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Rickus hears Otho call out. Meeting place? Other than getting to those woods across the way, I have no idea where the meeting place is. Better make sure someone else makes it out alive with me. Actually, two reasons to make sure others make it out. If I show up alone, I'll likely be shot on the spot.
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Katyeva's daggers sink into the weak points of the hobgoblin's armor. Yowling in pain, the warrior twists to defend herself from the rogue only to have Olaf bring his flail down in a brutal arc. The armor buckles under the blow, absorbing most of the impact, but the oracle can still hear some bones snap. Finally, Rickus finds his mark, lodging an arrow just below Kergri's eye.
The heavily-armed soldier slumps over, struck from all sides, her sword clattering to the ground. With the death of the bridge's guardian, the refugees break cover and run across the bridge, making their way towards the treeline of the Fangwood.
Olaf stuffs all of the dead hobgoblins stuff into his packs and drags it across the the bridge.
"Bramblefoot! There are many potions in here to look over once we escape. I do fancy this breast plate, even if it is dented." he finishes mumbling to himself as he crosses the bridge with his heavy packs.
Dropping excess weight back from the bridge he stands ready, flail in hand, watching his companions deal with the bomb, watchful for new threats.
"Yes, yes, I will examine each in due time. Now, let's get everyone over the bridge. Kining, would you be kind enough to show me the weak point for the bridge to collapse it?"
After making sure the survivors get across the bridge safely, Otho turns around and takes up a position against the side of the bridge.
"I will cover you from up here Carthas. Be quick. It is only a matter of time until more hobgoblins arrive."
Otho readies his bow in case any threat approaches.
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The way is clear, I could get to the woods and get away from all of this... no. No we have to finish this job. As soon as they know where they went, we'll have hobgoblins and wolves close behind. They must be stopped.
Rickus crosses the bridge and keeps watch from the far bank, giving him a good view of any hobgoblins making their way from the village. "I've got my bow at the ready too. Be quick with that stump thing...whatever it was called. Although this is a good position, once they figure out how many of us got out this way, we can expect a sizable force."
Katyeva grins as her opponent falls; she's already forgotten the name. "OK, let's go! Move! Move! You two-" she indicates the half-elf siblings "-good work with the shooting. Get to the far side of the bridge and cover us, OK? Anything tries to cross that isn't us, you put an arrow in its guts."
Hustling along beside Carthas, she shadows him as he works on bringing the bridge down. If anything tries to stop him she'll deal with them.
Olaf waits on the end of the bridge, watching his companions setting up the bomb. Watching for more hobgoblins to smash he quietly bickers with the ghosts in his head about the likelyhood of the group's survival in the coming moments, flail idly twirling in small circles as if in anticipation of smashing more skulls in the near future.
Olaf had to admit, in the rare moments of lucidity his chorus of ghosts allowed him, that he was really excited to see the bridge go boom.
Kining steps forward, scowling. "Set your umgi bomb at the base of the wooden frame. It was temporary, meant to be knocked away when the bridge was finished. Wait till the rest of us are across, light it, and run like hell."
Taidel and Lirosa raise their bows to Katyeva in a rough salute before following the rest of the refugees across.
Otho impatiently stands by, waiting for Carthas to plant the bomb and tell them to run.
Quickly... We haven't got all day...
"Thank you very much. Now, everyone run like the dickens, if you please. I won't delay in lighting the fuse."
Carthas goes about setting the stump remover up at the base of the wooden frame.
Otho nods at Carthas, "Alright. C'mon Olaf."
Otho makes his way to the other side of the bridge and takes cover behind anything he can find.
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As soon as he is sure everyone has made it across, and there is no hobgoblin pursuers that are going to interfere with their escape, Rickus makes a dash for the forest along with the others. "Although it's going to make moving troops difficult, that's going to catch a lot of attention, and there will be some enemies that will have other ways across, so everyone out of sight quickly."
