I draw my longbow and shuffle my steed a little closer. before aiming an arrow at the creature.
Remaining invisible, Helaku moves back up onto the edge of the road between the living and dead ettins making sure to keep himself well out of the creature's reach.
Satisfied with the result of my attacks, I draw yet another couple of arrows to keep up the attack, while at the same time wincing in sympathy for the blows that Ambrose is absorbing "Dayum, if that was me I'd have been worm food already. Amazing what a punishment Ambrose can handle and still attack. Ehlonna, if you're hearing this, please protect him, even if his own patron is already on the job."
Leonar fires another bolt of lightning at the remaining getting.
Damage
Reflex DC 18 for half.
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Round 3 continued
Aleste nudges his horse closer, drawing his bow and firing at the big clod. The arrow hits, but the giant must have thick skin because it doesn't even seem to notice the arrow shaft sticking out of its leg.
The giant turns, lifting a leg to squash Fang as the wolf dances around nipping at the ettin's heels. As the giant draws a fungal foot back for the kick, another bolt of lightning crashes down from the heavens. The ettin is blasted off its feet, and Aleste just manages to jolt his horse out of the way of the collapsing body. Victory is yours!
As the dust clears, two ettin corpses lie across the road, and the wagon burns along with the cadre of goblin bodies. Your are soon able to dowse the burning chests, though the wagon has pretty much had it. There are three locked coffers, and the locks on them are pretty well made.
A quick check of the human bodies confirms that each is past saving. Two are wearing breastplates emblazoned with the rampant lion of Briondol, while the other four are dressed in the livery of that city's guard contingent, blue and white surcoats with a golden lion embroidered on the chest.
These guardsmen were a long way from Brindol. From what you can surmise, the goblins must somehow have surprised the wagon, buying time to allow the two ettins to catch up with the wagon.
------
ettin Reflex
Ambrose accepts the beating from the Ettin with both grit and grunts. He shores up his resilience with all he can muster, but knows that the blows were quickly taking their toll, and doubts his ability to withstand more. When the lightning strikes down from above, Ambrose himself starts and jumps a bit in the saddle, but breathes a sigh of relief when the ettin goes down. The knight slumps in his saddle after that, exhausted and relieved, wiping his brow with cloth from his attire and spitting blood onto the ground. "Well done!" he calls to his companions. "I am gladdened every more in every fight to know that I am in the company of mages. Not something I'm used to, but it is a most welcome change!"
Upon recognizing the guards, Ambrose rushes over to the corpses and kneels beside them, obviously shaken and distraught. "I...I know these soldiers. They were my brothers and sisters, Lions of Brindol as I am. Shara and Kesdrin...good citizens both, protectors of Brindol and Lord Jarmaath. These others were also city guards...I do not know their names, but I do know their faces. I wish I had known them more, so to better honor them in this moment...I have forgotten some, what it is like to lose a comrade. I have spent so much of my recent years riding alone...time has not made such a feeling easier. A shame that they met their ends to such brutes...they deserved better. By the looks of it, though, they were on some sort of task for Brindol, so to die in the service of the city...well, that is an honorable death. It is strange though...I did not know Shara nor Kesdrin to be errants, as I am. They were more stationary. Perhaps Lord Jarmaath has the rest of my ilk out already...We should check those lockboxes and see what they were up to. I know we are pressed for time, and that I am perhaps the first to remind us of that, but I would like to take the time to bury these soldiers. I wish I could return them to Brindol to give them proper burials in the grounds of their fathers, but I know such a thing isn't possible at this time. I will take their effects back to their families...I hope that will be enough."
HP: 14/57
I lay a comradely hand on Leonar's shoulder, "They have been avenged, cold comfort though that is, and their errand may still be run."
I take a look at the chests, "Perhaps I can melt through the locks?"
A bruised, battered, and bloodied Helaku dispels his invisibility and emerges from the trees. "Ow, ow, ow. That hurt. I don't know how you do it Ambrose." He joins the knight by the fallen men and women. "I'm sorry Ambrose. I have lost companions before and it is never easy. Perhaps we can continue with the task they were assigned. I will certainly help you bury their bodies."
Leonar stood silently. He never knew the right word to say, so he chose to remain quiet and pay his respects that way.
Elven sensitivities aside, I am a creature of the woods and rarely interested in the company of other people, even if traveling with these friends. Silently I move to stand behind Ambrose, laying a hand on his shoulder to convey my sympathy, while my mind races back to that day I came home to receive news that my parents had been slaughtered.
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In solemn silence you set to the task of burying the bodies of the soldiers. Ambrose speaks a few words on behalf of the dead. For Shara, and Kesdrin, and for the others. You have kept their personal effects, to return to their loved ones in Brindol.
