JZ's Reign of Winter (The Frozen Stars) (Inactive)

Game Master JamZilla

Gimme some more diplomacy checks.

Commander Pharamol listens patiently, despite the squabbling among his officers.

It was your choice to leave the Legion, Corrleon. And though our parting does vex me, I am not a Commander to turn away a good bowman.

Some of the men saw you fight from the walls. Bescaylie and Corrleon speak for both your proficiency and your intentions. But somehow I feel like the fate of this siege, and my people, hinge on the decisions that are made in this room....

Corrleon nods. "They proved themselves quite capable in making their way here, Commander. And it is my sincere hope that they might help the Legion and that the might Legion help them. There are darknesses and evils on their world that they came here to fight. Just imagine if the key to breaking Yrax's hold lay on their world and members of the Legion found themselves within their walls somehow." He stiffens his posture and offers an earnest nod. "As outlandish as these circumstances may be, I think all of us stand to gain a great deal from helping one another here today."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (16) + 17 = 33

Thankful for corrleons interjection on their behalf Elleross hopes his words will be enough to sway the commander.

you have nothing to lose by helping us commander, but as corrleon has so eloquently said you may have much to gain. So what say you? can we help each other?

diplomacy aid corrleon: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Alright. the Commander says decisively, pushing his chair away from the council table. As you say, perhaps much to gain. The creature is a rare treasure, but a price I do not hesitate to pay if you can help my people.

You can see one or two of the council members appear to be disappointed with this decision, but the majority - led by the resplendent Sumira - seem in agreement.

Bescaylie, show them around the fortress and see that they have what they need. To answer your earlier question, we have no support that can come to our aid, save yourselves.

Yrax is determined and resolute, and I have no doubt his generals leading this siege are any less so. We do not have the numbers to sally forth so I believe our best course of action is to repel their attacks and wait for the weather to close in. We have supplies aplenty here in Spurhorn and I think our best chance is to make this siege Hell for them, to make it so difficult and to grind their numbers down ot the point where they realise this is an unwinnable siege.

I believe you should settle in. This siege will not be over quickly.

Corum glances at the others ten think well if no one else is gonna tell him...

"Thanks chief but I don't think this curse will let us wait out this siege. I can already feel it pulling me, Seems Baba Yaga ain't patient. You got a fool's errand to run it need someone to take out this general? Just say the word cause I need to be doing something."

Grayston feels uplifted at the thought of getting another piece to this big puzzle. But holds himself back, now is not the time for out bursts. He looks around the room at all the assembled commanders. He stands up as Corum speaks translating for the large man.

"He's right, to a point." He adds on after finishing. "It's an ever gnawing feeling an itch you can't quite get to. But we aren't volunteering for a suicide mission. We just don't have weeks we might not even have days, this curse will kill us."

Sapphire grimaces and nods at Corum and Greyston's words.

It's as they say, the magic that pulls at us needs us to make progress. Have a think, is there anything that we can do that will end this quickly for you?

She taps a finger on her lips as she thinks

Destroy their supplies? Target their leadership? Threaten another location so they have to leave? There must be something that would make them break the siege!

Whilst you're correct in that the curse isn't going to let you sit around and wait, it doesn't kick in immediately - especially if you are doing something to further the cause of finding Baba Yaga. Negotiating for the two-headed eagle counts toward that.

You do feel that ever-present nagging feeling. But it isn't causing you discomfort yet.

This is an opportunity to rest up and possibly resupply and so on

Noted. the Commander says. Return to your quarters for now, or feel free to walk the walls or the rest of the fortress. I need to think on this and how we can turn your presence to our advantage.

Would you like a list of the locations in the fortress?

You could show them the prison, Corrleon. Thornull sneers, leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. And then maybe the front gate. You're pretty familiar with walking through that...

"I am glad to see you've learned some restraint over the years, Thornull. Here I was expecting you to ask all your questions with your fists."