Once in the cover of the first tree of the Fangwood, Rickus stops to take one last look at what had been his unintended and unwelcoming home for the past few months. Was this our fault? No, I can't take the blame for this. I didn't unleash these beasts on anyone. But I did take solace knowing they were between my men...my friends... and the enemy at one point. Does that not make me just as guilty as those who brought them in? Is there any way to make up for it? There are so many of them, and so few of us.
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Katyeva lingers at the bridge, watching it burn. Smoke streaks mark her face, smoke stings her eyes, but she ignores it. Beyond the bridge, the town of Phaendar burns; above the roar of flame and crash of falling timbers, she can hear the screams. Screams echo in her memory too, distant but not forgotten: the screams of her family dying, slaughtered by hobs while she hid beneath the wagon, too terrified to make a sound. The caravan wasn't much, but it had been her home. Phaendar hadn't been much, but it had been her home too - or as close to one as she had needed.
Some things you only miss once you no longer have them. Her eyes sting; not all of it is from the smoke.
She shakes her head angrily, to clear it, turning away and catching up with the others. Once in the cover of the trees, she looks at the motley crowd of refugees. Sheesh. She can't be stuck with this lot. Time to make a hasty exit, bundle out of there and get to... where, exactly?
I thought you were better than that, Kat.
Gods.Damn.It.
Katyeva looks again at the crowd of people: Otho, Doc, the half-elf siblings, Kining, Aubrin... others that she knows. She sighs.
"OK, I know this isn't how we planned to spend our evening; but we're Nirmathi... or at least most of you are; we can handle this. Let's get undercover quick, and everyone make sure that they and their neighbours are unhurt. Doc here can deal with serious injuries - everything else is gonna have to wait for a while, OK? Now let's get moving."
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Olaf trundles across the bridge with the group and turns to watch the bridge explode.
It was everything he expected yet somehow... less. He watches the bridge collapse with something of an uncharacteristic melancholy, though his outward appearance showed only his usual fevered stare and idiot grin.
Why would I feel sad? This is a marvelous sight! ... because you know the futility of fighting the Iron Fang! Give up and die already!
Olaf sighs as his noggin ghosts start bickering once again. He doesn't want to admit it but his melancholy is because yet again he has to tuck tail and run. He went through his entire life without a major defeat and now he has been handed two in a matter of days.
In his heart of hearts he knows this blow to his warrior's pride will take time, much time, to come to grips with.
Even as he watches the bridge collapse he yearns to charge across and lose himself in the red rage of battle, die on his feet as a warrior should. A good death, a warrior's death.
Yet he knew that was not his path, his path was to flee for now, gain strength, and drown this forest in the blood of his enemies. He could feel his path laid before him, as if he was destined for something greater.
Yet as he lugs his double packful of equipment into the forest his ego rails against the stain of failure and retreat.
...we could always call it advancing to the rear? A tactical withdrawal? ... no, this is retreat, savor the sting. It will make victory all the more sweet... Die to the IRO... shaddap!
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Carthas barely makes it off the bridge before the explosion. A bright light, followed by a loud whumpf of rushing air, sends dust and pebbles rushing towards the woods. The elf is thrown clear of the blast, his mutagen-enhanced body absorbing most of the damage. With a groan, the stone bridge of Phaendar bends and warps before collapsing into the waters.
Beyond, a ceiling of smoke hangs over the city, reflecting the orange glow from burning houses. Ash drifts in the air like falling snow. The screams of townsfolk have died away, leaving an eerie silence broken now and then by the howling of wolves or the harsh tones of the Goblin tongue. Bodies lie in the streets, sprawled in pools of blood where they fell. It seems everyone else in town may be imprisoned or dead except for the hobgoblin invaders. Phaendar has fallen.
Aubrin nods with Katyeva's words. "Aye, we need to put as much distance between ourselves and the hobgoblins before light."
