Bedlam takes the scratch. The dwarf is still grinning.
Talathel's charge (see earlier post) carries him into the bandit who was just taking a poke at Bedlam, and the many-branched spear does grievous damage to the brigand.
And Sarge smites him down.
The private takes up a position on the opposite side of Sarge from Talathel, so that both sides of the old warrior are covered by reach weapons of some kind. He braces his weapon against incoming foes.
The two entangled bandits stomp slowly away from the main combat, pausing to shoot arrows at Tal, Bedlam and the mercenaries:
One stings Bedlam for a point of damage.
The remaining bandit leader calls to his men, "Take a shot, then draw yer blades--try to get between the ones what are sparkleblind and the others!
The last of the bandits on the side away from Brand/Anzath loose their arrows:
Their shortbow fire is ineffective. They throw down their bows and rush across the road while drawing their rapiers, taking up a position to protect their blinded and begooped companions.
Tragershen casts a spell. When he completes it, nothing appears to happen, but the elf grimaces in frustration.
Bluff
The more-wounded Brigand Leader fighting against Brand and Anazath whirls on Gelver:
...He can't pierce Gelver's chainmail.
Brand chuckles as the bandit leader turns away from his to face the half-mad warrior Gelver. "Oi, dat one is dangerous.... but den agin, so am I..."
Anzath whirls Critfisher up and then down again on the big leader, then with a quick jab thrusts her gladius forward.
Arcs of blood and gore spurt from the bandits facing Anzath and Brand. They are now standing alone with Gelver in the woods. The madman is grinning from ear to ear--grinning through his shrieks. He rushes back into the road and stands next to Talathel's squad, panting eagerly.
Elma herself giggles a little maniacally upon seeing that she's tagged a bandit in the group farther down the road with her crossbow. That the bandit doesn't seem too perturbed by her bolt does little to cool her enthusiasm.
The trio of blind bandits heed the calls of their companions and are now behind the thin line that represents the remnants of the gang.
Anzath spits on the bandit who stabbed her as he bleeds out all over the forest floor.
Aurora clutches her holy symbol and utters another blessing, this one focused on herself before a secondary spark flares out to her nearby allies.
She then moves up 20ft. towards the conflict.
Bedlam moves 20' closer to the remaining group of bandits.
Waving at the huddled group, the dwarf smiles while making a Bomb!
Bedlam's bomb smacks a bandit squarely on the body before detonating.
That bandit takes full damage and is glued to the floor .
The rest of the front row takes the heat--as does one of the blinded warriors in the back. The prevalence of goop along the front lines is causing some serious problems for the bandits.
Meanwhile, the blurry woman ponders her next move...
A clear voice rings out of nowhere (for all but Tragershen): "So you like blinding simple folk, do you, elf? Like peeping at girls who'd prefer to remain invisible? Well, how's it feel, old man?"
Tragershen feels his will wrestling with the incredible charisma of the invisible woman... then his world goes dark.
Tragershen is eminently aware that he's just been smacked with the visual half of Blindness-Deafness. It's permanent unless magically cured, but he knows the caster can dismiss it at will.
The voice continues briefly, seemingly addressing Aurora, "Cleric, your soldiers have fought well, and mine--not so much. Normally, I would be all too glad to blind you, one by one, or fry you with my lightning! But I'd rather not run out of spells--no telling if the Wolf Queen is about (and all this screaming!), and I need to save some juice for her. Here's the deal: I will give back your caster's eyesight if you use your magic to heal my gang, and we can call this a draw, maybe parley a little, and part ways as respectful co-habitants of the Forest of Hope."
Aurora realizes that anyone who can cast from invisibility without ending the spell--someone capable of casting Greater Invisibility--is probably a tough customer.
Anzath's face twitches as she tries to pinpoint the location of the disembodied voice.
Aurora inherently does not trust this, but she already knows there is very little she can do for Tragershen herself at the moment. She raises her voice, loud and clear, "I could be amenable to this if my allies are—I certainly do not relish in wanton bloodshed or shallow graves dug in the wilderness on either side—but we do need to acknowledge that you laid an ambush for us. Have we anything other than your word to prove goodwill?"
"You don't have to return my men until I give the old man his eyes back. Hostages, under your blades. First you heal. Then I dismiss the blindness. Then you turn over the men."
Brand frowns as the negotiations transpire, but stays himself from charging the nearest cluster of bandits. Instead, he offers a few words, hopefully well-timed to assist Aurora's place. "Ye know, it moight be eesier teh trust ye if'n ye ceese bein' invisible an' reveel yeself. P'rhaps ye'd grace us wit ye presence, den we cud trust in deese words a bit more. An' o' course, ye did try teh murder us, ye intend teh make roight fer dat, yes?"
Frustrated, wounded, wanting to end these fools, Anzath continues to scan about, now listening to the invisible woman for a tell in her voice.
Talathel readies himself to resume his assault at the first hint of combat - or treacherous intent.
