”Yes!” Iorskan thumped his tail happily. ”Remember though! Kobolds are smart. They do not fight dumb humans face to face. Kobolds ambush, they set traps, and they fight at night when humans can’t see. The stag lord and all of his army will be our feast!”
"A show've force we have got," Bydon notes, looking around at your small army. He turns to the others gathered around, "Y'all heard the man! Pack up an' get the others, we're going for a stroll."
Viceroy Dragonfly doesn't speak common and has thus been somewhat quiet throughout the exchange. He'll ask Ozzy to explain what's going on.
Beds have been rolled under the dark tapestry, though many don't feel like sleep. Their murmurs and whispers to each other, individually quiet, keeps the rest awake as well.
Nothing disturbs you in the night.
In the night, even Bright Awn would be hard pressed to see the kobolds if they didn't want to be seen, and Team Mixed Pants stood no chance.
Chief Sootscale and Viceroy Dragonfly hold diplomatic meetings via a chain of interpreters. This has comedy potential, but play by post is too slow for that kind of thing, so we won't roleplay it out.
A day, and a night, and another day and another night and another day, and the fighting force has made it through the Kanelands, you can see the walls of the Trading Post in the distance.
They can also see you.
A guard on horseback posted sees your massive motley band coming from far enough away that faces can't be distinguished, and so you are met with a line of ten cavalry putting themselves between you and the civilians in the trading post. They surge forward in coordinated cacophony, braced lances promising an cleanly executed messy execution. But realizing who you are when they've closed the distance, the captain barks an monosyllabic order and they pull back on their reigns, horses coming to sudden stops.
Garess nudges her noble steed, which walks out in front of the others. She sits upright in her saddle, making first impressions, and tries to slow her breathing after the sudden sounded alarm and hectic gallop. She hasn't cut her hair in too long, so she balances her lance on her leg and brushes it out of her eyes.
"Bright Awn, Dharak. Townsomething. And . . . everyone else. What's the occasion?" Despite her best efforts, she's flustered and comes off as less unflappably authoritative then she'd prefer.
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Chief Sootscale and Viceroy Dragonfly hold diplomatic meetings via a chain of interpreters. This has comedy potential, but play by post is too slow for that kind of thing, so we won't roleplay it out.
Abaos does his best to act as an impartial intermediary during the meetings, and when a compromise is reached, he celebrates by throwing a massive hurrah, followed by arm wrestling and kite-flying ().
"Bright Awn, Dharak. Townsomething. And . . . everyone else. What's the occasion?" Despite her best efforts, she's flustered and comes off as less unflappably authoritative then she'd prefer.
Abaos walks to the front of the line as the cavalry line up, and motions for the rest of the party to do the same. When she finishes speaking, he speaks. "Hello, Captain Garess," he says, holding out his hand in greeting, "I heard you were looking to help end the banditry problem in these woods. Well," and suddenly his arms stretch upwards, motioning out to all the assembled host, as if gathering them "here we are. Everyone who's set on destroying the Stag Lord. Let's talk."
Ozzy translates for the mites, then leads them in a cheer to underscore the point, during which Mr. Blinky roars, and Mr. Winky lets out an equally triumphant-sounding screech.
Bright Awn smiles a huge smile, and bows long and low.
"Captain Garess. As promised - the... Horde."
Immediate Action: Second sight to add +1 to Abaos' roll.
Standard Action: Aid Another: Diplomacy
Guthruc slams his club on the ground. "Guthuc crush deer king!"
Iorskan wasn’t paying attention, but at that moment he did spew fire for the purpose of wowing his Kobold army.
It was quite impressive, or so he would say if anyone asked him.
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().
That sounds like the sort of opportunity that both Zornesk and Nakpik would jump at, so they play rock paper scissors over who gets the first turn.
It isn't all fun and games, though, some of the kobolds are rather put out at having to work with the mites. The language barrier keeps arguments from getting heated, but you get the distinct impression there weren't so many humans about uninvested in the conflict things could easily come to blows.