You were able to save the contents of the chest, though outwardly the chests look pretty singed. You were able to find the keys among Shara's equipment. Each of the three chests is filled with one thousand gold gilders and assorted gemstones that you guess would double the value of the gold, for a total value of six thousand gold pieces.
Inside Shara's satchel you also find a letter. The letter is addressed to Captain Evarth Helmbreaker of the Shining Axe Company, Hammerfist Holds. The Hammerfist Holds are dwarven communities many days across the southern hills, directly opposite to your current direction of travel. It is a mercenary contract signed by Lord Jarmaath of Brindol, which hires the Shining Axes for the defense of the city; it refers to the 6,000 gold piece payment for the company's services. According to the letter, the Shining Axes - a company of axe-wielding dwarves almost two hundred strong - are to set out for Brindol at once on receipt of Lord Jarmaath's payment.
===========
Columns of troops trudge past the ruins of Vraath Keep. Orange-skinned hobgoblin soldiers gaze up a the ramparts, note the powerfully built form of their leader as he flies over the wall to land in the courtyard.
Azarr Kul lands with a thud, and looks about at the stronghold. Dark eyes peer out of a dark dragonscale helmet, matching a suit of heavy plate armor. He sets down a heavy shield, similarly formed from the head of a red dragon. An enormous, heavy blue-tinged pick rests beside him.
"Report." His voice is low, gravelly, more akin to a prowling cat than like his brethren.
A hesitant hobgoblin captain edges forward. "Wyrmlord Koth has been captured. His guard and his champion have been slain. Goblin riders reported seeing a band of humans and elves travelling through the forest, likely the same group that destroyed the bridge."
At that, Azarr Kul's fist flies out, grabbing the captain by the throat. The hobgoblin's eyes bulge as his breath is squeezed from him. "The bridge! That cost us days going around the gorge." The officer in his grip now limp and lifeless, Kul casts the body aside and turns to another warband leader. "I want these interlopers found. Send Mulshrond and his band, I will not accept any more delays. We march on Drellin's Ferry!" The hobgoblin is quick to turn and rush off, bellowing orders, keen to keep his life intact.
Azarr Kul grasps the amulet at his chest, the coldly wrought form of Tiamat the Destroyer. The Tearer-Down and the Builder of Worlds. Her worlds. He smiles.
"Tose dwarves could be very helpful against the horde. Can anyone think of a way to get this gold to them? I'd hate to double back and not help these civilians get to safety."
"This unfinished task pulls us in two directions...we need to clear those roadblocks and confront this 'Wyrmlord' in the north to allow for supplies and reinforcements to come to the Vale...yet we need to get this gold to the south to secure dwarven reinforcement. A force of two hundred combat-trained dwarven mercenaries would be a boon in battle, but opening supply routes is perhaps more important in the long run. The north seems the more dangerous path, so we should be the ones to go that way. Hopefully in the next town we can find a rider or some guardsmen to deliver this gold south."
"If there is a next town."
I peer into the distance, watching distant clouds form.
"We have already begun our journey north. We would be quicker to finish this now rather than doubling back. Perhaps we can find some messengers, or it will be in our hands?"
I scratch my neck and squint against the sun, "A war," I look down at my gear and my self, "Not much of a soldier."
"I fear my own newfound ability to fly will only allow me a little over a half hour per day. Leonar, could you transform into a bird large enough to carry Shaylar's haversack? From what I know of its magic, it may have just enough room for the gold. It would be risky to send only one of us, but to pursue both avenues, it might be our best option."
"I can transform into a medium avian creature for 5 hours a day. I might be able to carry the sack, but I'm not sure how long it would take me to get there and back."
"Five hours a day...hmmmmm" muses Helaku. "Much longer than I can, but not like you could fly all day and night. A quick man could walk four miles in an hour or hustle to make it eight. An eagle is perhaps twice as fast? Eight in an hour, possibly as many as sixteen? That would get you forty to eighty miles a day and in a straight line with no hills, rivers or woods to slow you. Leonar, you seem to know the geography of these parts better than I. Do you think you could judge how far it is to the dwarves from here?"
