"Well have to be sure to give this sorceress something to celebrate then!" Dalton says with a chuckle. [i]And see if the woman can show me any new tricks.
"Maybe he's got her enchanted or somethin'", Bjorkus muses. "Unless she's the type that's in madman with too much coin. I for one, think crazy Nuro is compensatin' for something..."
....scppd.....they say he....no it's not possible......every last one... "Wake up damnit! We have a situation!" You open the door to see Heff, disheveled and angry. It's about 2 in the morning, and everybody seems to be running around chaotically.
Heff quickly leads you down to the cells, and it doesn't take long to realize Gelrick has escaped. You see the ropes that were restraining him were burned off and lying on the ground, almost nothing left of them. The guard that was on duty is lying on his back, and you see most of his face was burned away by something, leaving a nightmare inducing image of a face with no skin and a good portion of the flesh burned away, eyes completely exposed and staring blindly up. The key the man was carrying is gone and you see a twin pair of blood trails leading to the storeroom. In the storeroom are several empty healing vials on the ground, and once you get to them the blood trail stops.
Bjorkus wakes with a start finding his conquest also waking from her position curled against his furry side. After helping her find her things, he has her help strap his new armor on and rushes outside to see what the commotion is about.
Finding the prison cell a bloody smoking ruin, the bull curses loudly.
" I thought you searched him and took all of his materials?" the bull rumbles in anger
Heff keeps a steady gaze on the party. "The guard at the gate searched him, the guard at the prison searched him, and I searched him personally. He had nothing but the clothes on his back."
"Then he had help. Do you have any people skilled in divination or investigation, including tracking?"
"You shoulda left him naked..."
"So what does this mean for the plan? It looks like we're gunna hafta attack early."
Bjorkus shuffles aggressively. "Your people ready?"
Laying a hand on Bjorkus's arm, Toramin quietly says, "Naked doesn't save us from treachery."
"Yeah, we have a court wizard who we saved from Nuro a few weeks back. He's our go to for this stuff." He tells a man to fetch this wizard. "Unless you have some way to contact your army they're not coming any earlier. The plan stays the same."
Lindale looks surprised. "Someone may have helped him as Toramin suggested. Or he is not just a lowly alchemist after all. If he has gone back to the king then they know about the resistance." He nods at Bjorkus' suggestion. "I think we must act before they come looking for us. Heff it might be prudent to relocate somewhere safer if possible."
Bjorkus snorts in frustration but calms down a bit at the dwarf's touch.
"So we gunna try to track this fool down?"
Heff throws up an arm in frustration. "And just where would you relocate over a hundred men in a city of a mad king who wants us all dead?" He shakes his head. "We know he left through the front door; that tells us he just backtracked and doesn't know the underground beyond what he has seen." He returns his arms to his thinking position. "We are going to need scouting parties, if Gelrick went back to the king then we have a fight on our hands."
"Let's follow those tracks and see exactly where he went. If he retreated into the ice maze, we should leave him for now. He's not gunna do anything to hurt us from there."
Bjorkus leaves the scene with a snort. He heads toward the mentioned storeroom to investigate.
Eventually a thin, pasty skinned human is brought to the scene. He turns green at the body, nearly losing his lunch. He begins walking through the scene, saying his thoughts out loud as he does so. He stands near the ropes, smelling them. "Standard alchemists fire, probably burned his wrists a good deal." He walks up to the bars, murmuring a spell and you see the faint image of Gelrick appear where he was tied up. "Here he cast an illusion spell to make it appear he was still back there. He probably called the guard over for something, then killed him when he got close enough." The guard follows the blood trail, doubling back on it a few times. Finally he reaches down and collects a bit of the blood, then takes out a scroll and casts boiling blood on it. You see the blood quickly rise to a boil and the wizard frowns. "This isn't orc blood." He finally makes his way to the storeroom, swabbing out drops of the empty vials and looking through the rest of the tempered with materials. "He modified a potion to mend his bones. See how that one is a different color? He heated it for the gas." He frowns as he looks back at the blood trail. "He was healed before he got here. Not the bones, but the rest of his wounds."
"Sodding fools", Bjorkus rumbles in frustration.
"Well we're never gunna find him now. The best thing we can do is double the guard, hope the mess he made didn't attract any attention, and go back to sleep."
You wake up to a soft kiss on your cheek and the feel of Daina against your back. She says softly "Hey, rise and shine handsome, you have to get to work. King's don't kill themselves." She rolls to get out of bed, faltering a little as her leg shakes. She sits back on the bed, laughing. "At least I already got my worst injury for the day." She does a few stretches and gets some water, taking a good 5-10 minutes to get limbered up. Then she surprises you by throwing a blunt length of steel into your hand and charging you with another, waking you both up with a morning sparring session. Finally the time to go comes, and she wraps her arms around you for the last time. "Now you don't get yourself killed, but if you do I expect to see a mountain of the royal guard around you." She gives you a long, passionate kiss, then heads out to get suited up.
The rest of the night is eventful but fruitless. The good news is that either Gelrick did not return to the king, or the king isn't making a play with the information. Either way, the rest of the night passes quietly. After ten minutes to yourself you're summoned to the dining chamber for breakfast with Heff.
