"Is there a way to close at least part of the distance without them spotting us? I'm afraid sneaking really isn't my forte..."
"I could help you with that," says a very quiet voice from somewhere off to your left.
At the sound of the soft voice, Tybus freezes. He turns slowly in its direction, staying his hand from reaching for the katana at his waist. It had offered help, and though he wasn't the most open and trusting sort -- growing up in Riddleport had weaned that away rather quickly -- he also knew that when someone who could sneak up on you like that didn't put a knife in your back, it's best to hear them out.
He looks for the source of the voice before acting further.
Thinking much the same as Tybus, Lamsfel decides to trust the owner of the voice and shows it by not turning around. "I think we would be interested in hearing your thoughts, friend. Would you prefer to discuss this somewhere other than the middle of the road?"
Tybus sees the speaker, although it takes him a moment because she is... well, quite small. Roughly seven inches tall, plus another couple for her butterfly-like wingspan, she hovers about twenty feet away, her eyes fixed primarily on Lamsfel. "If you'd like, I'd be happy to offer the hospitality of my cemetary," the tiny figure says. "It's not much, but I've managed to keep it undefiled so far, despite everything that's hiding in the castle." Aside from her wings and unusual size, the doll-like apparition looks very much like a Varisian woman, albeit with bright purple hair. A pair of tiny starknives hang from her Varisian-style coin belt.
Tybus' jaw drops for a moment as recognition dawns. Desna be praised, he says softly, before coming to his senses. Aye, we be happy to accept. Shall we follow, and make introductions on the way?
To his companions, he says, This be an azata, a being usually of the realm of Elysium. I think we've found a potential friend.
The azata smiles, pleased by Tybus' acknowledgement of his deity. "To be precise, I'm a lyrakien," she adds, beckoning. "My name is Spivey." She leads you across the street and to the gates of the cemetery.
The cemetery consists of a low hill containing nearly two dozen graves. A stone crypt sits atop the hill to the east. The entire graveyard is unusually well tended — the grass appears to be weeded and the gravestones are quite clean. The crypt contains only one body, that of Admiral Mercatio Kiameleu, Brinewall’s founder. What appears to be a gravestone set apart from the rest of the graves near the northern edge of the cemetery is actuallly, according to Spivey, a small shrine to Desna that consists of a marble statue of the deity holding aloft a small copper bowl. As long as the bowl is left in place, any water poured into it automatically becomes holy water. The bowl can perform this minor miracle once per day. "The rainwater in the bowl should already be blessed, if you need some," she adds.
"I've been here in Brinewall for close to a decade now," the lyrakien explains. "I was summoned to serve a sorceress as her familiar many years ago, but she died - eaten by a big, hungry plant. With her gone, I was at a loss: stuck on this plane, but with no real purpose here. I eventually found Brinewall, and the temple to Desna over there, and decided that I should try to stay and take care of it. But before I got very far into that project, I started attracting the wrong kind of attention from the castle's residents. I'm not the only outsider here, you see, although I don't know exactly what the castle's master is. I know he's not the tengu he pretends to be, though, that I am certain of.
"Once I realized I wouldn't be able to defend the temple, I moved here to the cemetery instead. I'm good at hiding, so the dire corbies in the castle think I'm a ghost, I think. Regardless, they don't come here anymore, and I keep the graves tended the way they deserve.
"But now you're here. I followed you last night after you left the castle - I know about your caravan and your sick friend. I know you think there's something to help her in the castle, and you're going back today to try to do something about the things inside. Well, I can scout it for you, I think, and if you need to retreat, I can heal you some as well. You are Desna's folk, mostly, and doing Desna's work for certain. That makes me your friend."
Callomeleth's mood noticeably improves after Spivey reveals herself to everyone, and listens to her as she explains the way things have been at Brinestump for the last decade. "I may not praise Lady Luck as loudly as I do the Rose, but the two have been friends for longer than any of us have been alive, and I'd be pleased to call you friend as well, Spivey. Whatever intelligence you can discover for us, we would gladly use to rid Brinestump of its current occupants. And if there was anything we could do for you in addition to that, I would be glad to help with that as well, if it were in my power."
Lamsfel turns at Tybus' exclamation, curious what an azata looks like. Surprised at what he sees, he goes down to one knee. Bowing, he says, "My lady, I have not seen anything like you before. Desna's blessings abound."
Gan bows formally in acknowledgement.
Greetings, and thank you for your assistance. We are two who are one at present, Gan Liang and Wòkè Qīng. As for scouting--are you aware of another way past those guards? How many of these wretched creatures call this place home?
Tristan smiles for the first time in a while. "I consider myself blessed to meet you, Spivey. You have brought us hope in a dire moment. That is the Lady's work if I ever saw it. Hopefully we can do something to reciprocate. Whatever lurks in that castle, we will face it for your sake and for that of our friend."
Me name's Tybus, and thanks for offering your help. Is the temple in the castle? Ameiko is our first priority, but I'd like to try to drive out whatever's there.
Like the others, his mood has lifted considerably. Any idea what's defending the castle now?
"The temple is in the village ruins, just over there," Spivey replies, "but there might be one in the castle as well, I suppose." She shakes her head in response to Tybus' other question. "I don't, not yet, but I will go and look. Wait here!" With a sudden flap of her wings, the lyrakien lifts into the air, soaring off toward Brinewall Castle.