For his part, Dragonfly patiently repeats his argument as many times as it needs to be said. Grabbles was the warmonger, and Grabbles is dead. The mites have no interest in pointless fighting that never ends, and would rather join their new allies in making something bigger than themselves.
The Viceroy has no real ambitions beyond ruling the group of mites he thinks are his rightful subjects, is following the PCs mostly out of fear, and hates kobolds passionately but knows he can't beat them so he's playing nice.
He is, however, sincere in wanting to be at the forefront of a massive force killing humans from the back of his dragonfly. It makes his twisted dark fey heart happy to see beautiful humans mutilated and maimed until they look no better than him and his fellow mites.
Chief Sootscale is also happy to see an end to the endless war, so he tries to keep the peace and discourage his warriors from losing their cool.
Abaos walks to the front of the line as the cavalry line up, and motions for the rest of the party to do the same. When she finishes speaking, he speaks. "Hello, Captain Garess," he says, holding out his hand in greeting, "I heard you were looking to help end the banditry problem in these woods. Well," and suddenly his arms stretch upwards, motioning out to all the assembled host, as if gathering them "here we are. Everyone who's set on destroying the Stag Lord. Let's talk."
The captain is impressed. That's a lot of insurgents.
"The Stag Lord sure knows how to pick his enemies." She nudges her horse a little forward and stares at Abaos's face. "Purple eyes. You're Abaos, then? The Levet-" she's interupted by Iorskan, who spits a gout of flame into the air.
She was told by Swordlord Eleder that Iorskan was a 'a midgity little dragon, but smaller. That can't fly or breath fire.' But the only gold dragon she can see can clearly breathe fire, and also isn't particularly midgity. She's on her horse, but she suspects that if she was on the ground he'd come nearly to her waist, and they'd weigh close to the same. But that's sort of midgity when it comes to dragons . . .
"Is that Iorskan?" she asks Abaos, "I was told he couldn't breathe fire."
There are others whose descriptions she recognizes. A girl with no shadow, pale skin and grey hair. That's Ozzara, the caster. A quadrapedal beast made of darkness with immense, bulging eyes. That'd be her shadow. There's . . . another similar creature flying overhead, maybe it's . . . another shadow? Or a part of the cursed child's shadow? She doesn't know. There's Guthruc. Seeing him, it's hard to believe she mistook Dharak for him at first. Green, muscled, wrapped in dead animals and carrying a log, he looks like a feral monster. But then, when it comes to dangerous monsters, the wyvern takes the cake. She hopes these people know what they're doing, can control the creatures.
"Right. Let's talk."
I probably seem too adversarial, sitting on a warhorse and carrying a lance. We're all friends here.
She swings her legs over her saddle and jumps off her mount. On the ground, she looks a lot shorter (which is why she prefers to converse from the back of a destrier, she belatedly remembers). "Walk and talk?" she asks.
"Before anything else, answer, are you withdrawing to this last line of defense and if so how much time do I have to prepare."
Since you aren't carrying your injured and dying with you, and have time enough to talk, she suspects it's the latter, but just in case she should be frantically throwing together last minute defenses she'd like to know right now.
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It isn't all fun and games, though, some of the kobolds are rather put out at having to work with the mites. The language barrier keeps arguments from getting heated, but you get the distinct impression there weren't so many humans about uninvested in the conflict things could easily come to blows.
Abaos' default assumption is that everyone speaks their mind, so he instead continues the celebration of the end of hostilities between kobolds and mites.
"Is that Iorskan?" she asks Abaos, "I was told he couldn't breathe fire."
Abaos laughs a little as Garess starts when the fire spews out. "Oh yeah, that's Iorskan all right!" He does a quick shrug, and continues. "He's getting bigger every day, and quite frankly, the way he eats, it's a surprise he's not the size of that () taztlywyrm over there. And yes, he breathes fire, but only in spurts. Glad he's on our side."
