Duric drops one of the bugbear berserkers, and hammers the other one.
Gaius is too busy focusing on the enemies he has to slay to worry about the moon. He sidesteps and begins hammering his swords down.
Bran had only heard of the End of Times in passing, and the man who brought it up was promptly executed by the Chelish officials. It had been put out of his mind until just now when he began swimming and felt a terror ripple through his being unlike any other.
Hearing Hamaiili's voice, he swam against the current toward the celestial stairwell just within reach, if the current or the abomination behind him didn't pull him back he would have a chance...
There was too much on the line and what he perceived to be his 'body' was burning trying to push through the threshold at the end of the river. Death could wait.
Tal'ariel has to admire the mettle of these dwarves. "Wow, you sure made quick work of those enemies!" She dives into the combat as well, if only to prove that her sword was more than a decoration!
;
Gaius hits the remaining bugbear three times, but still it stands.
Finally, Tal'ariel resists the moon-voice in her head, and her blade just manages to hit . The berserker falls.
Only one foe remains - the most dangerous of the lot, the hill giant barbarian.
The End of Times continues to laugh maniacally in your heads - Ͳӈⱻ ∂Ꝏɹ ΐ∫ Ꝋƥꬲ₦!
Bran's hand twitches.
Thrais is up!
Thrais summons up the power of Torag yet again to smite her final foe. Putting all of her power into the blow she rains down a flurry of flaming strikes as her weapon hardens into a diamond sheen.
"You challenge the Diamond Wall? You challenge the dwarves? Foolish!"
It seems the power of stone going through her draws her blows almost magnetically to the giant, a divine hand guiding them. The hardened warrior's attacks are devastating.
Thrais pounds the giant.
He roars in pain and rage and returns the favor.
The giant's earthbreaker again hits Thrais hard, but her brother's shield partially deflects it at the last moment.
The giant's second blow fails to pierce the dwarf's guard. He is clearly faltering.
The owls stay clear of this clash of titans.
Trellara keeps using Total Defense.
Meanwhile, the fabric of space seems to warp and bend around Bran's body.
The tower guards fire the ballista, but again fail to pierce the giant's armor.
Round 5
Active Effects: Enlarge Person (Gaius 44 rounds, Thrais 4 rounds), Shield (Tal'ariel 5 rounds), Communal Protection from Evil (Tal'ariel, Hamailii, Trellara, Thrais, Duric, 6 rounds), Shake It Off (all, 1 rounds), Shield Wall (all, 2 rounds), Inspire Courage +2, Cat's Grace (Tal'ariel, 26 rounds), Haste (Thrais, Duric, Tal'ariel, Gaius, Trellara, Blackthorn, 3 rounds)
Tower Guards
Trellara
Tal'ariel
Gaius
Thrais -66
Duric -32
Giant Owls
Hill Giant (Raging) -103
Knowing better than to fight an enemy hill giant head-on, Tal calls on her dwindling magics to fire a bit of acid before taking a careful step back.
;
Gaius on the other hand happily steps in! (And continues to roll 5 attacks with no crit threats...)
Tal'ariel's acid dart wounds the giant (Inspire Courage also adds to damage there) and Gaius hits once.
The blow almost becomes a resounding hit against her but her stone and diamond skin happens to catch it and turn it into something less fatal.
"Still have fight?"
Seeing her foe beat up, she attacks more conservatively to strike more accurate blows.
She then summons the power of stone to seal up some of her bleeding wounds.
Thrais slams her hammer into the giant with a sickening crunch. It is a fatal blow... though not instantly so. His rage is keeping him alive for one last strike as he pulls back his earthbreaker.
Duric is up!
Seeing how all the hobgoblins fell, Duric lets out a content grunt.
Now to you silly giant. I have no idea what motivated you to come down here from the mountains, but i sure know you better had stayed there!
He throws his hammer at him...
At the first blow from Duric's bounding hammer, the giant falls, his massive weapon crashing to the ground.
The nightmarish voice in your heads grows louder, as the boundary between Golarion and the Boneyard thins and tears.
Ͳӈⱻ ∂Ꝏɹ ΐ∫ Ꝋƥꬲ₦!
A whirlwind of shadow embraces Bran, as his body begins to move.
The sound of the whirlwind is the echoing moans of a thousand souls. And the cackle of the End of Times.
Everybody feels their mind wracked by the insane presence of the End of Times, taking Wisdom damage.
