Yngvar casts a cure!
Zosimos (mis)fires a bow!
Sündr's readied action goes off and she vanishes!
Riegel's shot doesn't hit by much, but it doesn't need to; the worm-demon shrieks and collapses on the ground!
Blue charges Reigel!
Green charges Yngvar!
And Zosimos gets a dretch of his very own!
The peasants drop their farming implements and get as far from the dretches as possible!
Sündr's attack of opportunity and follow-up, along with Yngvar's strike, are enough to bring Green down! It vanishes in a puff of brimstone-scented smoke!
DO I NEED COLD IRON FOR THESE HOBS???
DO I NEED COLD IRON FOR THESE HOBS???
Zosimos cannot, in fact, hurt the dretches.
Riegel can, though, and ends Purple's miserable existence; it, too, vanishes in a puff of brimstone-scented smoke!Blue goes to town with a five-foot and full attack on Riegel.
Together, Sündr and Yngvar take down the last dretch!
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"Nicely done, my dear, Sündr! I see you have had most excellent training. Now come closer and let me tend to those wounds."
Yngvar gathers his companions and the villagers around. He then lifts his arms and declares in his native tongue, "Velsignet Dawnflower, med healing lys, lukke våre sår og reparere våre hjerter at vi har tur i ditt lys igjen!"
The Ulfen priest channels positive energy in a 30 foot radius. A burst of radiant light brings healing energy throughout the area.
Once the villagers have been healed, Yngvar addresses them, "How are you my friends? How long have you had to endure such vretched demons?"
All four Mendevian commoners fall to their knees before you. Praise Iomedae that you arrived when you did! says the woman who carried the flail. We were brought here by those...things...to fight for their amusement. They spoke inside our heads! The man with the scythe nods in agreement. They told us if we attacked Baucus and Philemon here they would let us live. And that if we didn't, they would kill us and our families!
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Do they seem legit?
"You are welcome my friends. We fight for you."
To our cantenkerous guide, "Sir, there is nothing wrong with ethical hedonism. A heartfelt thanks can recharge a heart as assuredly as prayer to a cleric. We've done good work here, and we've only lost a minute or so. I am ready to move when you are."
You return to Sir Ilivan with a few minutes to spare, and he appears legitimately relieved of your return. I see you have survived, he notes as you approach. Upon remounting, he spurs his horse and heads to the road. Still, he says aloud, seemingly mostly to himself, a few fewer demons means little in this accursed realm — there will always be more. Looking back at you, his face is set back into a grimace. We should get back on our way to Fort Portolmaeus.
Continuing along, the River Road climbs inland into low hills. Atop many of them, the West Sellen River can still be glimpsed off to the left.
After several hours' ride, the Road gradually begins to descend through the hills. Both Riegel and Zosimos gasp as they spot a dark plume of smoke in the distance. They point it out to Sir Ilivan, who confirms it's coming from the direction of Fort Portolmaeus as he quickens his horse's pace. Soon, a dark stone keep with tall curtain walls comes into view. It sits on a tall rock outcropping in the West Sellen River, surrounded by rushing waters on three sides. A stout, stone bridge connects the fort to the river's eastern bank, with a closed wooden drawbridge protecting the final approach. The walls surround a squat central keep that peeks out above the outer fortifications.
From the looks of it, Fort Portolmaeus has been the scene of a recent battle. Soldiers dressed in the colors of Mendev move around it making repairs, while others use carts to remove the bodies of humans and demons slain in the recent attack.
Your company is clearly seen shortly after you spy the fort, as a patrol of four horsemen quickly approaches. Keep your hands away from your weapons! Sir Ilivan hisses, then looks expectantly as Zosimos. Well, don't just sit there, Lord Loquacious — go on! This is your specialty!
The patrol stops 60 feet away, arrows knocked in their bows, and calls out, Halt in the name of the Queen!
Upon hearing the passphrase, the soldiers lower their weapons and grimly beckon you forward. The head of the patrol comes forward. Greetings, fellow crusaders. I am Sir Morgan. What is the nature of your business at Portolmaeus?
Sir Ilivan says nothing, but he holds up an envelope bearing an elaborate wax seal. Sir Morgan motions to one of the patrol, who fluidly dismounts and strides over to receive the envelope, returning it to Sir Morgan. From Queen Galfrey herself, Sir Morgan muses. You should speak with Commander Wardroxan. With a motion of his arm encouraging you to follow, he turns his steed and leads the patrol toward the keep.