He quickly looks embarrassed, realizing he's been caught up in his bragging over his friend. "Anyways," he says, putting on a more serious face, "as far as we can tell, we're under no imminent threat from the Stag Lord. No, but he knows we're here, and I'm expecting retaliation of some sort over the next couple of days. We want to be at the forefront of it, hence why we've come." He stops and runs a hand through his hair, using the gesture to hide his appraisal of her.
"Besides, Awn told me you want to help, and we could use you, certainly."
He continues walking with her.
Awn watches as the two warleaders' cloaks flap in the wind.
It was fated and comes to be that Captain Garess does not realize Abaos's appraisal while the ifrit runs a hand through his hair.
The captain, typically quite observant, is eying the small army the party brought with them instead of paying one hundred percent attention to the man she's talking with. "If this is the size of the resistance, and you still need out help, I've newfound respect for the self-styled Stag Lord . . . what needs to be done?"
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Abaos nods. "You'll have more respect for him once you hear what I have to say," he says.
"We know this of the stag Lord. He's a big guy, wielding an enormous bow with a chain draw. He drinks most of the time, and lays around yelling and beating others, but he's such a force most of his men stick around to see him. They think h's a god, almost, and his status is legendary."
"He has a force of forty men, and five lieutenants. A manticore, and an ogre, of which are used for muscle. An evil druid/necromancer. Kressel, a long- time bandit queen who's pledged her loyalty and skills to him. And Akiros Ismort, who manages the day-to-day operations of the camp."
"He utilizes a stone fortress as his base, which consists of two levels- above and below ground. Above is where the stag Lord and his men stay- below is where the necromancer lies. Around one side of the fortress are zombies, which serve as a natural barrier to invasion from that direction."
"We've bandied about a lot of ideas. What we need most right now is to get a cohesive plan together, and a map of the place, so we can see what we're up against. Tactics, etc."
"Captain, you have 10 well- trained cavalry units at your command. Can you, and will you, journey with us to the fortress? From there, I'd like to see several things, all of which I'd be willing to discuss."
"Captain, you have 10 well- trained cavalry units at your command. Can you, and will you, journey with us to the fortress? From there, I'd like to see several things, all of which I'd be willing to discuss."
"I'd rather it to sitting here twiddling my thumbs. And it is what we're being paid to do." She looks off into the middle distance, then turns back to Abaos. "Do you know if they employ a wizard? There's an old friend of mine, Falgrim Sneeg, who I'd dearly like to murder. I heard that he'd teamed with the bandits in the area . . ."
Garess is confident in her, her soldiers', and her newfound and impressively numerous allies' prowess. Confidently, she asserts,"Without knowing anything but what I've been told, I'm not terribly worried. They're outnumbered, I doubt they'd win a pitched battle. And if their position is too strong to take, I've all the time in the world to lay siege. We'll starve them out, if nothing else."
Hearing that there might be a siege, Iorskan looked up and stared at the captain. He wanted to eat the stag lord! It wouldn’t do if there had to be a siege. But all he knew about sieges was that he heard they were boring. So he waddled up and said
”I am Lord Iorskan! King of the Eternal Flame!” It *sounded* really important, and that made him happy. ”Let us draw them out. They don’t know about my kobolds, or the mites. So they see a smaller army, come out to fight it, and the larger one jumps out!”
He slapped his tail happily, proud of his tactical genius.
All of this talk of war, pitched battles, sieges and lords, companies and wizards is like so much chaff in the wind to Awn. The woodborn continues to shadow the warleaders, content to shift and weave the pattern. For whatever outcome seemed...useful.
Guthruc enjoys the talk of war, and sees himself as the combat expert here. He walks up to Abaos and the captain, nearly pushing them aside. "Guthruc War King." He says this as though Abaos and the captain are out of their league, and should let Guthruc handle battles and war. "Guthruc and ally charge castle, kill all no join warband. If ally no keep up with Guthruc, cause retreat: Guthruc and dragons burn castle. Ally kill as deer king and men try escape fire."
It wouldn’t do if there had to be a siege. But all he knew about sieges was that he heard they were boring.