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Turning his attention back from the burning town to the woods he now stood at the edge of, Rickus pauses. "My entire life, this forest has been an impenetrable wall. It existed on maps, and in ghost stories, but it wasn't something you'd ever set foot in. The biggest danger of these woods were always the rangers, but even without that threatening us, I'm sure that not all the stories of this place are untrue, and other challenges await us."
He turns his focus to Otho. "None of the maps I had access to are reliable in the features of this forest, and I don't know what really lies ahead of us. I hope you will be able to guide us somewhere where we can defend ourselves for the night."
He looks over those that have made it this far, trying to take a count of both the people and the supplies gathered. "We have injured to tend to, and we will need to start planning for food, medical supplies, and defense." Looking over his own weapons, he looks for the abled bodied, and hands off his club, longsword, and crossbow to those who can use them. "Let's find the best camp we can before darkness falls."
Carthas picks himself up and stares at the burning town, an idly amused look on his face. Suddenly he cries in pain and drops to his knees, the plant-like features slowly receding and his body returning to its normal half-elf personage. Panting heavily, he returns to his feet and stares, somewhat in horror, at the burning of Phaendar. He remembers seeing Oreld, dead on the ground, and...feeling nothing? Shuddering, he thinks of the casual danger he exposed his newfound companions to, and the dispassion he had for their lives. The mutagenic substance, however it worked, was clearly not a healthy choice. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it again.
Standing and shaking his head, he turns and runs into the forest with the others, saying, "We'll tend to the injured then, so long as everyone can move. Let's go."
Katyeva snaps out of her morose thoughts as Carthas cries out and falls. Hurrying over to him, she does her best to help him back to his feet. "Hey, Doc. Easy now. We've got a way to go yet."
She chatters to him, trying to reassure herself as much as anyone else. "No idea where we're going, though, I'm a city girl, you know? Nobody pays me to stab trees... still, one of this lot has to have a clue about woodcraft; this whole damn land's one big forest..."
She volunteers to take point as the group heads deeper into the woods. With her ability to see in the dark, she doesn't need to carry a light source as she ghosts over the terrain.
Katyeva has a quick word with Olaf before heading off to scout: "Keep an eye on Rickus, and make sure everyone knows he's your prisoner, and nobody beats up on him but you." She gives the burly northerner a smile. "Please don't beat up on him." The Mothuni fought well against the hobs, and is now surrounded by homeless and angry Nirmathis - she'd hate for him to end up dangling from a tree branch.
Unless he really is a spy, in which case she'll cut his throat herself.
Olaf stares, blank faced, at Katyeva for perhaps a moment too long as he struggles to understand her request when, finally, memory takes over and he recalls the details of Rickus's joining the group.
Nodding, he wanders over to walk next to Rickus. And raises his bull voice in a commandimg growl.
"Townsfolk! Listen up! This man," pointing to Rickus, "former prisoner has helped us greatly. He is as responsible for your survival as amyone. He is my charge and under my protection. Any who look to take revenge on him... go through me. Understood!"
He ends his speech with a statement, not a question. He accompanies this is with a suggestive shake of his bloodstained flail and a growl, not to mention his insane stare and, perhaps, look of longing for the next fight.
Staring the whole group down, he grins.
Carthas looks from Kat to Olaf before quietly saying to the woman, "Something tells me that isn't what you had in mind."
Katyeva tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and gives Carthas a smirk in response to his remarks. "Whatever works, Doc. Whatever works." She's fairly sure that, unarmed as they are, nobody is going to pick a fight with Olaf.
Boom.
In a moment of fire and fury, the world before Otho changes is a way that can never be undone. Otho stares at the burning village for a moment, then turns his attention towards the group. ”Quickly, we need to get further into the forest, the more distance we put between ourselves and this place the better. Let’s move!” Otho ushers everyone further into the forest.
We don’t have time for melancholy right now.
As people start to move, Otho takes the envelope filled with dust of tracelessness out of a pouch on his belt.
Just pretend like you know how to use it. I am pretty sure that is how these magic things work.