There is a horrid cracking sound as the bones of the dead giant realign and its form struggles to stand. It head twists around backwards and it shouts in the same distorted voice that you hear in your heads,
Then the stars shine brighter, the Stair of Stars most of all, and with a crash of thunder, the shadow-wind vanishes. The door is closed.
The giant's corpse falls back to the ground.
The moon is once again... just the moon.
And Bran O'Dimm lives again. With a huge intake of breath and a series of hacking coughs, he sits up.
He doesn't look quite the same. That would be expected, maybe? But... something is different.
Tal'ariel clutches her head for a moment, unable to bear the sound of Groetus. And then, she sees . . . someone . . . awaken. "Bran? Is that you?"
The elven swordmistress looks on expectantly, wondering if this truly had worked.
Bran wakes up, his arms flailing wildly in front of him as if he was swimming, though he shortly feels that where he is isn't where he was moments ago. His breath is short and he begins coughing up what seems to be a mix between water and stygian darkness.
"What's going on?" The returned brawler looks entirely confused at the situation, blinking and looking at his hands before screaming out, "I can't see right! Its all grays, everything is grays!" However hearing the familiar voices around him he turns and his breathing starts to settle, "I made it to the stairs? The End of Days... he didn't get me right?" He looks tired and his body seems strained and haggard with damage and pure exhaustion, but after what appears to be an hour to him, he regains some semblance of sanity.
"Its me. Who else could it be?" He tries to let out one of his hearty laughs but he just begins coughing, giving a smile he turns to whomever is closest and grabs them hard in an embrace, "I was such a fool." As tears start streaming down his face, its hard to tell whether or not they are of sadness or joy or a bit of both but he keeps going, "I just couldn't... I'm sorry for putting you all through that ordeal... I just couldn't let her escape..."
He continues sobbing and repeating himself, then hears the familiar dangling of the chains of Kurgess still tied to him; and much like a switch he closes his eyes, focuses and takes a moment.
Tal'ariel looks at the man before him. He certainly looks different. Like an otherworldly creature.
Yet beneath that strange exterior was the brave warrior that she could recognize. "Bran! You've returned!" She hurries forward and joins in Bran's embrace. "Group hug!" Tal'ariel's relatively short arms can't really wrap all the way around, but it doesn't matter. "The wrestler of dragons can even outrun death!"
Tal'ariel then turns to Hamailii. "Thank you, thank you, for bringing him back. I don't know what you did, but you cheated Groetus himself to accomplish this. Truly incredible!"
She turns back to Bran. "The essence of the shadow plane seems to have infused your being. It's no wonder the world looks all gray to you."
Tal'ariel determines that Bran has indeed come back tinged with the essence of the Plane of Shadow - he is now a fetchling, for all intents and purposes. He is unused to having Darkvision, which is why he was shocked at seeing everything in shades of grey.
His skin has an ashen-gray pallor that will probably not entirely wear off as he regains his strength. For now, however, he is quite weak.
Hamailii is also exhausted from the ritual, but hears a peaceful music in her head. The song tells her that she has done well.
The potions wear off, and Thrais and Duric return to dwarf-size.
You all move through the gate and into the tunnels of the Hammerfist Holds. The owls could squeeze through the gate and find larger caverns inside, but they would be uncomfortable. They give some hoots that Trellara knows to mean they will return the next evening, and they take off flying. Perhaps they will hunt, or find some woods to roost in.
The heavy gate shuts behind you. A dwarf appears, and in consideration of the elven members, he bears a staff with Continual Flame on it. "I am Haranin. High Priest Thaardin can join you in the morning. I will show you to the Borderland Lodge, our underground accommodations for surface-dwelling guests. We have inns on the surface in other valleys... but I think you need the security."
You pass another guard-post deeper in the tunnel. Two knights of the Diamond Wall salute Thrais and Duric.
The tunnel leads, after about a quarter of a mile, to a sizeable open space, a cavern about 70' across and 30' high. The Borderland Lodge is a sturdy two-story timber building on the floor of the cavern. It is about 40' square. The dwarves have brought dirt from the surface to cover the floor of this cavern. And while they cannot grow flowers or grass down here, they have woven a green wool rug to serve as grass, and crafted several beautiful flowers out of metal. A Continual Flame torch flickers outside the door.
The lodge has numerous small but comfortable bedrooms, a common room where food and drink are served, and a quiet reading library. The proprietor greets you. "More guests? Lots of surface folk stopping by lately," she says. Haranin nods. "There's trouble up top. I wouldn't be surprised if Ervath was on the move soon."