Captain Garess looks at Guthruc distastefully (he's big and smelly and loud and doesn't use pronouns) but, to her credit, realizes that he has a point. "Burn them out? How much of the structure is flammable?"
We should sneak in at night! Ozzy adds, excitedly. Me 'n' the mites 'n' the kobolds! We can put out their torches so they can't see us, then set the whole place on fire! As she says this, she illustrates the point by casting light on the palm of her hand to make it glow, then closing her fist to block out the light.
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Abaos is surprised when everyone pushes past him and starts chiming in; but, then again, he isn't, really. That's his friends, that's his party.
"As you can see, Captain Garess, we've each had several ideas for this," he chuckles, slightly embarrassed.
"It's a stone monastery, with watchtowers and a wall constructed out of an unknown material, though I'm guessing wood. Burning it would help, but likely wouldn't drive them out anywhere. But, ti would lower their defenses somewhat, and smoke can be deadly."
You should know- the wizard/necromancer/druid teamed with the Stag Lord is Falgrim Sneeg, though you'll have to get in line to stop him. You're not the first to approach me about him."
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Awn frowns, his usually sunny countenance darkening at the import of "plans".
"Fire? Fire is not a weapon. Fire is no-one's friend. Fire is vengeance without sorrow and hunger without satiation. As an ifrit Abaos, you are uniquely placed to tell these that fire will not win wars, though it may end them. These Broken Lands can be reduced to cinders and you will be Lords of Ash and nothing more."
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”Fire is...Fire is vengeance without sorrow! Hunger without satiation! Rawr!” Iorskan was really getting pumped up. Awn’s words spoke to the primal hunger within his heart. He would have to remember that line. It would make him look so powerful, he was sure. Maybe even the Stag Lord would tremble when hearing it.
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Abaos holds up his hands. "Guys, guys, I really don't think fire would even matter here. We're not debating the merits of using fire, we're just discussing options of destruction. It's a stone monastery, according to Norry. Fire won't burn it down anyways, so unless we receive some differing information when we arrive, we won't be using fire, regardless. It's just not a good plan."
[ooc]Can I roll diplomacy for Awn and Iorskan! Just keeping the peace guys, we'll cross the fiery bridge when we get there haha
”I’ll burn bandits then. Not the fortress.” Iorskan said in a tone which he considered sage like. ”We should have Guthruc and his forces challenge the Stag Lord. Then we ambush the enemy when they come out. Cut them off from retreating back to their fortress.”
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Abaos considers Iorskan's words. "Burn the people if you'd like." He shrugs. "Just be careful. I'm not so certain the Stag Lord would be willing to come out and play; as long as he's in the fortress, he has the advantage. Still, we'll have to think of something. For now, let's just focus on getting there, and bandy ideas about."
The assorted forces are glad to be on the move, after a week’s waiting around, they are ready to move. And ready to fight! The kobolds can’t wait to try out their metal weapons, the humans with their glaives and axes are confident they’ll be the side best armed.
Svetlana is happy for your business, but she must admit she’s happy to see the backs of you. (A week is a long time to host sixty-odd ruffians and demihumans.) Oleg, returning from Restov, is dismayed at the mess your fighting force made in his absence.
Happs is grim now that it’s time to fight. He’s not sure how many of the bandits under his teneous command will still be here in a month. They’re a motley and friendless lot, but he feels responsible for them. There’s no one waiting for them at home, no home to wait at, a desperate band with little to lose. Bydon memorizes their names, determined to remember them if no one else does.
Captain Garess had an easier time waiting. Sometimes soldiering is exciting, and sometimes it’s a waiting game, and when it is there’s nothing for it but to play cards and try not to think too hard.
A week without doing anything is enough to drive mites to madness, the Viceroy shows his leadership by organizing bare knuckled bouts to help the mites blow off steam.
And now it’s time to march. Spirits are mixed as the rag tag band sets off across the Kanelands. Days later, excited and nervous, they come to a stop at the ford where the Thorn meets the Shrike.