Otho looks over hesitantly at Rickus, then proceeds to sprinkle the dust over their tracks as they venture deeper into the forest.
After spreading the dust on their trail, Otho catches up to the group. ”I sure hope that dust did what it was supposed to, but even if it did, it will only keep them off our trail for so long. We need to keep going until we can find a good place to rest and regroup. I used to run through these woods ... when I was younger. I think there is a good place not far from here. Follow me.” Otho leads the group through the woods towards a good place to rest.
When I was younger? That has barely been a few months since I have been in here. A few months ago, everything was so… different. And now? Otho shakes his head as he walks and thinks. No, no. There is no time to dwell on that. I need to find that place…
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Rickus snaps to attention at Olaf's proclamation. That should at least make sure I make it through the night...although now if he dies, that could be trouble for me. And at times he seems to seek out death. "Thanks...I think. I hope I'll earn the trust of everyone here, showing them I'm worthy of the trust you are already showing me."
Despite Aubrin's insistence, the group of refugees struggles in the darkness of the Chernasardo woods. The lush canopy of the forest above blocks most light from the moon and stars, leaving visibility to what meager light the group can muster from torches and lanterns. Rolling hills, house-sized boulders, gullies, sudden drops, and thick stands of undergrowth make for difficult and dangerous travel.
Eventually, the tired and bedraggled group must settle down. The first night is spent in the rough. A pair of tents looted from the Ironfang soldiers are provided for the young and injured. The rest must spend the night outside. Thankfully, the night is warm, dry, and passes without difficulty.
In the morning, the light of day reveals the situation. A little more than two dozen survivors remain from the surprise assault on Phaendar. Their faces bear a mixture of anger, sorrow, and confusion. Morale is low and rations are meager. Aubrin sits on a stone nearby, eating a withered apple.
"Good, you're awake," she begins. "We need to get started."
Katyeva wakes up blearily, her head and muscles aching. Wait, why is she sleeping on the ground, outdoors? She winces. Must have been some night - oh. Yeah. That.
With a groan, she sits up, rubbing a hand over her soot-blackened face. "Coffee?" Her eyes meet Aubrin's, pleadingly. "Bath?" She shudders at the thought of all the dirt and sweat she's accumulated, and makes a face. Fastidiousness isn't going to get her very far, out here.
She scowls. "Give me some good news."
Olaf had been up before the dawn, unable to sleep further due to the bickering ghosts in his head.
It seemed they were the worst in the last hour before dawn, yet he felt reasonably refreshed and a thrumming in his bones told him that he would be able to cast potent magic again this day.
He proved it by conjuring several helmetfuls of water to cleanse the blood from his body and weapon. The cold water served to finish waking him.
He spent the remaining early morning hours keeping watch over the sleeping camp, alternatively bickering with his ghosts and adjusting the straps on the breastpalte he had pulled from the final hobgoblin. It appeared to be large enough to fit him, if just barely.
Seeing the ranger stir, he wandered over to hear the discussion about what is next.
The smart move would be to simply move on from this area, he had no ties to this town or debt to its people, yet this group had fought well and true. Plus the Iron Fang basically killed him once, and stuck ghosts in his head.
He owed them many smashed skulls for that.
Carthas, used to sleeping rough, awoke no worse for wear. He took some vials and substances from his pack, as well as a book full of formulae. As he listens to Aubrin, he continues his work. ”Do you think we’re safe here, or should we keep moving?”
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Rickus moved away from the camp a little before dawn. Taking a stick, he draws Erastil's bow and arrow symbol in the dirt, making a makeshift shrine, then spent quiet time in prayer, seeking what guidance he can in the current situation.
Once he completed his prayers, he took one last look at his makeshift shrine and then turned back towards the camp, hearing more and more people awake. He used his stick to begin drawing in the dirt again. This time a very rough map of Phaendar and the surrounding landmarks. He places the river and the bridge, a waterfall up river to the north, and more settlements to the south, some beyond the Mothune border.
