion?"
Scanning the treeline for now proves fruitless, and the growing shadows betray no visible sign of the Knifetongues.
However, looking behind, you see a flash of orange fur. The firefoot fennec peers out from behind a dead log, having followed the party.
"Looks like we have a furry friend following us."
"I believe that Ulark is right. We know they are out there and so can prepare for their eventual attack. They will plague us for the rest of our journey, slowing us at every turn and keeping us from our task. My only worry is that they will be more patient than we expect. In that case waiting for them to come could delay us all the more. I say we give it at least the night, keep a close watch and be ready. It will be safer for us to cross come morning anyway." As the fox joins them Bastian adds, "With our newfound friend we may even get warning long before any of us could smell or see them."
"I don't think they'll change their target if we lose them, since they don't like being bested and especially since I injured one in the ass less then a week ago when they tried to raid the farm..."
"We also don't know when we'll have other delays and the townfolk are running on out of time."
"We would have to stop for the night soon after crossing anyway. I remain convinced staying on this side of the river for the night is the right choice."
”Catching cold in this weather is no joke. I’d hate for our quest to end so soon because someone freezes to death. We should cross in the morning.”
'Not going to be much good curing a sickness if we all die of another' Dugan chips in.
"Not everyone has to get soaked from the river, either Ulark or myself could carry the rest across."
"No point arguing about it half the night and splitting up is definitely out of the question. It seems we'll be staying here for the night. We should set up a watch rotation." Inconnu doesn't look thrilled but he's relenting to the majority.
"Let's start getting things unpacked, quick-like, then," Milon says, marching a ways up from the water and dropping his pack. "Someone want to come with me to gather firewood while the rest sort out the watch rotation, set up tents, and what-not?"
"Good idea. For watch rotation, I think it is best to have two of us awake at any given time. This way those hobgoblins can't easily get the drop on us. Iconnu and Milon take the first shift. The two of you can't see very well in the dark. Dugan and I take the second shift, in the dead of night. We can both see in the dark, so it would make the most sense for us to be up. Then we wake up Bastian and Joanne for the last shift. When we aren't expecting to be attacked in our sleep, we can have one person awake at any given time."
@Milon
"I'll head out with you Milon for gathering the firewood."
@Ulark
"I suggest that we should have one person with night vision in each shift as your forgetting about forest shade."
"I suppose...though only myself and Dugan can see in the dark. The rest of you are human." He looked at Joanne quizzically.
"Judging a book by its cover, eh.
I'd mistake myself for an Ulfen if I didn't know better, but
I can actually see in the dark though I have no idea of where I get that from since I'm adopted."
The sun sets without bloodshed.
Joanne and Milon collect armfuls of dead wood, although the woodsman constantly glances over his shoulders to scan the trees and their growing shadows.
Bastian arrays a ring of river stones to serve as a fire pit while those who have them lay out their bedrolls on dry stretches of ground.
The rescued fox creeps closer to camp, but only when no one watches. Any time it finds a pair of eyes upon it, the critter freezes and hunkers down.
When the campfire is lit, the fox scampers away to hide inside a hollow, dead log.
Not long after, however, the critter returns and trots around the fire, warming its orange fur that seems to glow in the firelight.
The fox settles near Dugan's bedroll and curls into a spiral when it watches the dwarf bed down for the time being.
Milon spends the first watch restless. He betrays not so much as a yawn.
His hatchet is always in hand, resting against the log upon which he sits. He stares at the dark treeline, watching for any hint of movement or hobgoblin faces peering from the shadows.
Despite the palpable aura of tension, the first watch passes with only the hoarse cawing of crows to break the stillness of night.
Perhaps an hour into the second watch, however, Ulark and Dugan detect something lurking at the forest’s edge.
Both men can hear the low growl of a dog, and Ulark can see two humanoid figures creeping forth from the brush, carrying drawn bows.
Trying not to let the enemy on to the fact that he knew they were coming, Ulark whispers "They come." He then said louder "I'm falling asleep here. Give me a second while I get some chew out of my pack." With that as an excuse, he used his greataxe as a staff to pick himself up and went over to where everyone was sleeping. With the excuse in place, he goes about shaking everyone awake, whispering "Wake up, but pretend that you are asleep. They come." If at all possible, he pushes their weapons closer to them so that his comrades can spring to the attack.