At the closed drawbridge, Sir Morgan calls up to the defenders, and a moment later a soldier peers over a battlement and quietly stares at your group.
It appears the soldier atop the walls is a Paladin of Iomedae, and your party is being checked for evil alignment.
Shortly thereafter, the drawbridge lowers to reveal a heavy portcullis studded with cold iron spikes, which is next raised. A handful of soldiers leads you through a narrow zigzag tunnel to the central courtyard. The fort's central building sits squat in its center, an impressive, monolithic edifice with few openings. A number of young stable boys come out from a side building to attend to the horses mounts, guiding them to the stables.
Inside the central structure, you and Sir Ilivan are led past a massive menhir 30 feet high that pulses slowly with dull purple light and emits a low buzzing sound, which stands at the bottom of a tall, amphitheater-like chamber carved into the bedrock upon which the fort is built. Beyond is a doorway to an office, in which sits a charismatic young nobleman with pale skin and black hair dressed in a mud-spattered uniform that hasn't been changed since the last battle. She is handed the envelope Sir Ilivan offered outside, which she opens and scans quickly. She then rises and comes out from behind her oaken desk to meet you in the shadow of the wardstone. Greetings, Sir Ilivan. Greetings, members of the Pathfinder Society. I am Commander Wardroxan. With an worried tone, she continues. Please excuse my appearance; the demons attacked in the dead of night, a mixed group of dretches and schirs led by a terrifying brimorak — a creature of horn, claw, and fire. The wardstone had been buzzing just as it is now; it didn't seem to stop them. She swallows hard. The demons captured a scout patrol alive and staked them out on the ground in front of the fort. There they tortured them close enough for us to hear. I am ashamed to say that we deliberated on whether we had the strength to retaliate, but as the screaming and begging continued, I sent our cavalry to put at end to the suffering.
She sighs heavily before continuing, her voice cracking and subdued. Of course it was a trap. A group of schirs wielding halberds met our cavalry and wasted no time in dragging them from their horses. The dretches then overwhelmed them with sheer numbers, clubbing them into submission. They slaughtered the horses and dragged off the soldiers while we looked on helplessly from behind the fort's wall. I sent out another party after that, but most of the demons had already withdrawn with our captured men.
Your arrival is fortuitious, she says, recovering her composure. I need you to rescue these captured soldiers; the majority of my garrison has already been removed, transferred to Nerosyan and to other more strategically valuable locations before last night's attack, and we simply don't have the reserves to send out on a rescue mission.
The Commander is honest in her assessment of the situation. Sir Ilivan is decidedly unhappy with the orders she has given, however.
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Riegel gives the Commander a deep bow. You stand true against the demons, and I say thankya, big big. Our prescribed mission is recon, but if you are asking for my aid and succor, I am proud to give it. What you describe...ain't no way for a soldier to die. I won't speak for my fellow Pathfinders, but I doubt not they would ride with me. We are still under Sir Ilivan's command, though, so while you know my mind, he's the one who has to let me--us--do this deed.
The gunslinger crosses his arms and falls quiet, waiting to see how the rest unfolds.
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Zo's sharp senses continue to make up for his lack of combat help. He subtly shares his observations.
"Sir Ilivan. I see the weather darken across your brow. Speak freely. I see this as a good opportunity. Every armed rescued is another to swing against demons. Let us do this. Let us do this and see goodly kind strengthen.
BOOM
Sir Ilivan is quiet a moment, then fixes a chilly stare on first Yngvar, then Zosimos as he speaks carefully. The Commander has given her orders, he says. It is not our place to question them, only to carry them out as we can, to the best of our ability.
His answer seems to please Commander Wardroxan, who nods and turns to answer Sündr. I sent out a dozen men on horseback to rescue the captured scouts. Three of them died in the initial assault, and I think the rest were captured alive. I don't know how many are still alive, but demons have been known to capture crusaders to be used as food, slaves, and 'examples.'
She pauses a heartbeat, thinking, then continues. As for their numbers: at least three score demons attacked last night, and we counted fourteen dead dretches and schirs among their fallen this morning. Our lookout reported seeing the chained cavalrymen heading westward into the Worldwound a mile north of here, surrounded by a small group of guards — no more than a half dozen strong. This gives me hope you may succeed, while allowing the rest of our garrison to man these walls.
Lastly, Commander Wardroxan says, please keep in mind that undertaking this mission is not an order, for you or for Sir Ilivan — merely a request for aid. Should you opt to help, we have a few supplies we may be able to offer. It's not much, understand; but it's something. With this she takes her leave of you.