Haranin turns back to you. "If you need any supplies, we can have them brought here, or you can make your way to the shops in the morning."
Thrais and Duric having done their duty, it is now time for them to take their leave.
Tal'ariel offers her farewells to the dwarven siblings. She doesn't imagine that dwarves like hugs, so she just bows in appreciation. "Thrais, Duric. We would not have held our ground there without you. Both of you were magnificent. On behalf of all of us, thank you."
As the proprietor mentions other surface guests, Tal'ariel chimes in. "Are there more folks from the surface down here? As you say, they may have fled trouble. I would be curious to meet them and hear their stories--we have some sense of how the Red Hand has advanced, but first-hand accounts are scarce."
"The world of shadow?" He looks like he is trying to process the situation still but accepts the group hug before extending a hand to Hamaiili, "I would die for you, Desna or anyone you call kin Hamaiili. What you did was something I had only heard of in legend." He goes to scratch the back of his neck, a long gained show of nervousness, but only then a look of shock goes across his face.
"The scars... The brands... They're gone?" Frantically he feels his body, still alien to him, but finds no traces of the Chelish punishments and tortures. Every time his hands run across something his smile grows and the look in his eyes glows, almost the tone that they were before the ordeal. "The Starsong! She really is liberation! That must be the only way. I- I-" Stammering he says whatever prayer he knows and staggers a little, the sudden burst of energy draining him, "We should catch up, but this isn't the place or time." Surveying the field with his newfound darksight he sees nothing but bodies and two dwarves. Trying to puzzle the whole situation out he gives a solemn nod to them and turns to the others, "Let's go."
Asking Gauis for an arm he speaks to the elf, "You barely know me friend and you fought who knows how many terrors for me here, thank you."
--
Bran walks into the hold with the assistance of the others and notices that he is able to peer further than he was before. Shadow plane? He still thinks on what that could mean but decides now isn't the time.
"Tal, How long was I... away?" Bran worries about his words, not trying to upset any of the common or religious folk nearby, "The Hand... They didn't... Did they?"
"No, no, everything's still fine," reassures the elf. "It's just the evening since you passed. We avenged your death and slew the bard and her monstrous beast. I hope you've learned your lesson about when to accept help, though. We are all here for you--you don't have to bear the burden alone."
She considers what happened in the evening with some concern. "We came to the Hammerfist Holds because we were looking for a safe space to do the ritual, which needed to happen under the stars. I thought we wouldn't be noticed. The fact that we were attacked is concerning. There was no reason to come here unless the Red Hand knew about us specifically. I think the enemy has identified us as a threat. This may not be the last attack on us."
Asking Gauis for an arm he speaks to the elf, "You barely know me friend and you fought who knows how many terrors for me here, thank you."
"You are a fine warrior and a good friend Bran. Fighting for you was the least I could do after that Behir!" Gaius replies. His tone is matter-of-fact, but the way he supports the still weak barbarian demonstrates, in a way his words don't, that he does care for his fellow warrior.
Flame nudges Bran's legs, pleased to have her flanking partner (and tripping target) back.
|
Hamailii looks very exhausted, her face red and sweaty, like if she had given birth and then ran a long distance, but she smiles happily, her eyes overflowing and her gaze kind of absent.
Bran, i'm glad i could bring you back. This was an adventure on it's own. I wasn't sure if i could make it, but the Starsong guided me.
She looks at him like a mother on her baby.
Trellara Nightshadow is exhausted. The battles in the Ghostlord's Lair, singing her heart out to counter the Wyrmlord's thunder, depleting all of her spells to keep her friends in the fight and then watching Bran fall in battle unable to save him. Flying to safety, only to be attacked yet again by forces of the Red Hand.
And now Bran is alive again. If not quite the same.
"Bran?"
Tears of exhaustion and relief stream down her face. She embraces Bran, and nods her agreement as Tal'ariel makes her observations about the Shadow Plane.
"The owls... they will come back tomorrow at dusk."
She follows quietly, in a daze, and then collapses into a bed at the Borderlands Lodge.
----
While most of the other guests of the Lodge are asleep at this hour, there are a pair of gnomes sitting in the common room playing chess.