Dugan shoots Ulark a wink in the darkness and stands. He pretends to stretch, making sure his weapons and armor are all at hand and takes a step toward the fire. 'I don't know how you can be tired with this chill in the air. I envy our furred friend back there.' Dugan does his best to stay on his toes, watching for the charge to come.
The ruse appears to work for now. No arrows come whistling out from the trees yet.
They hunker down, watching and waiting.
Joanne wakes up slowly into awareness with little movement
Inconnu rolls over in his 'sleep' closer to his sword Ulark nudges closer as his stomach twists.
Bastian wakes in silence and gives the smallest of nods to the others. He attemps to pull an arrow from his quiver after Ulark pushes his bow into his hands. Will they attack tonight? Or just keep an eye on us? If they don't should we attack first?
Joanne starts scanning the treeline subtlely
Through the dark, Joanne can see a pair of hobgoblins - Grung and Fosk Knifetongue - crouched among the underbrush.
They have their bows at the ready with arrows nocked, but the weapons are not raised.
It is likely that they are waiting for the last of the party to bed down so they can strike.
They are not alone. Grung is accompanied by a pair of razorcrows - one on his shoulder, the other on a nearby branch. Such aggressive creatures are known for following the hunters to feed on the dead left in their wake.
Fosk keeps his thick arm wrapped around the neck of a mean-looking dog, holding a leather strap across its muzzle to keep it quiet.
A low grunt passes between the hobgoblins.
Fosk unbuckles the belt strapped around his hound's muzzle.
Grung raises his bow, taking aim at Ulark.
Milon
Mongrel
Joanne
Fosk (Red)
Grung (Yellow)
Bastian
Ulark
Dugan
Inconnu
Razorcrows
Milon grabs his hatchet and takes cover behind the nearby rock, his eyes still adjusting to wakefulness and the dark.
"Wish I hadn't forgotten my bloody bow," he hisses.
The mongrel, released from its bounds, unleashes a braying howl as it charges slavering for Dugan.
The beast's jaws clamp down on the dwarf's thigh. It thrashes around, trying to drag Dugan to the ground, but his sturdy stance keeps him standing firm.
''Damned mutt!' Dugan shouts as he shakes the dog from his bloodied leg.
Joanne gets up from prone (Move action)
and then move to be near flanking position with Dugan.
Fosk lunges forward from his crouched position, raising his boar spear as he moves.
The bent iron spearhead bites into the side of Joanne's lower back.
Grung looses an arrow aimed for Ulark, but it flies past his head and across the water beyond, landing with an almost silent splash.
With the hit Joanne replies
"You Bast**d."
Moving behind the dog that was gnawing on his companion, Ulark swung his axe...
Joanne glares at the a**-hole with a spear.
Inconnu rises to his feet letting out a rallying cry in a clear voice that cuts through the din of battle.
'You bit through my good pants!' Dugan roars at the dog, spittle flying from his mouth. He unshoulders his large, brutal hammer and swings it heavily at the Mongrel.
Bastian comes to his feet as well. He slides his fingers along his bow while muttering arcane words. Glowing runes appear across the surface of the weapon.
Bastian's magic infuses his bow.
Ulark's axe swing crushes the mongrel's skull, slaying the beast.
Enraged, Dugan shakes the dead mongrel off of him and pushes forward, but his mighty swing misses the Knifetongue attacking Joanne.
Inconnu's oratory spurs his allies to fight bravely.
The pair of razorcrows fly forward and swarm Ulark, intent on driving him away from the dead mongrel they wish to feast upon. He suffers only a flurry of minor scratches, though.
Milon runs forth and swings his hatchet at the crows, but fails to strike the aggressive birds.
Joanne attacks Fosk with a High Kick
Joanne's kick almost staggers Fosk. Recoiling, he sees Ulark and Dugan beside his original target and judges them to be greater threats than the unarmed, unarmored woman before him.
He aims his spear for Ulark, but the paladin easily parries the thrust.
Grung focuses on Inconnu. Seeing the chattering human as an easy target, he fires another arrow, but the shot goes wide.
Bastian feels the need to show Grung real marksmanship as he pulls back an arrow on his glowing longbow and releases it towards the hobgoblin.
Inconnu continues to talk, making jokes at the hobgoblins' expense. He edges towards the closest crow and strikes at it.