Headran is going to try land clean hit to the back the neck.
(2/6)
Then Hedran steps away.
+1 Longbow, Point-blank Shot, Precise Shot, Durable Cold Iron arrow on Korred
Hedran stabs Linder in the back and he collapses on the ground. On Linder, the party finds a small club, and a key ring.
The cellar also contains 100 provision points of food. Opening the chest, it contains cheap spirits, cooking sherry, watery ale, and six bottles of rare herbal liqueurs worth 125 gp each.
As the sounds of combat cease, a hoarse voice comes from the jail cell, pleading,"Hey, would any of you be kind enough to let me out?"
Robert goes to the jail cell and looks inside.
"Who are you? How did you get captured?
Hedran uses his pearls of power to get spells back.
This broad cell reeks of death and filth. Several sets of manacles are bolted to the walls and ceiling, apparently much newer than the stone of the cell. Nine of the restraints hold only corpses, but a tenth set contains a weakly breathing halfling.
The halfling answers, "My name’s Cirieo. Cirieo Thessaddin, and I appear at the moment to be the commanding officer of Fort Ristin, on account of my being the only Chernasardo Ranger left alive here.”
Hedran will grab the keys and start unlocking the halfling. Then offer him some food.
|
Nigel winces when he sees what has happened in the cells.
"Of course! Be careful not to eat or drink too much at once - zat could be fatal, in your veakened state."
He moves to assist getting the Halfling out.
"Can you tell us vhat happened here? Ve are in ze process of clearing ze Fey out, and any tactical advice you can offer vould be useful."
"Some two weeks ago, though, we were attacked by a horde of hobgoblins, along with a passel of trolls and forest animals. No idea where they came from; scouts never mentioned a force anywhere near that size. We held our own, though, until their dragon swooped in, spraying acid and ripping down the north wall. I got in a nice knock on his jaw, and he returned the favor by biting my leg off and eating Errol. The soldiers bandaged up the few of us who survived and tossed us down here. " Cirieo says between wolfing down bites of of the food Hedran gives him. "Hey, this is really great, best meal I've even eaten in my life, do you have anymore? And a drink too. "
Father Noelan creates water in one of the containers lying around. He warns, "Not too much, Cirieo. You know that you don't let horses drink too much otherwise they founder. Our bodies aren't that different."He then adds, "And let me see to your leg."
"Father Noelan! This is unexpected, I didn't expect to see you this far in Fangwood!" Cirieo exclaims delightedly. "How's Abby?" Cirieo asks.
"The hobgoblins invaded Phaendar."Father Noelan replies grimly. "A small faction of the Phaendarians managed to get out, thanks to their heroics. "He gestures at the party. "We're planning to take the town back. Aubrin's in Misthome, with the other refugees who escaped Phaendar. Jet too."
Nigel helps a malnourished, scarred halfling with his left leg ending in a stump out of the jail cell. ”Thanks, whoever you are.” He tells Nigel.
”Don’t worry about my leg, I’ll just need to whittle myself a stick and I’ll be able to keep up.” He waves nonchalantly at Father Noelan.
Father Noelan winces. ”Infection is a thing – and in the worse case scenario at least we’d see what we can do about getting your leg back.”
”The hobgoblins actually took more care binding up my stump then the rest. They just slapped bandages on the rest. And they died one by one.” Cirieo says darkly.
Father Noelan unwraps the bandages around the stump and inspects it, pronouncing the wound healing well, though he regretfully tells Cirieo that he can’t really regrow the leg back without more powerful magic then he has – regeneration.
”There’s been a charming, hairy gentleman who’s been pointing and laughing at me the past few days, and he’s known as Halk Grundlechar. He thinks of himself as some kind of fey warlord, but we’ve spent the past few years liberating him of those illusions. Sounds like he and all the shiftless fey of the Chernasardo have made themselves at home.” Cirieo answers Nigel.
The dead bodies manacled to the cells consist of humans and half-elves, all whom died from horrific wounds incurred several days ago, including slashing wounds from hobgoblin longswords and acid burns.