Kno. Geography
Kno. Nature
Ambrose is solemn in burying the dead, much like he was when burying the townsfolk in Drellin's Ferry. When the bodies are in the ground, he wipes the sweat and dirt from his brow and speaks a few words. "Shara, Kesdrin, and the gathered guardsmen here were good and honorable folk. They served their city and served their lord and defended their lands and their people. No one could have asked more of them, and both their lives and their deaths will be remembered, if by no one else than by me. It is a shame that only the greatest fighters with the shiniest swords become heroes for legends, and not all of the people who put their lives in danger and sacrifice themselves for the greater good. I'll write own story. The tale of the Mercenary Gold. And it will honor those who gave their lives in service of the Vale. Rest easy, brothers and sisters, you deaths were not in vain...we will finish your quest and avenge your deaths and carry on your legacies in defense of Elsir Vale. May Pelor's light guide you to the heavens, and may Heironeous greet you with open arms."
Walking up behind Aleste, Ambrose claps a hand on his shoulder. "Soldiers don't win wars. People do. Aye, I've done weapon drills and trained horses, burdened myself with armor until I ignore its weight, and locked shields in a wall, and mastered blade and lance for hours a day, but I can't mix up an explosive that will wipe out five goblins before they can blink, nor melt a giant from thirty paces. Neither can any other soldier or Lion of Brindol. I'd say we could use a few hundred more soldiers like you, my friend."
"It is important that this gold reach the dwarves, but I cannot speak one way or the other if sending Leonar is the best plan...we could use your powers and insights in the battles ahead in the marshes, to be sure, but you are also more capable of getting the gold to the dwarves than any rider we may come across. Likely faster, too. If you think you are up to the task, I would thank you on behalf of Brindol."
I flash a grateful grin to Ambrose for his encouraging words.
"Nah, we'd blow up our own barracks in a week."
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Consulting your maps, you see that from where you are it's maybe forty-five miles to the southern dwarf holds where the money was destined. Conversely, Rhest is only perhaps fifty miles or so away, but by the roads it's perhaps closer to one hundred miles.
The next community on the road to Rhest is the small town of Rhest. It might be that you can find someone who can take the dwarf money on to south. Alternatively, if you can hold your avian form for five hours you could easily fly sixty miles or so, so you could easily fly far enough to reach the dwarfholds, though since you haven't been there before it might take a bit longer to find the right place and also to hand the money over. Winging your way back to Rhest might take a couple days of flying to get back to the group.
Speaking of flying, one thing to consider is that 6,000gp worth of coins weighs quite a bit. The payment weighs about ninety pounds. Would you be able to carry that? Or, do you all have a bag of holding or some such at your disposal?
Shaylar has a handy haversack which has just enough room, should he approve its use for the mission :)
Sounds good, looking forward to the next part of the adventure.
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Leonar
The following day, you part ways, putting your plan into motion. Leonar loads the money and gemstones into Shaylar's magical haversack, hefting it onto his back. With an act of will, he changes form, melding into an eagle once again. With a cock of his head and a clack of his beak, the druid takes flight, winging south.
The journey south passes quickly. You revel in the rush of air, of the landscape sliding past. You pass over towns and villages that you travelled through before, as yet untouched by war. Then, long, rolling plains. Wild grasslands and pasturelands. A few times during the day you are forced to land to rest, but you are making good progress.
At last, as the sun begins to approach the horizon the ground begins to rise in elevation, folding into ragged hills. Time to start looking for the dwarfholds. You cast about, this way and that, when with your keen avian eyes you notice a shadow pass in front of the sun. A large shadow. A red scaled reptilian thing with leathery wings that you at first think is a red dragon. No, not a dragon; a drake, on the hunt. And its hunting must not be going well, because it's chosen to come after you!
Initiative
19 - flame drake
------
Perception
Stealth
init
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Blockade
Meanwhile, the rest of you continue the journey north. Leonar hasn't been riding with you as long as the rest of you have been travelling together, but you hope the druid is able to complete his mission and catch up with you.
After passing the town of Witchcross, the road begins to skirt the Witchwood until the road continues on north towards the ruins of Rhest. The terrain breaks up as you are also skirting the foothills of the Giantshield Mountains. You bring Leonar's horse along with you. In fact, being able to pack some of your gear on the spare horse you find you are able to travel more lightly and push the horses a bit more. The road is quiet; in fact, you haven't come across any travellers since Witchcross, two days ago.
A few miles further on, you can see the reason why. Up ahead you spy a crude, ten-foot-high palisade of logs that has been erected across the road, extending forty feet to either side and completely blocking all passage. A squat, twenty-foot-tall watchtower looms in the middle of the palisade. You catch a glimpse of movement up in the tower, and spy a hobgoblin archer leaning against a post, chin on his chest.
I speak softly, "Hang back, I'll check this out."
Then I knock back two extracts: invisibility and fly.
That done, I take to the air and circle through the skies above and around the pallisade, keeping 40-50ft away at all times.
After reconnoitering, I return to the group and share what I have learned.