"Ah, good day, or night is it, my fine elf-friend! I am Perplexivus-Peripatetus-Pontificatus-Biscuit-Esotericus-Quandry-Mercantilus -Bonk-Magistratum-Aeronauticus-Expiatory-Zoot-Celestus-Shyka-Mechanicus-"
The other gnome cuts him off. "Perplexivus and Scrapwell. How do you do?"
As you ask what brought them here, Scrapwell responds, "We received a warning from our thrice-cousin Shishka and headed here. This seemed a safe place to be. Not that safe is all that much fun, but better than dead."
They don't have any news about the movements of the Red Hand, other than that they have heard the stream of refugees from Drellin's Ferry coming down the Dawn Way has slowed to a trickle. You had already received word that the evacuation of that town was complete, so now most of them have gotten to Brindol.
In the morning, another pair of Diamond Wall knights arrive to escort Hamailii to the outside, where she can be most comfortable doing her prayers.
An hour later, High Priest Thaardin Ironhand arrives at the Lodge. As before, he has his long blacksmith's apron with rune-plates, and his forge hammer. His long white beard is braided a bit differently today.
"It worked? The Elixir of Second Chances, and the ritual to Desna? Praise be."
He can't quite believe it, and extends a calloused hand to grip Bran's arm.
"It worked! I can tell the experience took a toll on you, but you live! I may be able to restore your strength... there is an incantation that has only rarely been used, but Torag may grant me the ability to succeed."
"Come with me, to Sahnel, my clanhold. To our main temple. I can have my priests add their blessings to your weapons and armor while I prepare the ritual to restore Bran's strength. It may take a few days to complete these tasks, but I believe you have time. We can send your owls to another of the valleys with more watch-towers and ballistas."
Haranin had left the Continual Flame staff with you, and now Thaardin takes it as he leads you down the tunnels. You get the sense that these were once natural caves, expanded and improved by the dwarves. As you get deeper, the tunnels get a bit wider, though in places they do narrow to well-guarded choke-points. There is a great variety of public art along the tunnels, from statues of dwarven heroes to bas-reliefs of historical scenes and intricate geometric sculptures.
The High Priest talks as you walk, periodically sipping tea from a large tankard to soothe his aged voice.
"As to how much time you have, we have just received word that the Red Hand took Drellin's Ferry two days ago. The tree-speaker Thom Oaktall sent word with a raven to one of our watch-towers. Whatever food couldn't be taken was burned, so it will take the Red Hand some time to replenish their supplies. Warklegnaw, Avarthel, and Thom will make it hard for them to gather food in the Witchwood. They won't reach Brindol for another three weeks at the least."
It is about an hour's walk to Sahnel, a village within the Hammerfist Holds. It consists of about twenty "estates," multi-generation family homes that also serve as shops.
The clanging of hammers grows louder as you approach the Temple of Torag. This is a vast stone edifice sitting in a massive cavern. A shaft in the cavern ceiling reaches to the sky, allowing the smoke of the forge to escape and bringing in sunlight and fresh air.
"The advantage of your owls is speed, not stealth. They drew some attention in Brindol, and in the countryside. The Red Hand has both scouts and spies. It is our guess that they may have known that you stopped here on your way to the Thornwaste. It is possible that Tiamat has granted them some magic to spy - such things are rumored in legend - but they definitely use more familiar means of intelligence. They have small warbands all over the lands, typically led by a ranger on a wyvern. You did well to ensure that none of that band escaped."
The High Priest goes into a back room of the temple and emerges with an immense iron-bound tome. Its pages seem to be of some treated leather.
"Aha! Here it is. Yes, yes, I can get that from Sahnar... Othrek has some of that... Ulrdina can help with that part..."
He looks up. "This ritual will work. It will take a few days to prepare. But I can have my smiths work on your armor and weapons so your time here is not wasted."
Bran saw many sights but was unused to so many dwarves. Even in his days doing caravaning it wasn't quite a common sight. He enjoyed the company though and while the travelers in the lodge asked their stories, he tried to stray away from the whole ordeal of the return. The shadow-infused human was still trying to understand everything he saw in the Boneyard.
When High Priest Thaardin Ironhand walked in, Bran welcomed the stability the man brought to the lodge. "It worked, though I'm not quite at my full strength, it feels like my body and mind aren't quite attached to where they're supposed to be... It's hard to explain." He returns the gesture and a smile comes across his face hearing that it wasn't a permanent problem.
