Wulfgith gladly follows the lead of the others and takes aim with her bow, letting her arrows join those of her allies as they fly through the air.
A barrage of arrows flies toward the nearest troll at long range. First Bregghar's taut string reverberates across the valley. Next the mighty Knight of Minas Tirith adds his bow to the harmony of death. Amalina draws and fires, plunges two arrows into troll flesh, and Wulfgith's greatbow sings a song of malice, completing the great chorus of wrath!
Troll 1 takes 41 damage!
The troll let's out a hideous battle cry, directing the rest to break into a run toward your position! (Trolls dash 60'. Range is now 80')
Cereidh, for the moment, holds her position, although careful to remain back and to the side of Findegil so that she might take refuge if needed.
Seeing her first two arrows hit the mark, Amalina lets out a quick grunt of satisfaction as she sets, draws and fires two more feathered shafts.
As they wing toward their intended targets, Winter growls softly at her side.
"Don't worry." Amalina says to the big hound. "We'll be in the thick of it with those beasts soon enough."
Findegil cannot help but feel slightly irritated that Estel appears to be biding his time.
These thoughts distract him and his arrows go wild.
Taking her chance to get another pair of shots off, Wulfgith took aim and released twice more.
"Didn't we learn that last time?" Wulfgith asked as she got ready take aim again.
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Estel jumps up from his place amidst the archers at the crest of the moor, greatsword held at the shoulder, pointed toward the slate gray sky.
A hail of arrows from Wulfgith, Gylwinth, and Cereidh arc above the mighty warrior, with each battle maiden drilling shafts deep into troll flesh!
Troll 1 takes 41+21 damage and dies!
Troll 2 takes 8 damage!
Two of the trolls converge on Estel, but he is ready. His sword strikes at the belly of the nearest monster.
Troll 3 takes 34 damage!
Amalina's bow resounds from the crest, the first arrow slicing deep into her target!
Troll 3 takes 34+10 damage!
The last lumbering troll closes on Estel as Findegil looses two arrows harmlessly into the night.
Estel shouts a loud, clear tone that reverberates across the battlefield. You feel it in your bones and your spirits are lifted!
Feeling annoyed for his ill-thoughts, Findegil takes heart from Estel's clear show of how he intends to fight. The knight looses another pair of arrows, this time at the troll Estel has just struck!
He calls:
"We will stand! They will fall!"
Once per battle, you may have a nearby ally automatically hit on what was a missed attack.
Amalina draws Hope's Fury and lets forth a wild battle cry of her own as she rushes forward to engage the trolls before they can try and surround Estel. With Winter at her side, woodwoman and hound become a blur of steel and snarling teeth flashing in the light of the full moon. Her axe slashes into the troll she'd already wounded with her arrows, sinking deep into foul flesh once and then again. At the same moment, Winter grabs a chunk of troll leg, ripping and tearing with a snarling hatred for all things of shadow.
Cereidh fires her greatbow at one of the trolls engaging Findegil, the one currently safer from Amalina and Winter's fangs of steel and ivory - it will not be let alone for long!
"Let us make the dent into a hole!" Wulfgith said as she let fly two more arrows towards the second Troll.
Estel spins in a great arc, his powerful blade cutting though the air, dealing death to another troll!
Troll 3 takes 44+20 damage and dies!
Wulfgith strings two more arrows, and both sink deep into the stinking hide of her enemy! Gylwinth hits the same target, and Cereidh strikes for the heart with a pair of tightly-grouped shafts!
Troll 2 takes 8+37 damage!
The only fresh troll brings its wrath down on Estel, first with its fists and then with a bite!
After taking a bite out of Estel, the troll roars a fearsome bellow at the great man! But Estel is not deterred!
Amalina and Winter converge on the trolls. The first swing from the woodwoman's axe cute the belly of the monster, spilling its guts and bringing it down!
Troll 2 takes 45+20 damage and dies!
