|
WP rushes over to Ushyle tries to help the larger fighter up. Seeing the he's not in danger right this moment, "nice catch of that club, next time duck." he teases as he pats the half orc on the back.
"the giant was calling for more. I'm going to scout the area and make sure we aren't caught in another trap."
"With a good deal of help," the woman replies to the half-orc. "And really you should be thanking Vael."
She fusses over his headwound for several long moments, concern plain on her face. "You must be more careful, Ushyle," she scolds gently, "and we must find you a helmet or something." She chews on her lip thoughtfully. "Maybe I can augment your armor. I shall have to try."
Vael focuses on the job of healing Ushyle further, pulling out a wand from his backpack. "Hold still, ye durned brave lummox."
"No need to dither here. I imagine this patrol will soon be found by another, so they'll know someone is here," Raen laments. The giant's body has been emanating a prodigious quantity of blood, which is now forming a small pond on the woodland trail. "Maybe Desna will smile on us, and one of them is carrying a key."
***
Some miles onward, the Fort is in sight. "Alright, Tulia," she says quietly in the shade of the trees. "The glamer will only endure a few minutes, so spend it wisely. Remember what I showed you on the map."
Twisted iron in hand, she weaves a spell and the bird disappears from sight.
Tulia chirps, and takes flight to scout out Redlake Fort. She circles the fort and makes as many passes as she can in the time she has. During her trip, she'll pause to land and listen in on any conversations she hears.
Whistle Pig confirms that there are no others in the immediate area. Meanwhile the party takes stock of the loot. Four falchions and 8 javelins seem like poor recompense for the fight, though the orcs do carry gold coins from the Hold.
The giant's bag proves to be more interesting. You find a mud-caked emerald, which you nearly threw out. Raen estimates that it's worth about 1,000 Gp. The giant also (apparently unknowingly) an agile alpenstock.
Tulia comes back with a detailed report:
"The moat is dry and 3 times taller than Vael. There's a fence of tree trunks two Vael's over that. There are narrow windows all over the place. The place seems like a mess. There are orcs and ogres, but they stay apart, and occasionally punch each other. I didn't see any giants. I'd say there are two dozen orcs total and half that in ogres. There are some wolves by the sound of it. It's weird though, there are parts of the fort that seem totally abandoned. Maybe they stay apart for some reason."
"The entrance is guarded, but it's guarded by the same orcs you fought here, and by the same number."
"Oh and I found that other entrance the lady was talking about. It's not underwater because the whole moat is gone.
It's now marked on the handout map.
Are we too late? Have the Giants already left for Trunau? Raen unfurls the map. "Which parts seem abandoned?"
"There are some doors that no one ever uses."
Tulia points these areas out.
"They argue a lot Whistle Pig. It's not gentle teasing like you and the others. It's bad. During my flyby I actually heard one orc say..." Tulia's attempt at sounding orcish is almost too funny to take seriously, “If those stinkin’ ogrekin take any more pot shots at us from that wall, I’m gonna kill ’em all myself. Ain’t fair that they get to stay inside the fort while we live down here like rats.”
"Also, there's a dam that keeps the river from filling the moat back up. It looks pretty big though."
"A good idea, in theory," Vael says to the halfling. "But I kinna see us pullin' that off. Unless ye ken somethin' I dinna?"
"They don't patrol the walls, since the wall is really a palisade. They do wander around from time to time."
Way I see it, I don't think Parley is viable. So let's sneak into the entrance that Tulia found in the moat, and spread through that place like a plague. Then we burn the fort to the ground.
OR we can raise colors and attempt diplomacy, if the plague thing is distasteful. It might get me a dual.
Finally close enough to get into the thick of it, the party brings to bear their boons from the Vault of Thorns.
Getting over the wall: Raen casts _invisibility sphere_, party moves to shadow (cover) of the wall. Vael flies to top, carrying Raen. Invisibility still covers the party. Vael lowers the rope, the others climb up. Invisibility still covers the party. Everybody jumps down the 25 feet simultaneously, making Acro checks to reduce damage. Invisibility still covers the party. Vael or Doxon channels, removing wounds, party moves into secret tunnel. Invisibility still covers the party.