As the group marches, Ozzy scouts ahead of them. Which is to say, she stays ahead of the group so that Mr. Winky can stay ahead of her, soaring overhead to watch for threats in their path, while the blue of his new garb makes him almost invisible against that of the sky. Mr. Blinky stalks through the underbrush at her side.
At the head of his kobold horde, Iorskan ambled forward happily. He had loyal minions! He could breathe fire! He could almost-sorta fly! Well, he was getting there. The point was, he was happy. And he was hungry. He was growing by the day, in a ‘frog boiling’ sort of way. The kind of growth that wasn’t readily apparent when one saw him every day, and thus sort of crept up on you.
Iorskan grinned, showing all of his very sharp teeth. Humans liked that. And if he was going to be a lord, he was going to have to learn how to make his neighbors feel at ease. The last thing he wanted was a murderous group of adventuring hobos to come slaughter his kobolds and steal his gold because he didn’t learn how to smile.
Thus, with dreams of gold, conquest, and glory, Iorskan marched.
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Abaos doesn't so much march as he does move, skipping along, playfully making fun of Dharak, Townsend, and the tightly- wound Happs. He does this with a slight nervous- energy, of course, and his jokes seem just a tad forced- but he'd never let anyone know. Though, after drawing into an argument with Happs, about something petty, nevertheless, he decides to involve several of the members in moving games of chance- ostensibly, to clear the air, of course.
Rarely does he look over to the kobolds, mites, or Garress; though he does make an effort to see Nakpik, Zornesk, Poro, and Eadoo on the march, chatting in preschool- level kobold ().
Once the scouts report the ten- mile mark, he calls a quick halt to the assortment. "Bright Awn, Ozzy, Guthruc, Iorskan and Sootscale, Happs, Dragonfly, and Garess, with me, please."
He then shuffles everyone into a sort of makeshift strategy room, basically a dirt circle with some logs around it.
He begins drawing in energetic, precise strokes. "Alright ladies and lords, this is it. What we've been planning. Is everyone ready?" He pauses a minute, not really looking up at anyone in particular. "Good."
He begins drawing. "So, the camp is here. Ozzy, I want those siege engines in place here, along with Guthruc, Anura, and Tazty, and whichever people you trust to use those turrets without blowing us all up."
"Lieutenant Garress, you know the plan. From what we've gathered from Tazty, Norry, and some of the others, as soon as we get close enough, that manticore is going to come out. If it thinks you're vulnerable, it'll attack, and that's the plan. You take about half your men and ride out, as if you were going to scout the walls. Make as much noise as you need, but as soon as that manticore comes, you book it. I don't care what happens, you keep coming, to this spot, ok? We'll have the rest of your group, plus everyone I've mentioned previously standing by. Iorskan, Awn, Dragonfly and the mites, plus myself will be nearby."
He furiously taps the respective circles as he talks. "Now, whatever happens, the rest of us need to stay hidden. That manticore isn't going to come if it sees a force large enough to hurt it, and that's the most important part of this plan. We're going to take the Stag Lord's eyes out of the sky, and once we have that, everything else is ours."
He turns to Chief Sootscale. "Have your miners get ready, but don't start digging until we get closer. Once the manticore's down, then we can dig with impunity, but if it sees us digging, then we might be in for some nasty surprises."
He turns to Happs. "We're keeping you with the Chief, in case something unexpected happens. Keep one of Garess' soldiers with you, in case you get attacked, so we know to reinforce you. Otherwise, do not engage, and keep out of sight as best you can."
He turns to the group. "Any questions?"
He was growing by the day, in a ‘frog boiling’ sort of way. The kind of growth that wasn’t readily apparent when one saw him every day, and thus sort of crept up on you.
He's grown a lot in the past month of adventuring. He'll be medium sized soon!
You realize with a start that you've been in the Stolen Lands for more than a month now.
The fifth of May dawns bright and clear, as is statistically most likely.
The Stolen Lands change seasons quickly. The moment that the GM begins rolling on the summer table instead of the spring table, the temperature skyrockets. So it is that with little time to acclimate, you find yourself shedding layers and enjoying the sudden warmth. When you wake up in the morning, there's no frost on the ground.