She turns her ire against the final troll, and she and Winter each deal painful cuts.
Troll 4 takes 19 damage!
Findegil shoots twice, scoring hits against the fearsome creature!
Troll 4 takes 19+8 damage!
Estel swings again, his greatsword cutting deeply into the final troll.
Troll 4 takes 26+19 damage!
The troll panics and turns to run, opening itself up to a fatal blow!
Troll 4 takes 45+12 damage and dies!
Estel cleans the length of his blade first with a clump of snow and then with his cloak. "Please, your resources are scarce and we met yet need them in a more dire hour. This is a very minor wound. If you clean and dress it I am most grateful."
Rubbing Hope's Fury with snow, Amalina cleans the blade and slips it back into the loop on her belt. For just a moment she is stunned by the sudden and nearly complete destruction of the trolls with only Estel suffering a wound from the beasts. So very different from what happened in the keep. A difference that simply reinforces her belief that the placed is truly cursed.
Her eyes drift back over to Estel holding his arm as Gylwinth tended his wound. They had fought side by side, if only for a moment. He was truly a master of that great blade he carries. But many warriors carry fancy swords and practice in the yard to become skilled. Yet few can withstand being charged by a pack of lumbering bellowing trolls with the same kind of courage, calm and quiet strength as Estel had. Truly a warrior.
Amalina's heart flutters slightly as Gylwinth finishes tying off a bandage, giving Estel's arm a kindly pat as she makes sure the binding is tight, but not too much so. The jealousy that slips through her mind causes her to turn away, ashamed and embarrassed. She needed to get her feelings under control. She'd seen others turned by the shadow through such feelings and she did not want to fall prey to the Dark One is such a way. Truly she needed to talk with the Lady Arwen when they returned to Rivendell.
To turn her mind from such thoughts, she and Winter work on collecting her arrows and searching the trolls for anything that may be of use in the hunt for the captain.
Cereidh hunts among the snow for arrows, shuffling her hand through the light layer to try to find the shafts or feathers.
"That was well done, Estel. - Amalina, is there any hope that Winter could help us smell more stinking troll, if this be a thorough-fare, or would this mess here mask it even for him?"
While Gylwinth tended to Estel, Wulfgith sought out some amount of arrows. The group was low, herself included, though if asked she'd say this was a great success.
Cereidh looks a little abashed, but also grateful. "I won't sit on the sidelines and refuse to swing bare steel," she says, "but I wouldn't compare to Findegil or Estel! I'll make the best use I can of any arrows."
"Fine shooting and an awesome display of swordwork. Trolls slain and few wounds is a grand outcome."
Findegil seeks arrows but finds none.
"Cereidh, I use far fewer arrows than you and use them less well. Take eight of mine."
You double the watches for the remainder of the night, but it passes without further incident. You realize that the snow will make for a long day in difficult terrain, and get started early after a light breakfast.
The Misty Mountains now dominate the sky to the east, and by mid day, you are climbing the foothills. Estel maintains a brisk pace, his long, powerful legs making strides none of you can follow without leaping, but you share the sense that you must make the Broadcleave before nightfall, or be hemmed in by darkness and at the mercy of the elements.
Summiting the last barren hill west of the mountainside, you descend along a rocky crag, and soon find yourselves following an ancient path hewn from the stones. Along the path there are steps deeper and wider than the stride of any Troll. Many of the steps are long broken, or have been hacked away in turn, to allow for the passage of smaller beings. The path eventually leads down into a cavernous, sparsely forested ravine, which resembles nothing so much as an axe-strike deep into the base of the mountainside.
You emerge into a wide valley. The floor is dotted with pine trees coated in a thin layer of ice which shines like crystal. In the setting sun, the dale is serene, and absolutely breathtaking in it's winter beauty.