"I don't know how the hobgoblins got into the center of Phaendar with that tower, but the fact that their attack came from inside of the town might give some hope. A typical siege involves surrounding the town, controlling every way in and out. Although they took some key positions, the fact we were able to move around the exterior of the city shows how little control they had away from the tower. They put a guard on the bridge, and I'd assume they would have done the same on both of the other roads heading out of town. One heads south, and one west. We made a full circle of the city before going to the bridge, but it's possible that others might have made it across the bridge before the hobgoblins were able to secure it. The same may have occurred at the two roads. Even when the roads were covered, there was some wooded land that could provide some cover on the southwest side of town, and the river could provide an exit." Rickus points out the basic locations on his dirt sketch.
"Why do I bring any of this up? It's possible there are other survivors. I'll assume the hobgoblins will hunt down as many as they can. It will be easiest for them to track down anyone who took the roads, followed by anyone who went southwest through the light woods. There aren't any natural barriers to following, and their wolves can track by scent. If anyone made it into the river, they may have a better chance. It's a matter of where they go. They could loop back into the woods here, hit one of the other settlements, or even head for Molthune. We may need to find a way to set a watch for anyone returning from the south and reaching the woods. More likely, there may be some survivors who got across the bridge ahead of us, and who are separate from us. I doubt there are any groups this big, but if there is anyone else who made it here, it's our duty to find them and protect them as best we can. We need to find a place to build ourselves some shelters, especially since we are likely to be in these woods through winter, and we need to build our food stores for the same reason, but I believe not focusing enough on scouting will cost lives of those we could otherwise bring into the fold."
Otho wakes up sore and stiff. Ugh. I guess I didn’t layer the branches quite thick enough. I never thought I would be missing my lumpy bed that I had in… Phaendar. The memory of the town comes rushing back to Otho in an unwanted wave of sorrow, and confusion. Otho shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the pain and the guilt that he feels. To clear his mind, Otho gets up and walks towards where some of the survivors, including his new friends, have started to gather.
"Good, you're awake," she begins. "We need to get started.”
”Do you think we’re safe here, or should we keep moving?”
”I don’t know. How can we tell if we are safe? That… tower, thing, came out of nowhere. I think we should look for a better spot to make a more permanent camp; something by a river, or perhaps a cliff for some shelter.”
”… especially since we are likely to be in these woods through winter…"
”Wait, what? No, this should only be a temporary situation. The hobgoblins will move on, won’t they? They come, they plunder, then they leave. Right?” The fear is apparent in Otho’s voice as he asks his question, and his eyes are wide as he looks around the group for reassurance.
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Rickus looks sadly at Otho. "When hobgoblins were under the employ of Molthune, they were supposed to hired to guard a fort, and defend the civilians behind it. When they fought off a major attack by the rangers, they disobeyed orders, went on a rampage, and attacked the civilian encampents, killing everyone they found. They didn't pillage and loot. They killed every man, woman, and child they found."
"Now, these same hobgoblins are have attacked Phaendar. They are no longer under the employ of Molthune...I have no idea if they found a new employer and this is part of some greater plan, or if this is just the next step in the hobgoblin massacres. We do know they are taking prisoners, likely as slaves this time. However, it is safe to assume when we return to Phaendar, all we will find is ash."
"Trying to rebuild Phaendar won't be possible before winter falls, not to mention, it is in the open, and will be even less defended if the hobgoblins decide to come back. There are other settlements, and we should explore and reach out. If we can settle in another village, and Phaendar was the only village attacked, then that may be our best option. I don't know how they got into the center of the village as easy as they did, however. Whatever they did here, they may do elsewhere, so until we can confirm, we have to assume that other nearby villages my have been attacked just the same. We have to assume the cover of the woods is our safest option for now. Whether we build or find shelter, plan for the worst. It's better to prepare for winter and not need the preparations, than it is to get stuck in a winter unprepared. Nature would happily finish off what the hobgoblins have started."