"We've already killed some Koreds and the Redcaps in one of the Gatehouse Towers."
"Have you seen leaders come and go? Any particularly powerful fey?"
The Satyr start taking choice picks of the provisions, as much as they can carry, , grab a barrel from the wagon outside and make themselves scarce.
"Well, I just told you about Halk, then there's Dearga the redcap, which you probably have killed if you talked about killing redcaps, then there's a bunch of leprechauns and atomies. I wouldn't say the latter would count as powerful fey, though."Cirieo answers."I don't need to tell you about the Satyrs, since you've already met them."He gestures at the Satyrs plundering the cellar.
Father Noelan channels energy, healing everyone except Nigel, then drops a CSW on Cirieo.
Before the Satyrs leave the cellar, Robert looks them straight in the eye and says "This fortress belongs to the Rangers, and we'll take it back. The Fey that won't leave will be killed. Do not return."
|
|
Nigel nods to the Halfling.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Nigel. Do you need any healing at zis time?"
When Cirieo mentions the Fey leader, Nigel's expression grows dark.
"Zat sounds like someone vho needs a short, sharp attitude adjustment. Vhenever trouble brews, ze vermin tend to raise zeir ugly heads."
An indignant squeak sounds from Nigel's pack, and he delicately retrieves Ursula, digging out some sunflower seeds to feed to her.
"Present company excepted, of course."
She nuzzles him, and he responds by giving her a gentle belly-rub, before returning her to her enclosure.
"Come on - let's finish clearing out this place."
He then heads back upstairs, nodding companionably to the satyrs, but also making sure that they do, indeed, clear out.
One of the Satyrs sigh, "Yes, you old nag," points at Nigel, "He's already told us the party's over."
"Anyway, we've got our swag, so we're rolling out."The other Satyr answers laconically.
"Honestly, I'd rather get my weapons back,or a loan of some so I can go knock up some heads, but I'm not sure where the thieving hobgoblins put them. I'm fine."Cirieo admits. "And an opportunity to whittle myself a walking stick."
"You can borrow my shortsword. I'm a bit better with a bow, anyway."
The door to this room from the keep hallway continually oozes a thin red fluid that puddles on the ground at the base of the door. The liquid is good wine, but it evaporates if touched or moved.
The ceiling in this room is only six feet from the floor, and consists of cracked beams and blocks of stone pressing down from the collapsed tower above. Chunks of wood and stone litter the room, with a particularly large specimen covering half of a once-fine writing desk.
A ghostly figure with his skull crushed lurches towards the party."I must find a way to profit from my spirits!"
Grenwold recognizes the creature as a ghost. It is incorporeal and can rejuvenate itself.
"You see, the wagon out there contains my spirits but the Chesarnado Rangers wanted me to part with my wares out of patriotic spirit. Now let me ask you, which merchant would ever do such a thing? That wagonload of fine wines is worth 3000 gold pieces!"
Cirieo whispers from the back, " No we were not asking him to part with his goods without payment, but his prices are simply exorbitant. We couldn't agree to daylight robbery!"
"Yes we just want the fairest solution for everyone."
"If you're trading in goods, I'll have to give the market rates for the goods. Sorry, but you know how markets are. "The ghost answers. Then he adds, slightly aggrieved, "And oh fine, I'll accept 2000 gp worth of gold coins and other goods. But no lower then that. I traveled long and far to get here, you know."
'At least one of the rangers has survived.' Watching the halfling respectfully Ratel introduces himself patting his companion. "I am Ratel and this is Bear, it's a pleasure to meet you. I don't doubt that you will be able to keep up, but if you need a lift let us know."
Snarling at the disrespectful Satyr's "Yes, Rolling out is a good idea. It would probably be a bad idea to let us see you again."
Holding Bear by his collar so the curious omnivore doesn't do anything untoward, Ratel nods his head in agreement with Nigel's question.
Hedran nods in agreement.