She is gone for about five minutes. When she returns, her expression is pinched and her brow furrowed. "How disgusting. I've never seen anything like them. There are seven of them; they're humanoids, but they look like lizards, and they smell absolutely horrible. One of them looks a lot bigger than the others, too. They're all on the walls, keeping watch. I've never seen them in the castle before, and I don't think they came through the village last night - I wasn't gone that long. They must have come up from the castle's dungeons." Spivey shakes her head, then adds, "Oh! Before I forget! That ship, down by the dock? They came in a about two weeks ago. They killed the sea drake that's been living in the bay, and thank Desna for that, but most of them died too. One survived, though, and she went into the castle. I haven't seen her come out. I prayed to Desna last night, and She told me she's still alive in there. Maybe you can rescue her?"
Shaking his head, "I'm little help in determining what creatures we face. I just fight them."
Grinning, "Tybus, a sea-faring lass requiring rescue awaits. What are we waiting for?"
Tybus grins widely at Lamsfel. Aye. The only thing we need now is a plan. We could shoot arrows from below and hopefully soften them up, or charge in and take them on directly.
I did prepare me a spell that will conjure an illusion -- pretty much anything I'd like -- but it won't make any noise. It could be a potential distraction, sort of like with the Licktoads.
Arrows would be wise, Gan says in his dual-presence resonating voice. Those creatures are troglodytes--vile, and yes, Spivey, their stink is quite potent. We should keep our distance if at all possible.
Sounds good. I could make an illusion of a cloud or bank of fog rolling in from the bay. If the troglodytes are fooled, they won't be able to see through it. But so long as ye are aware it's an illusion, it won't block your sight. Only thing is, I can't shoot me bow and keep the spell up at the same time. But we could be covered from their attacks for a while.
Anything to gain the upper hand is worth an attempt.
Lamsfel frowns at having to keep his distance, but acknowledges the wisdom of the plan.
"Spivey, did you notice if they carried weapons? Or do they appear to fight with tooth and claw?"
"Most of them had clubs and javelins," Spivey answers, "but the big one had a morningstar made of cold iron with some kind of enchantment on it. I didn't want to stay in one place long enough to figure out what kind, but the aura was quite visible."
"Yes, I suppose a child of the First World would want to give a trog with a weapon forged of cold iron a wide berth. Thank you, Spivey, you've been a gift from the gods themselves. Maybe we should take a side trek to the longboat? I'm not sure if the raider that survived is friend or foe, but what we discover on that boat might give us a hint to where he allegiances lie."
Looking at the edifice in the distance, Lamsfel muses aloud, "Is there another realistic way to approach the castle?"
"Good question," Callomeleth remarks. "A lot of castles have some sort of secret escape route for the nobles that live there. The trogs might not have found that. Any sign of something like that, Spivey?"
"Nothing I've ever seen," Spivey replies, shaking her head. "But I stay away from the castle - there's probably a lot of secrets there I don't know about."
Sighing, "Our best bet for ranged attacks is to get them out of the castle. That will require someone to be in the scrum with them. Or do you have another idea for drawing them out?"
Best way to draw them out is to use the range of our bows. If all they've got are javelins, they'll have a hard time matching our range, plus they should run out faster.
"Were it me, I would not come out. I would wait for you. Maybe they are not that smart."
"[b]Flaming arrows would drive them out, were there anything to burn. And even if there were, I wouldn't want to use them here. We need to explore that castle and find...well, whatever is ailing Ameiko.[/ooc]"
Lads, I think we should head straight away to the castle. We've a long day ahead of us. Spivey, ye're welcome to hang back and stay outta sight. Hopefully, we'll take care o' these stinky lizards quickly.
Tybus takes out his bow and nocks an arrow as he moves toward the castle, staying close to the ruined buildings and making his best effort to get close without letting the defenders see.
Nodding, the elf readies his bow and follows his friend.
Tristan readies his bow and follows too.
As Tristan starts finding all of the twigs and dry leaves on his way to the castle, Callomeleth shakes his head. So much for stealth, he decides, and ends up making himself as big a target for the inevitable javelin volley as the Varisian.
You're still about 140 feet from the castle when the largest of the troglodytes on the walls spots Callemeleth making his way toward the walls. He gives a guttural shout, and the lizard-like warriors ready their javelins.
So much for catching them unawares. Let's use what we've got! Tybus dashes forward and draws back his bow, using his arcane training to infuse the arrow with added striking power.
Lamsfel calmly draws back and aims at the largest of the trogs.
Tristan tries to pick off one of the trogs.
,
The elf gives a mocking salute to the troglodyte captain, and aims his sights at the muscled beast. He breathes in, sights his quarry, and releases his hold on both his arrow and breath in the same moment.
Shoot the big ugly one!
Aaaaaaaand probably just hits air.
Only Tybus' arrow finds its mark, although Callomeleth and Tristan both see the points of their shafts skid off the resilient scales of the troglodytes on the walls. Tybus' arrow bites deep, though, nearly knocking his target off the wall.
With a shout, the troglodytes begin hurling their javelins at their attackers. The range is not friendly to their weapons, though, sending several into the dirt short of their targets.
"Damn their hides," Callomeleth says as he pulls a second shaft. "Arcing my shot might give more power." He fires into the air again, this time well above the trog leader, hoping that the force from falling will penetrate the creature's thick skin.
Yeah, that's just all flavor text. Attacking again!
Wow, really, dicebot? Why you hate me so?
Tybus grits his teeth as he sends another arrow through the air.
Frowning, Lamsfel wordlessly draws back again, this time aiming at a wounded trig or a lesser trog if none remain that were wounded.
With a yelp of pain, Tristan again draws his bow and sends a volley of arrows at the trogs, aiming at a wounded or lesser trog if one is to be found.
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