"I am not opposed to a cessation of hostilities, but we will be ready if this is not one."
"You seem like a good soul, halfling, but I will watch from the shadows rather than expose myself to unnecessary risks. I won't deny that we were willing to use force against you--but you struck the first blow in this fight. Here's another gesture: men, throw down your weapons and gather our wounded. I'll answer for your safety."
The few still-sighted and ungooped bandits reluctantly drop their blades and rush into the woods. They haul out their dying and unconscious comrades. Some appear almost beyond Aurora's ministrations--there's no time to lose. The bandits lay them down near Aurora.
While this is going on, the voice falls silent.
You better bet Anzath glares HARD at the bandits who drag off her defeated opponents TO BE HEALED!.
She takes this moment of calm, however, to slip a vial out, uncork it, and down its contents.
The pain in her side is eased, a little.
"Ve vere vinning dis fight," she mutters as an aside to Brand.
"A crippled mage could harm us more in the long term. And treachery we can respond to.", Talathel softly replies.
Aurora hums, then takes her holy symbol in one hand. She concedes, "Very well, then." A radiance of pale white light arcs through the air around her, sparks of positive energy dancing through the air.
"Give my friend his sight back and I will mend them further. But they are less inclined to die now."
Bedlam continues to whistle.
Tragershen remains silent, contemplating what he could do should hostilities resume.
The young woman sees that her gang is mostly stabilized. "Fair is fair. See, elf!"
Tragershen's vision returns.
"Another jolt of healing and then be on your way, ok? We won't attack you again as long as you keep the peace on your side."
Aurora nods. Another arc of positive energy swells through the air.
It is utterly underwhelming.
Even so, some of the wounded are coughing up blood--it's encouraging!
The party may now leave the scene of the battle.
If you don't leave peacefully or want to do more, feel free to keep talking, start the fight again, whatever. If you do leave, you will make it to Zelkor's Ferry without further incident. I'll narrate the triumphal return to the town that already sees Brand, Tragershen, and Aurora as folk heroes tomorrow...
Bedlam continues to whistle, as he walks down the road.
Aurora is content to offer the opposing group a polite nod and continue onwards to the Ferry, so long as the rest of the group is. She'll keep a cautious eye behind them for the rest of the journey, however.
Talathel will pivot as the group begins to move out, ensuring that he is covering the rear guard. And seeing the actions of the bandits for as long as possible. He is injured and clearly ready to strike if provoked.
Then, and only then, will he begin moving with his allies.
Brand chuckles at the invisible woman's words. "Aye, de bird best rem'ber dat de worm ken 'ave sharp teeth as well! I trust we'll see no more o' ye durin' our travels back an' fort? Well den, good day teh ye!" He slips his swords into their sheaths and retrieves a piece of fruit from his pouch to begin eating.
His elven companion's vision returned, he gives one of the bandits a soft kick in the rear as they scramble away. He glances over his shoulder as they continue their journey to Zelkor's Ferry. Turning to the others, he shakes his head. "Damn, bested by an invisible witch! I ne'er e'en saw 'er..."
Tragershen is quiet as they leave, scanning around sharply, knowing he is the only one who could see the invisible.
When they are a respectable distance away, Tragershen apologizes. "I am sorry that I couldn't stop her spell from overwhelming me. I will try to craft defenses against such things so as to not be a burden to the rest of you in the future."
Anzath grumbles to herself as they move on.
Day 12-21
The party rolls into Zelkor's Ferry with no further incidents.
The guards fling the gates wide when they see their saviors returning--they keep a wary eye on Anzath, Bedlam, and Talathel, but soon conclude that wariness is better focused elsewhere.
Bristleback, the burly innkeeper of the Boar's Board and (incidentally) the sole proprietor of Zelkor's Ferry, welcomes you warmly. His daughter Sawen embraces Brand, Tragershen, and Aurora--her eyes search for Joden and the others, but when you explain that they are (possibly) still alive and well, she's relieved.
The little inn is again packed. Sawen explains that a large band of mercenaries is here, looking for work. They will likely proceed either up or down the coast road, selling their services to the representatives of Riddleport in the north or Magnimar in the south--the proxy war over Rivenrake continues, even though Zelkor's Ferry remains calm. They also expressed interest in exploring old ruins, she adds, "They remind me of you guys, a little, except they don't seem to have any magic..."
Sarge recognizes a few of them, buys a round of drinks, and confirms the story. "Looks like the war is heating up around here. If you don't need us, I might sign on with them, Ms. Bourse..."
Elma reminds Sarge that his contract was from Riddleport to Rappan Athuk... and back. She also reminds him that his new armor and equipment belongs to the company, not to him. Sarge sighs.
A hooded figure drinks alone in the corner of the inn, quietly avoiding any association with the mercs.
Rasmus Pye offers to purchase anything you have, immediately setting off squabbles with Elma. She insists that you take all good back to Riddleport.