A deep trench resembling a dried scab runs around the perimeter of the fort. Several brightly dyed animal-skin tents flap vigorously in the harsh breeze blowing across the ditch’s dusty floor.
These tents seem to be completely empty, and while you can hear activity in the tents along the southern edge, here on the western side, it's eerily quiet. If you're careful, you could likely eavesdrop on the tents along the southern wall.
After a minute's time you're confident that this area is thoroughly abandoned, and likely a safe place to rest if need be.
(Darkvision 60')
(Darkvision 60')
---> (LLV)
(Darkvision 60')
(Extra +2 if Mountains/Hills)
Ushyle and Hamilton notice a tent that stands out. Animal skeletons and mummified entrails dangle from the posts of this large, brightly dyed tent. Pale blue smoke wafts from the tent’s smoke hole, carrying with it the strong scent of herbs mixed with sweat.
Ushyle stares at the tent a long while, turning battle plans and tactics over in his head, before muttering to Ham, Think anyone'd notice if we just burned the damn thing to the ground...?
"I wonder if those we killed in Trunau once tented over here," Raen comments quietly. Her eyes follow Ushyle's gaze. "We should get a closer look. Whoever -- or whatever -- dwells there wishes to be alone from the others. Quiet now, and stay close."
The party inches closer to the stand alone tent. Regardless of the plan, it'll take getting a little closer.
Just as the party stops moving, deciding without words that it's time to stop and choose a plan, the tent flap ripples in the wind.
From inside comes a scratchy voice speaking in orcish accented Taldane, "Heroes of Trunau, come inside. Come and make words with me... I have seen your arrival, and I know your fate..."
"A diviner," Raen mutters apprehensively, and enters the tent.
|
|
WP follows, "who wishes to speak with the Heros of Trunau, Slayer of Orcs, Gaints and Hags, wielders of: Brinya's Love, Agrimmosh and Gorum's Thorn? Speak quickly or I will add a trinket of your's to my collection." He speaks as menacing as his little frame can manage. it's barely above a whispers. The halfling's face is twisted in rage. He is ready to shed blood or die trying.
Vael puts a reassuring hand on the halfling's shoulder. "What me friend says is that ye've got us at a disadvantage, and that makes us uncomfortable. But ye call us 'Heroes of Trunau', and speak with respect. Speak, and we will listen."
Inside the stifling tent is a venerable looking half-orc woman, "I am Droja, heroes. I have had visions of your past glories, your stand at the gates of Trunau, your discovery of the Hammer under the hill." She mutters to herself a bit, "I see your future too, for I am an oracle. Your destiny lies in the fort’s haunted chapel, should you be brave enough to accept the challenge... I beg you to take me with you, so that I may see your future glories unfold."
Vael isn't sure he trusts her...
Vael gets no hunches about Droja...
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
"Diplomacy?" WP laughs, "There will be no diplomacy. We will clean this place out with iron, magic and fire."
It was on that day, that Hamilton Renaud, aspiring Knight and Ranger Lord, held an outstretched hand with upturned palm to Whistlepig, and from that day forth The High Five was known on Golarion, and it would be adopted by all who would go forth and perform mighty deeds.
Ham tries his best to ignore the voice inside him--the one that tells him no one with Orc blood can be trusted. He knows Ushyle has his back and he clutches to that and swallows his hatred of The Orc. With cold steel in his gaze, he looks at Droja.
Iomadae would have him confront the evil and slay it where it stands. The Green counsels patience for all things have their purpose.
Your word, Witch. I'll take your word of honor that you will raise no blade or spell against my companions and I. Give it, and accompany us.
Doxon swings Agrimmosh once in a circle by his side, then plants the head of the warhammer down in front of him.