Making ground quickly over the flattened valley floor, you soon see in the near distance that the valley reaches deeper into the mountains here before winding around the northern headwaters of the Hoarwell. But to your dismay, the way is partially blocked by an astounding stand of barrels of all sizes. There are big barrels, small barrels, casks, kegs, butts, drums, pipes, kilderkins, hogsheads, and a great variety of large drinking vessels, including jugs, horns, pitchers, and flagons.
You hear low, harsh voices, and immediately find cover amongst the last line of trees. From there you see five massive trolls busily arranging the barrels in stacks for some purpose.
Estel crouches and whispers, "That is the entrance to the Broadcleave. There is no other path." He points to the sheer walls of rock on either side. "In better conditions, with the right gear, an experienced climber might get around, but..." His voice trails off.
The sun sets behind you as you observe the trolls. But before you decide what to do about them, a loud, gruff voice bellows from deeper in the Broadcleave, and they set their work down and withdraw to follow it.
Tonight the sky is clear. There will be moonlight.
"Perhaps food?" Cereidh muses quietly, from where she crouches behind the body of a convenient tree. "Even Shadow-creatures must eat, and if they're outfitting for a nest ..."
Despite the cold and snow, Amalina can't help but feel a bit of awe at the mighty mountain range. The freshly snowcapped peaks towering and dominating the brilliant Western sky. Their various glaciers and snowfields lit up with soft yellows, pinks, and oranges as the sun starts to drift lower and lower toward the horizon.
Used to being on her feet and hiking long distances, even her legs start to grow weary keeping up with the long strides and fast pace set by Estel. But she too felt the urgency. The need to make some kind of shelter before the weather turns sour once again. So the woodwoman marshals her inner reserves and pushes on. All the while she marvels as Winter continues to trot happily ahead, the hounds seemingly endless reserve of energy easily keeping up with Estel's league eating pace.
When they come upon the valley, with its pyramid of barrels and stores, as chill dread runs down her spine.
"That's more food than a simple nest will require." She says, watching as the trolls stomp away deeper into the forested vale. "Five trolls, guarding stores. We just encountered four on the trail. Three others back at the keep, a minor outpost, but also digging tunnels. Obviously more beasts lurk deeper in that wood."
A worried frown crosses her features as she watches carefully for any sign of new arrivals. As well as scanning the trail to estimate the numbers that have passed recently. "What if this captain really is having success raising an army? An army of trolls from across the Trollfells, Coldfells, and Ettenmoors. What was it that ghost Feredrun said? 'His plans were nearly complete?' Or something along those lines. "
"We do need to see what's inside those barrels. Then we should try to scout further into the valley if we can. It may be this is too much for us few and we're better off making sure the Council learns about this so an army can be raised in time."
Between each long rest, you may make a DC 15 Wisdom (Survival) ability check. On a success, the Loremaster must give you a useful piece of information about a quarry you are hunting or a place you are seeking. If you get 25 or higher as a result, the information gleaned may very well seem near-miraculous to others.
"I think it a fearsomely large chance of detection, unless those barrels be full of iron. But it would behoove us to at least know what supplies require four trolls to guard."
Amalina whistles softly as she raises her head from the cold ground, brushing a bit of crusty snow from her hair.
"It's not just a handful of trolls down in that valley." She says softly, glancing around at her companions. "I can't be entirely sure of the numbers, but there aren't just five or six of the big monsters down there. There are dozens. Dozens. Trolls and possibly others large creatures, maybe a giant or two. It's hard to be sure this far away."
She glances back down at the valley. "It's going to be tough sneaking in. We certainly aren't looking at defeating them all alone."] A pause as she rubs her chin thoughtfully.
"If this is anything like that bunch at the keep, there'll be Men folk down there as well. We could cover up, disguise ourselves well enough to get in, get a look, and then get back out. If we stay to the sidelines and shadows, bluff our way through, we might at least get a look at numbers. Overhear a plan or two. Maybe find the stables to see if Wulfgith's horse is here. If so, find a way to get him out without drawing the wrath of the whole lot down upon us."