Gelver follows Brand everywhere. He shrieks whenever anything is loud or startling, and sometimes he shrieks for no apparent reason at all. He calls Brand "Killer buddy!" and acts out the combat against the bandits several times a day for audiences real and imagined.
The residents of the Ferry explain that Captain Lamb won't be returning for nine days.
Time to settle in, enjoy the hospitality, deal with the locals.
On the second to last day before your ship arrives, a keelboat floats into town. Riko Jaskin is the captain of the Yellow Dagger, and his small crew of sailors swells the already-bustling city. He carries a few rare trade goods from the ragged mining operations far upriver, mostly cut-rate onyx for dubious future uses.
"None of us are immune to such things, Tragershen. But reducing the likelihood of being affected by them is a worthwhile endeavour."
************
In town, Talathel does his best to smooth relations with the locals and itinerant groups of mercenaries. And to obtain any further details that might be of value.
The mercenaries are a rough lot--most are veterans of the endless wars that rack the mainland and know no life but that of the sword. Talathel quickly ingratiates himself with them (and the town in general). It seems that they deserted a lord's campaign when the money ran out--but then the lord won the war without them, and put a bounty on their heads. Enough to send them to this backwater town. They were told to meet with agents of Magnimar for an assignment to patrol the coast road, but the agent is late. Dead on the road, likely. Time to find a new employer, before the last of the last of the coin runs dry.
Sawen the fair hangs around with Talathel a lot. He soon learns that she's a warrior in her own right, skilled with bow and blade, as befits the youngest, and possibly final, member of Clan Bristleback. You get half a sense that sometimes she might even be... flirting with you a little. Bedlam also receives encouraging signs, and even Brand is not entirely left out, especially after she hears tales about his skill at arms. One gets the sense that Sawen is on the lookout for a companion, and that martial classes are marital material.
Tragershen sits with the others, but is somewhat withdrawn. He eats with them, but spends most of his time with the books. He studies the two spellbooks they acquired (the kobold's and Gelver's wizard's). He also takes some time to update his journal, continuing to scribe the tale of their adventures. His description includes several sketches of Draceana the Green.
Sometime during their first day, he'll ask Sawen "Is there anyone that sells exotic inks, or ingredients for exotic inks? The kind a wizard uses?"
That first day, he will also pull Bedlam aside. "In that melee back there, I was the only one who could see Draceana when she went invisible." He pulls out his spellbook and shows him two pages. "I had just finished working out this spell. Is it something you can adapt for your use?"
At the end of the eighth day in Zelkor's Ferry, Tragershen insists on casting detect magic on all of the loot they have brought with them. He explains "Sometimes objects are given a false aura, and something that we think is mundane is actually magical, or vice versa." He does so with the spellbooks as well, making sure there aren't secret pages lurking in them.
Sawen brings Tragershen to the shack of Ullman Dark, the town (witch) doctor. He looks the part of necromancer in his black gown, but his magic seems very unusual--mostly potions, though he mutters about his ability to cast rituals that restore life to the dead. He normally charges extra for magic ink (3 GP per spell level over the usual), being the only purveyor on the island, but says he'll give it to you at the usual price if you can bring him back certain exotic ingredients either from Riddleport or from the wilds.
Tragershen finds the following (selection courtesy of a random spellbook generator):
Value 215 gp
Pages Filled 14/100
Spells
2nd Hideous Laughter, Locate Object, Scorching Ray
1st Alarm, Animate Rope, Detect Secret Doors, Enlarge Person, Feather Fall, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Ray of Enfeeblement
The only object that detects as magic in an unusual way is the agate that looks like an eyeball, taken from Yaza Mongro's desk.
Calm and safety give him plenty of time to Spellcraft its secrets. He holds a single Spy Eye.
Should he activate it, he sees only static--as to be expected, now that you are more than ten miles from where you found the original. Something to investigate should you ever return to the Mouth of Doom--or sell it as a curiosity for about 1000 GP.
The first chance she has, Anzath pulls Brand aside and gives him a stern lecture about his continuing crude insinuations about she and Talathel. "I vill NOT be humiliated," she concludes.
However, later, when she sees Sawen spend time with the elf, she storms off, seemingly angry and confused about something.
She calms herself down by introducing herself to the silent stranger.
The man seems surprised to have been approached at all. By his bow and blade, he seems a fighter type. He introduces himself as "Ippolit Athanor... I like it here in Zelkor's Ferry. So quiet..." but you lose his next words as he's interrupted by a sound of shattering glass and uproarious laughter from the mercenary table, followed by Sawen's positively booming voice handing out rebukes and insults in the most colorful of backwater slang...
"...so yeah, I can relax. You don't look like city folk. Someone's always spying on you in the city. I used to work for the Guard in Riddleport. I think I'm gonna live here now, though." He sighs, and takes a swig of the Bristleback burdock astragalus wormwood butternut squash stout.
"The ale's good, there's that. The simple life. Nobody skulking around. Just got to find some work and this place will suit me fine."