Begging your pardon, but why in the name of the Father should we trust you any more than a cracked mug? As far as we know, you're luring us into some sort of trap. She's one of the enemy. We can't trust her.
Raen smiles weakly. "If she was intent on setting a trap, we'd already be dead. She has seen us in the threads."
Raen pauses, then turns to the half-orc. "What else have you seen?"
"I did no such thing. Great warriors, hear me. The attack on your town was the idea of Grenseldek. That hill giant was attempting to amass a large dowry to impress someone called “the Storm Tyrant,” and the attack on Trunau was not only to gain the wealth left in the tomb beneath the town, but more importantly, to retrieve half of a strange stone treasure map. I have no wish for war. Inside the keep a different war brews. It is a war between ogre and orc."
She stops to think before speaking again, "I do not want this. I want none of this. General Karrguk is the leader of the orcs and keeps me as a slave. He is a violent thug. He wants the fort for himself—no giants, unless they kneel to him—but he is afraid to make the first move."
She stares intently at Whistle Pig, "There is opportunity here. I can get you a meeting with him. It is safer than war, yes?"
Ham is taken aback, but recovers.
Interesting.
Ushyle eyes the woman with scrutiny.
Ushyle thinks the woman is speaking genuinely. She can tell that he's trying to read her, and she responds, "Meeting or no, I have no quarrel with you slayers. I offer only my service. I have no love for the general. He doesn’t treat me well."
Ham looks at the others, one by one.
I'm interested in meeting The General. What say you all?
Hmmmm... I am sorry for your enslavement. We can free you and take you with us. Why try to help the chieftain? You harbor no love for him.
Ushyle considers Ham's words. Senseless slaughter is not our goal here, I agree, he says after a moment, then turns back to Droja. But talk is cheap, my lady — unless one values one's word. Tell us, what is your aim? Would you see the ogres depart? The general deposed? And what would become of you, then?
"There is a spirit in this place of brick and time. I have shared my visions with him. He says that the Heroes of Trunau are the key to my freedom. If you be clever, I believe that you can convince the orc leader to at least allow you to enter the fort without hindrance from the orcs. If you make peace with the orcs, then you will be free to slaughter and maim the ogres and that disgusting giant, Grenseldek."
"What guarantee do we have that the general and his orcs will not threaten Trunau once Grenseldek is dead?" Raen asks. Ever the tactician, she harbors a worry. "If we assent to a meeting, we lose the element of surprise."
"Raen, there are no guarantees, ever--Even if we kill everything here. But I'd hate to have the Orcs turn on us after we get beat up by Ogres and a Hill Giant."
To Droja:
"Will your master keep his word? Is he treacherous in his dealings?"
AND
Either way, will you take us to the chapel?
"Orcs are treacherous, yes. I cannot ken his future. But Karrguk lusts for this fort. He lusts for this fort without giants. He is merely scared to make the first move. You hold weapons of power, and you saved all of Trunau, the General will respect you, even as enemies."
"But lust and respect do not mix well over time. Free me, end the giant. It is the giant who went after your town."
Vael glances at his familiar when Droga mentions the spirit of 'brick and time'. "If a spirit has spoken ta ye, then it be true."
He looks at his allies and adds, "I'm all for takin' tha fight ta our enemies. And tha enemy ta Trunau be Grenseldek. We ken he's tha reason tha town was attacked, and tha main reason this threat looms. I admit this Storm Tyrant troubles me, but still. We shou' pick our battles. I, for one, pick tha battle with Grenseldek."
|
|
The fact of this half orc's slavery hit's the halfling like a ton of bricks.
"I understand a slave's torment more than most. I see no physical bonds holding you, so what chains or threats bind you here? Is this General Karrguk, the one holding you here? Are there other slaves here?"
WP waits for her response before determining a course of action.
"Treacherous. Lust for power. Slaver. Not traits I like in an ally," Raen says in disgust. But she sees the inclinations of her companions. "I don't suppose he would acquiesce to meet us here?"
Vael shakes his head. In Dwarven he says a few words.