"Wherever the Hand is going to be, I will be, but you're right... We should stop at Sahnel beforehand. There's no need to go into battle without preparations and whatever blessings we can take." Three weeks. This ends in three weeks. One way or another this war ends.
"Do you know anything about Tiamat? The Queen of Dragons worries me, even if she isn't manifest." He asks the High Priest, his mind slowly returning to the keen way it once was. "Whatever I can do to help here in the hold I will. We can rest when this war is done, I won't sit and recover if I can help somehow."
"I wish my father were here to see this place. He was--is--an expert blacksmith, and crafted my sword. He would have really enjoyed learning from you. And probably boasting of his own uniquely elven methods of craftsmanship. It would have been something else if you could work together to craft. A weapon that combines dwarven strength and elven grace would be fearsome indeed."
Tal'ariel sets down her sword before the dwarves who would help her enchant it. "I guess I'll have to be the one to work with you instead. In truth, I feel naked setting this weapon down. It's a conduit not only for my swordsmanship but my magics. Leaving it for even a moment makes me feel vulnerable. Please take good care of it. I'll return to help soon, but I also need some time to further my study of magics."
Finding a space with some solitude, away from the clanging of hammer and anvil, Tal'ariel begins to inscribe magics into her spellbook. When she had called forth magical speed on her allies, she had been reaching beyond her training. And yet, in that moment of need, her eyes had opened to new possibilities. The explanations from Immerstal the Red had been just words, but now, with experience, Tal could feel it. Learning was becoming understanding. Calling upon the memory of what she had done, Tal'ariel began writing furiously, blending words, symbols, and gestures to unlock magics more potent than any she had dared touch before.
The party spends the first day talking with dwarves, going over the details of the Red Hand's movements.
A few dwarven scholars share what information they can on Tiamat, though it it not anything more than the party has uncovered to date. The dwarves have not had extensive dealings with the Queen of Dragons or her cults.
Trellara is working on a composition of some sort. She seems deep in thought. That evening, she visits the surface with guards to check in with the giant owls. They are all in good health and good spirits, though slightly worried at why the People of the Forest have chosen to live underground. Trellara assures them it is temporary. They agree to return the following evening.
Gaius and Flame are free to wander about. The dwarves marvel over his katanas as they set about enchanting them further.
Hamailii is welcome to watch the stars from the shafts and fissures to the surface. The Quest for Sky did mean something to the dwarves, after all, so they are not totally subterranean. Or the dwarves can send escorts to keep Hamailii safe if she wishes to go out into the valleys. Although few dwarves understand the Desnan way, they recognize Hamailii as a force for Good.
A dwarven scholar-bard introduces herself as Uldrina Flamehair. Accompanied by a quiet master smith, the bard examines Tal'ariel's Elven Curve Blade and works with her to enchant it. Because the blade is tied to Tal'ariel's soul, Ulrdina needs the elf to be present for much of the ritual. Uldirina lends her arcane power, intoning chants while the smith undertakes the most delicate work with the blade - tracing runes, sprinkling on esoteric powders in exactly the right places, and making a few precise strikes with a forge-hammer.
High Priest Thaardin would be there himself, but he has another task to deal with. He is occupied with tomes the first day, but then comes with an answer for Bran the following morning.
"Returning from the Boneyard is an extraordinary ordeal. Even a champion of the Strong Man would be weakened by it. But we have rituals to restore vitality. Most often used if a dwarf is struck by a wight or wraith, but they may be of service here. Adapting this ritual for non-dwarves is unclear, but I believe we must first make an offering to your god."
Thrais returns and nods at the warrior. She seems vaguely uncomfortable at first, but does her duty. "Bran. Let us begin."
From dawn until dusk, one dwarf after another challenges Bran. They set heavy weights for him to lift, and bring him to sheer rock walls to climb. He hurls javelins and rocks, he wrestles and races, and he tries his hand at every athletic contest the dwarves know. Sometimes he wins. He crushes the dwarves at the Long Jump, that isn't even close. Sometimes he loses. But he honors Kurgess throughout, and neither cheats nor quits, and is gracious in victory and defeat.
Exhausted and dripping with sweat, he is pushed even harder. Finally, at dusk, the priestly ritual begins. Bran gets a few minutes' break to drink some water. Then High Priest Thaardin Ironhand and three junior priests chant and anoint Bran with oils. The tests of might resume in earnest.
There are more races, more weight-lifting, with fanfares of horns and drums.