As you are given a plate laden with food (since it's their last hurrah they're getting rid of most of their food) Heff runs over the plan one last time, confirming all the details. "And remember, the instant that gatehouse opens we are on the clock. We need to get to the castle as quickly as possible before Nuro tries to leave." Heff goes over a few more things, then tells you he will be waiting upstairs and you should be there in fifteen minutes, prepared to move out.
You are left alone to finish up breakfast, talk amongst yourselves, arm yourselves and read through your spellbooks, nothing of interest happening...then suddenly a thought occurs. Didn't Tiasar say he was going to contact you about now?
"While I must agree with the sleep, doubling the guard would be fruitless - a strike meant to wipe us out will. Subtlety was our armor, and it is now sundered."
*******
Dalton was looking forward to hearing from Tiasar, but the mage's lateness could be attributed to any number of variables. He worried less than he looked to the day ahead.
The following morning Bjorkus readies himself for the day, chuckling a bit at the girl's limp. "You're doin' better than most. You're able to get outta bed."
When Daina tosses him a weapon the bull rumbles with pleasure. He happily spars with the girl both to help limber her up and prep himself for the battle to come. When they're finished he grabs her in a sweaty embrace and returns her kiss. "I'm not plannin' on dying today - pile of bodies or not. You'd better plan on livin' too. I'm gunna need someone to celebrate with that can keep up."
Sweaty already, Bjorkus heartily breaks his fast. "Everyone ready? This is gunna be the biggest fight we've seen yet."
Earlier in the night: Toramin will ask the wizard, "Was the illusion arcane or divine in origin?"
Toramin is brooding over breakfast. There is a traitor in our midst. I have felt that half-orc's soul. He wasn't powerful enough to do that unaided. The question is is it our traitor or theirs? Logic would suggest it is ours because we are the different variable in this situation. Why would a hidden operative who had managed to infiltrate this organization risk exposure over someone like him? If the traitor was their's, this place would likely have been cleaned out once more than twenty had gathered. Thus low probability of the traitor being theirs. If the traitor is mine, it would either be Master Dalton or Lindale. Only they have the requisite skill in magic. I have seen Lindale use illusions, but not Master Dalton.
After a long silence, the stonelord will inquire, "Master Dalton, do you have the magic to turn someone invisible? It might be helpful if more than Lindale could pass unseen in this morning's mission."
The wizard goes on, rambling into the specifics. "Oh arcane, no doubt. When I brought the essence of the spell forth it had a multicolored aura, meaning it couldn't have been divine, you see..."
"Invisible? I am no thief!" In his experience, nobles were mostly worried about such an effect - it meant losing some of their prized possessions. "Changing what's seen isn't my specialty; changing what is is."
"My apologies, Master Dalton, I did not mean to impugn your good character. I was simply unaware that your studies had not dealt with seemings but only with beings."
Fascinating . . .
"Sounds like a lot of the same thing", the sweaty manotaur rumbles between bites of his meal. "What's it matter?"
"If more people than Lindale were invisible, then it would be much easier to take the gatehouses. It isn't necessary of course. Master Dalton's transmutations will be far more useful than illusions in the future."
"Too much talkin'", the sweaty minotaur complains. "We've got a tower to conquer. Does it matter how we do it?"
"If the way we do it preserves our lives, then yes it does matter. I agree that there is a time for action. It fast approaches, but I do not think I will be righting anyone with this rasher of bacon. So, now would be a good time to think. My hammer will be swinging soon enough."
Toramin playfully shakes a piece of bacon at Bjorkus.
There is a time and season for all things.
"This is quite a feast. Try not to load yourselves too much my friends. You don't want to be climbing a tower with a full stomach."
"Unfortunately we only have the one potion. I wouldn't mind someone else using it but then I could not see you to levitate you up."
You all walk up to meet Heff, who is waiting with eight tough looking men. Heff is in his signature feathered hat and red coat, not bothering to put on something more subtle. He ushers you outside where you are greeted by the sun, just peeking over the horizon but not over the walls yet.
After a few minutes of walking south you stop in the last row of houses, peeking around (and in some cases over) the building to look at the gatehouses. Heff slides over to the party. "Game time gentlemen. We have an open sprint across dead ground, so make it snappy. The instant we leave the cover of these buildings we are on the clock." He looks back at his men, signalling for them to get ready. He looks back at you. "On your go."
Lindale looks up at the gatehouse, judging the height from the ground to the third floor window to be about 40 feet.
Bjorkus keeps an eye out for defenders as the drow moves into position to lift off.
At the parties signal, all of the men run across the open ground . One of the men trips and swears, making everybody start sweating. However, after a minute or two of waiting no sound is heard from above. Heff looks at you from the eastern gatehouse, pointing up and to the door, then counts down quickly with his fingers from three. He points up to the top of your gatehouse again, raising three fingers and holding them there expectantly.
Lindale moves up the side of the building, peering into the window to see two officers and a soldier. One officer is leaning against the mechanism that holds the gate, the other officer is looking out the southern window, and the soldier is standing at attention, rambling off soldiers names who have checked in, making the officers nod in boredom.
Bjorkus approaches with all the subtlety of a stud bull.