"We could grab a couple of them smaller barrels. Say we were ordered to bring 'em to the leaders tent or some such." She shakes her head. "Don't know how we get in otherwise, unless we willing to take the risk of skulking through the night in a strange land and creatures who can smell us coming in the wind turns against us."
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Wulfgith silently listened to when everyone said, and the ideas brought forth. She was in agreement that they couldn't go in there arrows flying and blades swinging. This was going to be a hard problem to solve.
"Her." Wulfgith corrected softly. "Though we may have a small problem with blending in. Our clothes are not of this area, and while the creatures may not notice any men folk would, and then there is the fact that most of us are women. While we know we can fight just as the best, those here will not have been exposed or use to it. Those who have a keen eye or have been here long enough will know we are "new" here. We'll have to talk our way through a great deal which will make our chances of getting caught much higher. So I'd keep that in mind as well." She pointed out.
"Also if you haven't noticed," Wulfgith removed her helm to show her mythril colored hair. "some of us stick out." She said as she motioned to herself and Cereidh, who was the only one that had a drastic look that was different from the others. "My hair can be hidden under a helm, but the one I wear is clearly of my people... And anyone who knows anything about them will recognize this helm. But I don't know if they'll react well to seeing an elf along side us... which means if we're going to do this, we're going to need to be on point, and ready to run at a moment's notice. We all know we can't take this whole place on... So if we get in there, and get caught, we'll have to run. We should look at all exits as we enter, just so we know the ways we can get out." Wulfgith sighed a bit, after the last massive fight this group had faced she had been thinking more on their task at hand. The amounts of enemies they could face and win, and those they could face and lose. "Have I mentioned I've a really bad feeling about this? Though I more blame that on this place..."
Anyone who wants to check out the barrels roll Stealth and Investigation.
"Wulfgith, how willing are you to take this risk? For, while it is a grander risk than even most elves - if I would call myself like most - can really think of, see in their mind's eye, that this tumor might be growing against all of goodly life. But you have a debt owed to your steed, and that at least is more immediate."
"I myself - I am willing. With the rest of you at my side, and only then. But I grant that I'm as skeptical of blending successfully with this crowded Shadow-place as I am that a goblin would not be noticed trying to take food from my father's feasts. - Estel, what do you think? There is still the option of returning to the Council, or someplace where we can safely send word."
"I never said I wasn't willing." Wulfgith pointed out. "I am getting swiftkiss back, but I can't do that if I'm dead. We almost lost our lives the last time we fought against number that were too great, I'm just saying this time we go with our head on right. We can't get blind sides again..."
"I have suspicions about what is happening here," begins Estel in response to Cereidh. "It is wise to inform the Council in Imladris, but what will we tell them? We have come too far to return without knowing what compels so many giant-kind to assemble in this place."
Amalina nods, hearing her companions concerns. There really were too many things that could go wrong in a quick and deadly way. Finally she nods at Gylwinth's suggestion.
"Maybe stealth is best under the circumstances." She concedes. "But let us all move to within bow range of the stockpile. That way at least we'll have a little cover should a hidden guard challenge us or try to sound the alarm."
She looks down at the mountainous horde of barrels and crates.
"Perhaps once we are closer to the vale, we'll find a less used and obvious path deeper into the valley. As for who should go, I think Cereidh with her elven grace moves quietest of us all."
"I agree with bow range for those of us unsuited to quiet work. Once we know more, we can decide whether deception is a viable plan."
Gylwinth nods, then follows Amalina's lead to sneak forward.
No, each player rolls their own skills without advantage, unless you have a character feature that allows it. I think the idea of Helping with Stealth doesn't make a lot of sense.
Stealth and Investigation for the players going to the barrels. the rest of you can get within long range of your bows without arousing suspicion - no need to roll unless you want to do something else.