Katyeva shrugs. "Does it matter, anyhow? Unless you can build a bridge - or fly - we ain't getting back on the Phaendar side of the river anytime soon, hobs or not." She shivers, unhappily. "Great. Just rakking great. I decide to winter in my favourite hidey-hole and this happens. I knew I should have gone to Korvosa instead."
Carthas looks at Otho. "The lack of any way across the river does mean that going back to Phaendar is going to be very difficult. We might as well see about setting up some kind of permanent shelter. Is there anywhere nearby we can use?"
The disappointment in Otho's face is noticeable as his shoulders slump and he looks towards the ground.
I guess this is kind of what I wanted. Although, I was hoping I would be with the rangers instead of… Otho looks around at the ragtag band of survivors. At least I have my friends.
"Is there anywhere nearby we can use?”
Otho thinks for a minute about any location nearby that he knows.
Aubrin chuckles lightly at Katyeva's comments. "I'm afraid not. In our position, not for a while." Her grin slides back into a grimace. "I'm also afraid I have none to give."
She turns to Carthas, her blind eyes tracking where the alchemist sits. "With the bridge destroyed, it will be some time before the Ironfang can cross in any great numbers. If this site is amenable, then we should be safe here for now."
Aubrin listens to Rickus, nodding her head. "I agree. Your efforts will be best spent exploring our surroundings. We will be safer if we know who or what our neighbors are, especially if they're survivors like us."
"The Molthuni is right. There is nothing but 100 miles of the Fangwood between us and Tamran. Whether we like it or not, this is where we'll be for the winter. We must do what we Nirmathi do best. Tighten up. Hunker down. Hit back when we can, on our terms."
Hesitantly, Otho speaks up about a possible long term location nearby. ”I do have one idea, but I’m not sure if you are going to like it. There is a cave system to the north of here that we could use to live in. The problem is that it is occupied by a group of cannibals. Maybe a few of us could scout it out to see if we could have a chance of taking it over. The caves would provide us with shelter from the elements as well as make it much easier to defend in case we are attacked.” Otho looks around at the group for approval.
”Kat, would you be willing to come with me to check it out?”
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Rickus looks surprised that Aubrin so readily agreed with him, although he winces slightly when he's referred to as "the Molthuni" even though he tries not to react.
I didn't incite a riot, with my speech. That's a positive. Although if everyone continues to think of me as the Molthuni, it's only a matter of time before one of them tries to do something about the enemy in their camp. It was ironic though. It's not long ago, I would have been on how to burn out a camp like this to get the rangers away from this deathtrap of a forest. Now, here I am trying to plan how to survive in these woods with Nirmathan refugrees. Fortunately, they sound much more confident in their experience being out here. I'm not quite sure all of their experience matches their bluster though, I can't think of our forces getting this far north, at least as long as I've served. The border has been pretty tense, but stable for quite some time, with mostly villages closer to the border being the battlefields.
A bed and roof back at for Ramgate sound good about now...of course the execution for desertion and treason would make that a short-lived comfort.
"If this site is safe, should we perhaps turn to making shelter? Who knows how long we have until the nights truly get cold?"
At Otho's suggestion, Carthas says, "The caves aren't a bad idea. The trick would be clearing them out. We aren't in a position for a long-term sortie - and who knows what threats lie closer than these caves?
I propose this: Let's set up a semi-permanent campsite here and gather supplies. We'll then start scouting the nearby area, gradually making our way to the caves. Once there, we'll decide if our best course of action is to clear the current inhabitants out, or find another shelter."
Olaf shakes his flail at the mention of cannibals, "Bah! After I'm done all you will have to do is drag their bodies out!"
yeah right... they'll kill and eat you... if they do that maybe tou can infest their stomaches instead of my head! Enjoy an eternity as a cannibals stomach... erp, maybe don't get eaten ok?
Fading back into the real world, Olaf offers, "or I can help build shelter, I will build mighty homes!"