Then for the final challenge, Thrais, Duric, and Haranin enter their Defensive Stance and try to hold their ground as Bran tries to force his way past.
Twice he fails and is pushed back by the Diamond Wall, but he gathers his strength for a third try. Calling on the might of Kurgess, he pushes past Haranin.
The dwarves congratulate him on a contest well fought.
They invite him to sit down, relax, and have a drink... and he notices that the chanting has stopped.
High Priest Thaardin approaches him, tankard in hand. At this hour, the aged priest's tankard contains not tea but ale.
"How do you feel?"
Bran realizes that while he is in a great deal of pain, that will fade. On another level, he feels whole.
That evening, Trellara again checks in with the owls. They report that they slew a manticore that was coming too close to the Hammerfist Holds. Phantom has some wounds that the bard is able to heal.
The next morning, the dwarves have news.
High Priest Thaardin brings it. He is once again drinking tea. His voice is more hoarse than usual, perhaps because of the ritual.
"So. Lord Kerden Jarmaath has sent for aid. I have told you that we must keep our most elite forces here for defense, but not all dwarves in the Hammerfist Holds are Knights of the Diamond Wall.
There are also the Shining Axe Company. These are mercenaries under the command of Captain Ervath Helmbreaker. He is a clan-lord in his own right, and his personal forces are his to use as he wishes. Ervath retains a small force to watch his own Hold, but generally the Shining Axes go where they are hired. As long as the cause is, at the least, not contrary to our ways.
The gold arrived in the middle of the night. The goblins tried to attack the envoys carrying the gold, but friends of yours came to their aid. A giant tree-speaker wildman. A haunted elf. A priestess of Iomedae. A gnome with a firearm. A halfling scout. They slew the raiders, and the gold made it here. Now, Ervath will send the Shining Axe Company to Brindol.
They set out in three days. We will be done with your enchantments by then. I know you will ride your owls, but if you go with the company, you can scout the land for their movements, and camp with them at night. What say you?"
"Ah, indeed that is good news. Friends of ours indeed who are fighting their own battles for the Vale." Tal'ariel thinks of the good people they had adventured beside in the recent days.
"It may be wise for us to travel with the Shining Axe Company. If not, there is danger that the will be assaulted on the road." She addresses her companions. "What do you think? We've done a lot so far--where else can we go where we will be of use?"
"More blades is always a good thing." Gaius agrees, eager to be above ground again. Watching the dwarves work has been a fascinating experience for one as concerned with swords as he is, but the entire experience of being underground for so long has been unpleasant for an elf more used to forests and the open sky.
"Okay! Traveling with the Shining Axes sounds like the way forward. And we can return to Brindol to share our knowledge and plan our next move."
Tal'ariel thanks the High Priest and offers some pleasantries, but her mind is clearly elsewhere. Soon, she begs her leave. "If you'll excuse me, I should return to Uldrina and continue work on my blade."
Returning to Uldrina Flamehair, she remarks on the fine filligree lines that are now etched into the blade. "I was scared to let this blade be handled by anyone else, and yet in truth it is safer in your hands than it would be in mine. This is magnificent! A blade that shall strike fear into the hearts of the goblin horde." She continues her hard work on completing the enchantments to the sword. And there would be no rest for her in the evening as she focused on refining her powers of wizardry. Her fatigue was counteracted by her determination to prepare for the challenges yet to come.
The trials were unlike anything he had ever faced, he had done difficult tasks before but something like this was different. The sacred aspect of it all hit him to the very core and he nearly forgot the reason he was in such a situation. Throughout the day he noticed he was more nimble than before, he was capable of moving a little faster than he was able to... though he noticed his strength waned faster as well. His body had become more lithe as a whole and while it took some getting used to, he soon felt at home again. Whatever stole his soul, whatever kept part of him in the Boneyard... he felt it wash away once the chanting was done.
"I feel fine. Tired but fine." He takes a large swig of water, "The exhaustion is something I can handle but what I felt before, Groetus and the Boneyard, that shook me down to the very core." However after finishing the water his eyes look sunken and his breath fails to regain its normal composure. "Maybe I do need to rest after all." Embracing the High Priest and all that assisted him is an ordeal in itself, the stench of oil and sweat on him though he fails to notice it until he gets too close. "Oh. Right." He gives a smile to them and begins laughing heartily, the same laugh that was heard when he grappled the other dragons and wrestled what he could. The same laugh that echoed when he managed to make it out of Cheliax.