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Hovering over the palisade, you see that the squat watchtower is covered over. One hobgoblin archer stands up top, looking fairly alert but bored. On either side is an ogre, who should be helping to keep watch but both are asleep in the sun, and you can hear their rumbling snores. You figure there must be more hobgoblins inside, but it's hard to tell - you think you can hear more snores from inside. You think this lot must have been here for a while, because they look bored.
Initiative
Leonar spend the first round continuing to fly but banking in the opposite direction of the drake. The Druid also casts Resist Energy Fire on himself as he notes the fiery creature approaching.
I return to the group, "A bored hobgoblin and two sleeping ogres: more creatures sleeping inside as well, I think."
"If we can get rid of the guard without being noticed, we should be fine."
"I'm not sure how I feel about butchering enemies as they sleep... even if they are hobgoblins and ogres. I'm sure they'd do the same to us, but I guess that is what makes us us and them them."
"I don't know. I doubt they're redeemable and I'm inclined to see this as war. I do have spells that might suffice to take them out of battle in other ways. I could charm them or capitalize on their boredom to leave them doing nothing for a spell, but sooner or later we'll have to deal with them and I don't think we're in any position to take prisoners."
"Tie them up then, but we'll have to escort them to a secure location and forget about our real target for a while."
"What about the guard?"
"Are you sure about this Ambrose? I think we'd be better off striking quickly and trying to take them all out...at least the one who is watching. I can get some or all of us into position using invisibility."
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Leonar
Round 1
The drake is fast and gifted with quick reactions, but Leonar is faster still. The eagle-shaped druid banks to the left, pulling in his wings in order to put some more distance between himself and the drake. He also takes advantage to cast some protective magic on himself. The drake, its curiosity piqued, senses a challenge and draws closer. You keep expecting some sort of flaming breath but none comes; the drake seems content with chasing you down on the wing.
With a sudden surge of speed, the drake closes the gap, drawing worryingly close. The flame drake looms over you, only 80 feet distant.
Initiative
19 - Leonar
19 - drake
Leonar casts Sleet Storm, looking back over his shoulder uncomfortably, hoping that the drake would avoid the cold at all costs. When he sees the storm come into being, he immediately heads straight for the closest copse of trees or some other area he might be able to duck behind and take cover.
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Leonar
Round 2
Casting an eagle eye back to look at the drake, Leonar conjures a sleet storm, placing it directly in front of the drake. The drake banks and barrels away in order to avoid the small puff of snowy air. The druid meanwhile takes advantage of the distraction to dive down to the ground. Diving down to ground level, he tries to shelter in a tree and remain unseen by the drake.
The drake circles and returns, dropping in altitude. All the while it is casting about, dragging in huge lungfuls of air as it passes overhead. It seems to be trying to sniff you out.
------
Leonar stealth
perception
[/spoiler]
Since Leonar couldn't lose the dumb drake, he prepares for battle and softly calls out the words to his Call Lightning spell, preparing to begin peppering the drake next round.
Ambrose looks around to his companions and nods reluctantly. "I suppose it must be done, as much as I don't like it. Time is not on our side, and whatever makes these missions quicker will only help Brindol and the Vale in the end." He slowly slides his bastard sword from its scabbard. "Let us go."
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Leonar
Round 3
Watching the drake circling closer and closer, Leonar begins intoning a combat spell. A brisk wind starts to build, and the late afternoon clouds begin piling atop one another. A storm is brewing.
The drake draws nearer, and hovers. You could swear the reptilian face grins as it sniffs you out. With a great intake of breath, it breathes a great gout of flame at the tree. When the flame hits it explodes like a fireball, sending the tree and everything around it up in flame.
As the dragon banks away for another turn, it suddenly swings its head as something else grabs its attention. Following its gaze you spy a trio of dwarves in scale armor, armed with crossbows, spears, and axes. You don't know where they came from, and who could say how they were able to avoid your keen eye? They raise their crossbows in a well-coordinated maneuver, targeting the drake. The dragon-kin twists and turns trying to avoid the bolts, but one of them bites deep. The drake growls in consternation as it tries to back out of range.
Initiative
19 - Leonar
19 - flame drake
9 - dwarves
------
dwarf 1
damage
dwarf 2
dwarf 3
stealth
perception
init
Leonar perception
confirm crit
Leonar calls down a bolt of lightning to strike at the drake.
Damage
DC 19 reflex for half
"Helaku, Aleste, I will follow your lead for this fight. Make what preparations you wish and tell me how I can assist you."
"I've still got time on my enchantments: I could pour acid from on high. We'd need a way for everyone else to strike them with speed and power to ensure they cannot raise the alarm."