Against the clear blue sky, Mr. Winky is nearly invisible. He flies far ahead of the marching army, returning with dire portents and ill bodings.
With almost twenty days to prepare for your coming since Auchs alerted them to your presence, the Stag Lord's fortress has been fortified most impressively. They thought they faced only Kressel's wayward crew; the gathered kobolds, fey, and career soldiers will strike them like a bolt from the blue. But Akiros Ismort takes no chances when it comes to the lives of those under his command.
The forest around the bandits' fortress has been clear cut; there'll be no scaling of their fifteen foot palisade by woody means. A ditch, five feet deep and ten feet long, has been dug around the outside of the palisade, except in front of the front gate. Of the trees cut down for this purpose, some were converted into sharp stakes protruding from the pallisade. Others were piled, along with the uprooted undergrowth, long dry grass, and brambles, creating a in most places waist height maze outside the palisade, which is now more of an inner wall. (This'll make approaching the fortress tricky, they've endeavored to create choke points and leave no straight paths) (I'll draw a map shortly, by which I mean tomorrow, and I'll have it posted by some time) (Of course, you guys mean to dig a tunnel, but they don't know that)
These waist height walls do not cover one approach to the keep. This, you infer, is the approach guarded by the mindless undead, threat enough themselves.
Winky decides to investigate the path breaking barriers more closely, and his sensitive olfactory passages are assaulted by the scent of lantern oil. This, combined with the cleared undergrowth most certainly meant as kindling, combined with a trench in retrospect likely meant to stop the fire from reaching their own wooden walls, suggests the idea to Mr. Blinky that the defenders may intend to play with fire.
Going about their business are the bandits of the keep, some of them on their guard, most not. The front door is kept closed by default, opened only when people need to come in or go out.
In light of recent intelligence, Captain Garess is reluctant to bring her horses within bowshot of the keep. She worries that one flaming arrow might be enough to set the forest on fire.
After relaying what Mr. Winky saw (and smelled), Ozzy says to the others, We should make sure those defenses are wasted before we are actually ready to attack. Either we could set fire to them ourselves, or we could drop some illusory forces right outside their walls, or even inside them, to trick them into doing so. Not only can we force them to expend their carefully-laid traps, but we can see what their response to threats looks like from a safe distance, so that we will be prepared for any other surprises they may have planned.
We may even want to send a few illusory forces to "attack" them at random times each day until we're ready. They'll catch on that they're illusions after the first few, but in addition to letting us see their responses, it will make them complacent, so that when we actually attack, they'll think that we're illusions, too.
I'd also like to find a way to get some of those undead inside their walls, so they can soften each other up.
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Abaos ponders this for a minute, before stopping. "It's a good idea, Ozzy," he says. "But we lose our ability to draw out the manticore, then. What do we think about this?"
He points again to the map. "Option A: we send in your friend to water the grounds. If we can drown enough of the brambles by himself without being seen, then we can continue the plan, as normal.
Option B: failing that, we send in the kobolds. We know Poro can hide without being seen; a few of her other scouts can drown the place in enough water to stop any flaming arrows. Afterwards, they'll run, and be the new bait: we'll have to quickly move those ballistae into a position. Garess's horses, plus whomever can move the quickest will run to reinforce their positions. We still see the response to our attacking the walls, and we can hopefully draw out the manticore to attack. Does that sound reasonable?"
Mr. Winky can't carry much water. Ozzy says, hesitantly. What if we send Garess's people as planned, to avoid revealing any of our other forces, but instead of getting dangerously close to the fortifications, they fire a flaming arrow to ignite them from a safe distance? When they turn around to leave, only the manticore will be able to pursue, because the flames will block everyone else's path.
”Can’t we just build a catapult? We should throw stuff at them to make them come out. Like...I don’t know. Rocks. Or trees. Or whatever we have around here to throw. Maybe mites. But if they think that they can’t stay inside then they’ll need to face us. We can dig under them while we throw things at them.”