Sir Ilivan watches the Commander depart. When he is convinced she is out of earshot, he explodes. A fool's errand, this — clearly. Nothing but another ill-conceived endeavor dreamt up by this inexperienced Commander Wardroxan, in a vain attempt to assuage a conscience wracked with guilt! He shakes his head incredulously. What end can the Commander hope to achieve with this? These men are unfortunately already beyond our help, and most likely have already been killed for food or sport. Which is sad, I suppose, but a reality of war.
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"Blessed Sarenrae, guide me this day and this moment to bring your will into this world. This man is in your need of help. Send me, use me that I may help this man find his faith!"
Yngvar casts guidance upon himself and turns to give Ilivan some words on faith.
"Sir Ilivan, vhy did you not bring this up vith the commander? It is clear you have strong feelings about this. I'm sure she vould have velcomed your input and your experience." Yngvar pauses a moment before continuing. "Forgive me for being so direct, but have you looked vithin and listened to the voice vithin us all? The Dawnflower vill hear your vords and give you strength vhen needed. If you do not have some faith, this line of vork can be difficult. Ve must give of ourselves each and every day and trust to the forces of good that are unseen! The present moment is the only time ve are given and it is up to us to decide how ve use it. Do not vorry about the past and future, for the battle is fought in the now. Do not let the shadow darken your heart, my friend, for the enemy vould like to have it do so, but trust me when I say the forces of light are on our side and the light vill always prevail. Now, Sir Ilivan of Erages, vill you join us in the task laid before us and bring you vealth of experience to our company?"
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The gunslinger is nodding at Yngvar's words, thumping a boot at appropriate moments, and even interjecting a Say true! at the "the battle is fought in the now" line.
When the cleric finishes, Riegel adds Aye, spellslinger, you have the right of it. As long as there is hope these lads might be brought home, it is our duty to give aid. Sir Ilivan, how many chances does a man get to say 'yep, I walked into the f*$&*ing mouth of hell to save a fellow warrior?' Will you walk away from that chance??
"Sir Ilivan, vhy did you not bring this up vith the commander? It is clear you have strong feelings about this. I'm sure she vould have velcomed your input and your experience."
Sir Ilivan takes advantage of Yngvar's pause to laugh sardonically. And what good would it have done? Her mind is made up, and she doesn't realize just how green she is, or how foolhardy this "rescue" is.
As Yngvar continues, however, the knight appears to consider the Ulfen's words. Riegel's mention of duty appears to stir something in Sir Ilivan as well — though he is quick to respond More often than you'll ever know! to the gunslinger's question about walking into the mouth of hell — and nods gravely at Zosimos suggesting the sooner the better.
Commander Wardroxan has requisitioned 10 flasks of holy water, 2 potions of cure moderate wounds, and 3 potions of shield of faith (CL 6) for your group .
After saddling up, Sir Morgan provides a small map marking a shallow ford across the West Sellen River. This makes it relatively easy to cross with the horses. Riegel's Survival training makes it easy to pick up the kidnapped soldiers' trail on the other side.
By your best reckoning there are three demonic captors driving eight humans.
Two of the demons are dretches, while the third leaves charred hoof prints in the ground, indicative of a fiery brimorak.
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I suggest:
We each take 2 Holy waters, with 2 extra (I suggest Zo because he can't do much else.)
2 Cure Moderate to fighter types (Yngvar and Sundr)
Shield of Faith to whomever wants (Zo would take one so he can at least try to do some flanking.)
He'll also take a Cold Iron case of bolts and a light crossbow.
The trail heads nearly due west from the river, and several rises allow Zosimos a solid vantage point from which to observe the way ahead. Just atop one such rise, a few dozen feet away from the waiting party, Zos sees the trail continue past a patch of particularly nasty ground, from which has formed pustules and blisters alongside a sickly copse of grayish wildflowers.
The scent of the flowers is not entirely unpleasant, even as Zosimos overhears Sir Ilivan call him a fainthearted weakling...and hears Riegel, Sündr, and Yngvar join in the ridicule! When he whirls to look at his companions, he sees them laughing and pointing at him!
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"when the shootin' starts, let's take down the dretches first, and fast. Focus on one at a time, then focus on the bigger one. Agreed?"
"In the heat of battle, it may not be so simple, but taking doon dretches vill feel rather easy compared to destroying the Brimorak! I cannot see any easy way about this."
"The bigger the better," the skald grins, "I'd rather have that one!"
"You do have an Ulfen heart, my dear. Your courage is an inspiration to us all!"