”Well met, Cireao. I am sorry that the circumstances of your fort seem to be about as dire as they come. The situation is dire throughout Nirmathas, though the southern Fangwood may have been spared some, it is only a matter of time before either the Darkblight or Legion consumes us...” Grenwold offers Cireao some of his food and water as well. ”My name is Grenwold Hourtvester. And this is Fenton.” He points at Fenton and pats him on the neck.
Grenwold blinks at the ghost "Ahh, it sounds like we've got a decent trade here. We didn't catch your name. My name is Grenwold, it is a pleasure to meet you." Grenwold dismounts and bows politely to the ghost.
The Satyrs ignore Ratel as they take their time to roll out.
Specifically, leather armour, MW morningstar, and heavy crossbow...?
"I'll take all of that, thanks. Don't forget to pass the bolts as well." Cirieo replies. "I'm better with a crossbow then I am with melee weapons."
"Are you letting me ride your bear? I've never ridden a bear before! I mean imagine the stories I could tell if I have been riding a bear!" Cirieo gives an excited grin.
"Hmm...never heard anything about the Darkblight, seen too much of the Ironfang Legion. They've got a nasty black dragon with them, so we'd want to head to Fort Nunder to pick up the dragon slaying supplies they have there - we were troubled by a trio of green dragons for nearly a decade, just two generations ago." Cirieo comments.
"I'm Erno the Wine Merchant. Not really sure it's a pleasure to meet you, I don't think I should be here really, but I can't move on without making sure I made profits. Unfinished business, you know." Erno gives a hollow, dark chuckle. "Once a merchant, always a merchant."
The ghost moves over to the magical cold iron spear, then absorbs the magical cold iron spear into his ectoplasmic body, then says with a relieved sigh, "Now I have gotten a fair price for my wares, I can rest."
The large stone on the desk is scarred and pitted by acid and a few black scales are scattered throughout this room. A drawer in the desk contains gp, a falling rock having snapped off the lock.
|
|
Nigel nods to Cirieo.
"Sure! Happy hunting!"
Nigel nods to the ghost.
"I hope zat you find peace."
Once it is gone, he obsessively collects the dragon scales , then moves to check the desk .
After that (and Hedran has finished preparing his new spell), he moves on to the remaining door on this level.
Looking from Bear to the halfling, he shrugs, "Sure you can ride Bear, I don't have a saddle for him, but you could hang onto the training harness."
He then gestures towards the south east, "Shall we check that door before we go upstairs?"
He then goes over to the door and opens it up.
After absorbing the cold iron spear, the ghost vanishes. Nigel finds 3 dragon scales and 1060 gp in the desk.
"I'm just about done learning a new spell then I am happy to head out"
Cirieo loads his heavy crossbow, then happily grabs on the training harness and pulls himself onto Bear. "Woot! I don't think any halflings I know off can brag of riding a Bear!"
However it is clear that he hasn't exactly trained in riding, though he's managing to stay in saddle on purely being agile.
Hedran sits down and prepares spells. Father Noelan sees Hedran prepare spells and decides to pray for more blessings too.
A stone staircase ascends in the northwestern corner of this room and wooden doors lead out to the north and west. A makeshift forge, long cold, stands against the southern wall.
Two badly preserved taxidermic grizzly bears stand motionless against the walls. When they see the party they lurch awkwardly to life and attack.
Grenwold recognizes those bears as taxidermic grizzly bears. They are constructs and can grab with their claws.
Father Noelan shoots at the red grizzly bear, the first shot striking the doorframe, but the second shot into its eye, but it does not sink very far in.
Cirieo manages to stay on Bear's back, then fires his heavy crossbow at the Grizzly bear, but it bounces off its thick preserved hide.
Seeing the undead threat, Ratel calls back to Bear, ”Bear keep Cirieo safe, and listen to him, he knows what he’s doing.” Moving into the room, Ratel attacks the undead bear in the southeastern corner.
Ratel stabs the red bear in the gut and perforates the stomach cavity, but only straw comes out.
Hedran rushes in and swings his sword.
PA