Bran felt new, then suddenly blackness as he collapses on the floor.
The next morning he awakes not on the floor of where he started but in a bed. Deciding to do some minor work to talk with the others he hops out, still cognizant of his weakness and carries toward the party. Hearing about the Shining Company and the goblin raid Bran weighs in on it, "I'll be ready in two days of rest, I can set out before that but who knows what we will encounter." A determined look comes across his face, "We won't allow them to be raided, but we do have to inform Brindol of what we now know."
|
|
Hamailii, herself being exhausted from the ritual, had taken a good deal of rest and spend a lot of time with her own equipment, but enjoys mingling with the dwarves and her friends as well.
Bran i am so glad that i could bring you back. The horrors of the greeat beyond are plentyful and it is easy for us mortal to get lost or fall into the hands of something awful. Luckily Desna watched over us and guided you! We should all take our time and recover. I can prepare a spell that will help you recover.
As High Priest Thaardin brings the news about the Shining Axe Company, Hamailii is somewhat happy.
That is good news i guess, that some of the dwarves will help defend Bristol! We should really accompagny them, so they make it there safely.
As Bran passes out, she helps to bring him back to his chamber, taking care of him, but also scolding him the next day.
You should really care more for yourself! I feel like a mother now who has to watch out for a silly son!
"Bran..." says Trellara, "What was it like? What did you see?"
---
Two more days pass while the equipment is finished, Bran's health is restored, and the Shining Axe Company musters. That is a total of four nights in the Hammerfist Holds.
The dwarves' craftsmanship is as exceptional as their reputation suggests.
The Shining Axe Company numbers nearly 200, under the command of Captain Ervath Helmbreaker. While they do not approach your skill, they seem quite well-trained as you watch them drill. In the morning, the quartermaster announces that they are ready to march, and the company heads out.
The giant owls have been returning every evening to check in, and the prior evening they had been told to come back in the morning. They do, and you mount up and start flying towards Brindol, scouting ahead of the dwarves.
The dwarves only march about 20 miles per day, and that is on a forced march. Short dwarf legs. It is a slower pace than you are used to - but, it means your scouting can ensure this military force avoids any major ambushes, and it means you can rest safely at night.
You fly ahead, seeing a few bands of small hobgoblins roaming the foothills of the Wyvernwatch Mountains; they scatter upon seeing you. There is a sign of a bulette underground near the surface, but even such a ferocious creature turns and tunnels the other way at detecting the thunderous footsteps of such a large group.
The first day passes uneventfully. There isn't much in the way of settlement in the foothills, and most of those who do live here have received warnings through the grapevine. So you don't see any signs of Red Hand attacks other than a few signs of haphazardly butchered sheep and goats.
The dwarves make camp at the crossroads just north of the Hammerfist Holds.
(Map)
The next town on the invasion plan map is Terrelton. This was the town with the thoroughly corrupt Merchant's Council that was in cahoots with the bandits of the Black Knives gang. By the invasion plan map, the Red Hand would hit here a week after taking Drellin's Ferry. That would be the coming day or night. Back in Brindol, a week ago now, you had heard from Shiska and Dingle that Terrelton was being evacuated. The gnomes told you that the Black Knives had kept up their end of the agreement (forced upon the Merchants Council by Lielle, the priestess of Abadar). They had refrained from attacking the refugee caravans and had provided reports of Red Hand movements. Presumably in exchange for increased 'protection fees' from the Merchants' Council, but the Merchants' Council have only themselves to blame.
"Our orders," says Captain Helmbreaker, "are to go to Brindol with all possible haste. We will take the Talar Road to the northeast, then the Dawn Way from Talar to Brindol.
If you want to go the other way, northwest, you could scout out towards Terrelton to see if the Red Hand has reached there. Meet us tonight at the crossroads with the Dauth road. Talar the next night, and Brindol the night after that. If you go check out Terrelton, you won't be able to scout for us today, and we won't be around to back you up - but you might gain some valuable intelligence."
What would the party like to do? Stay with the dwarves, or scout out the Red Hand?
Bran looks at Trellara, "I saw a great, vast place... Statues of heroes and memorials to the way they fell." He puts his hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eyes, "He was there too. He had a place just for him, a statue of his own to celebrate his life and sacrifices."
Seeing the Desnan he nods silently, "You're absolutely right. I doubt I would have had the strength to make it through had Kurgess and Desna not intervened." Hearing that she considered herself a mother he gives a laugh and a wide smile, "I won't disappoint you then. I've learned a lot in this short time but I think that final lesson was the hardest." He reveals his unscathed back, "There are no more chains that bind me, my soul and heart is free and we will spread this freedom to the land... Together."
---
Bran wants to err on temperance and safety but he knows the value of planning in advance, a lesson recently burned into him. "I think we need to find the Band and see what has changed. I want to know what we're doing is causing damage, I want to know where we need to hit next and see what we can strip from them."
Gaius nods his agreement to Bran's thoughts. "Knowledge is power. If we scout the army and the terrain maybe we can find weaknesses, destroy foraging parties - anything to slow them down."
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Bran, you don't have to do anything special to make me proud of you. You already did unbelievable things and sacrificied yourself! I'm happy when you are alive and happy.
Even though it is dangerous, i agree that scouting might be worth it. I guess the dwarves can hold their own, hopefully they don't run into a larger force. I'm pretty impressed by them, they are very traditional and keep their ways. Seems to give them strength and grounding. I spend so much time away from home, i didn't really care about the ways of my people so far or our traditions.
Hamailii looks thoughtfull, but determined.
Tal'ariel emerges from the dwarven hold more confident in her abilities than before. It was a season of change, and Bran was not the only one who had changed.
"We can scout ahead but we should be smart about it. Trouble is now following us, so it is best if we do not attract more of it needlessly."
"Thank you, Bran," says Trellara. There are tears in her eyes as she thinks of her brother.
As Terrelton comes into view in the mid-morning, the dusty haze that Bran and Tal'ariel remember is diminished. There aren't any herds in the fields and hills around the town.
You do see a thin column of smoke rising from the town, but can't tell at this time what is causing it. It's probably not the whole town burning. There are some specks moving in the air above the town that could be wyverns or manticores, so you land behind a hill to consider your next move. You are about half mile from the town.
Your owls are Huge, and there isn't any cover when flying, so they could be spotted at a decent distance. You made sure to come out of the sun when approaching, which kept the enemy from seeing you at this time.
You could approach on foot, likely doing decently well with Stealth considering distance modifiers. Trellara only has Vanish, which doesn't last very long, so invisible scouting is not really an option.
Or, you could just do a fly-by on the owls, not worry about Stealth, and count on speed to keep you safe - maybe even lure a few of their flyers after you to eliminate.
Or, you could move on to the next town on the road (Nimon Gap).
Or, you could do something else.
"Let's move on foot and get an idea of the size of their force before we commit to using the owls, the dwarves said that it was the reason why we were attacked during the ritual and I would hardly want them to know that we know of them." Bran listens to the others' comments on the matter before continuing on, "If they have little air mobility we can decide on a course of action after, but we need to learn of this town and their raiding forces."
You sneaks closer to the town to about 300' away. Tal'ariel goes in for a closer look. She finds some cover from trees or rocks and gets to within about 150' of the town center. She moves stealthily within the cover at a good enough distance to not be spotted.
The town looks even more deserted than when you first visited, although it seems to have fewer buildings than before. Some may have been cannibalized to make wagons. One building's absence is clear: Shiska's home/shop is a smoldering crater, with several dead goblins and worgs around it. Her booby traps must have worked.
Tal'ariel counts around 20 worg-riders on the ground going building to building and searching. Flying above, Tal'ariel counts two manticores, three wyverns, and what she recognizes as a heiracosphinx - a dim-witted and evil falcon-headed sphinx. Looks quite a bit like a griffon, actually. Two wyverns have riders with bows; the sphinx has a rider with a lance. Clearly, the Red Hand also has its advance scouts.
Amidst the worgs, Tal'ariel recognizes a wolf-demon - a Barghest, like the one that you fought before that kept escaping you.
Tal'ariel of course uses Message before scouting ahead, and gives her report of everything she sees.
Tal'ariel whispers to the others.
"With the numbers as they are, we could try to engage the two manticores, three wyverns, and heiracosphinx, if we can lure them away from the many worg-riders. I don't see any obvious leaders of this group. Maybe the Barghest?"
She continues to observe. Did it look like a larger force had come through here, or were these the only forces that had arrived thus far?
The ground on this side of the town doesn't seem to have any signs of a huge army having passed by.
"That seems to be a good sign then Tal, if you want to hit and run I am always ready to do so. I don't know how effective we'll be in the air though. Do any of you know what this sphinx is capable of?"