The wiry Triaxian kicks his chair away form the table where it topples with a crash. He crosses the distance between the pair like a stalking tiger and then, inches from the taller Corrleon hisses;

Only when I get the wrong answers. This is war, Corrleon, you should have stayed in the wastes if you didn't have the stomach for it.

"Principals may not win the war, Thornull, this is true. But abandoning them will ensure we lose in the long run." He sighs lightly, holding the shorter triaxian's gaze without flinching, his hands still clasped behind his back. "You have your convictions, and I have mine. It's plain that neither of us will change the other, but might we at least make the effort to work together in this despite those differences?"

Another of the Triaxian officers, even shorter than Thornull, though built like a bull, with enormous shoulders and short, grizzled bodyhair intercedes.

Enough of that, lads. he says, putting a meaty hand between the pair and easing Thornull away. Only one enemy and it's the one outside those walls.

This is Zusk. He is the bonded rider of Herjan, the deeply scarred black dragonkin and together they make a fearsome pairing.

Indeed. agrees the Commander. Thornull, get to the wall. You have a shift rotation in less than half an hour, I want your crossbowmen primed and ready for anything. Go on now, do your duty.

The wiry Triaxian doesn't break eye contact with Corrleon for a moment but then Zusk utters what can only be described as a short growl and he relents, simply saying Yes sir. over his shoulder as he leaves the room.

As Thornull passes the group in anger Corum leans in to whisper in his ear, making sure no one else hears. "Threaten one of my friends again..."

He leaves the thought hang and meets the angry stare with a steely gaze.

Greyston shakes his hand. This is exactly the same reception I'd get if I returned home. The pit of his stomach churning at that thought and the alcohol he drank yesterday.

"I hope your men won't be distracted by Corrleon, he is with us now. He helped us out and he wishes to help here also. While you have time to think maybe it would be best for all of us to take a look around if we're going to defending this place we should know how to get around." He places a hand over his mouth unsure if it is gas or this mornings breakfast.

I think a list of areas is a good idea, maybe any big points of interest.

Thronull doesn't understand the words the alien warrior speaks, but he recognises a threatening tone when he hears one, and reacts as any battle-hardened soldier with his temperament would.

He places a furry hand in the centre of Corum's chest and shoves hard. Corum is alrger than this man, but the strength in his wiry limbs is impressive and he has to take a step or two back.

Thronull's face curls into a snarl and he shouts something Corum doesn't understand.

The rest of the council explode into action then, the sound of raised voices, scraping chairs, the clank of metal armour erupts as they rush to separate the conflict.

Pharamol is shouting, his face a mask of fury. Zusk, Samira and Herjan jostle Thronull away, Zusk shouting something in the leaner Triaxian's face while Herjan, towering some ten feet of muscular dragonkin, just looms and snarls.

Talsune, a copper-coloured draagonkin with large horns and a greatsword strapped on his back, and Amarenth, another dragonkin though this one resplendently gold however make sure to place themselves in front of Corum and glare down at the barbarian with nostrils flaring.

Grayston rolls his eyes letting out a deep sigh as he steps back away from the furry of Triaxian and Dragonkin. Making friends again. He steps all the way to a clear wall this side of the room empty with everyone rushing to Corum. Taking out his flask he hesitates for a moment, his head pounding like a hammer on an anvil.

So he cocks he head back and take a long gulp of his flask the strong alcohol burning it way down his throat and he feels more at ease. Watching the commotion from a safe distance.

The warrior shoves Corum but strength is matched with strength and the barbarian takes only a step backward. To the surprise of some that know him and despite the general mayhem that ensues, he does not lose his temper. Quite the opposite: he smiles! A broad and genuine smile of delight.

He is no bully, his comment was not meant to intimidate or cow the man. It was his way of drawing a line. If setting out what he deemed acceptable in terms of behaviour toward those he considers his friend. For a warrior, finding an opponent who meets a challenge head on like he would is not something to be disappointed in, it is something to be cherished. Here is someone who may provide a worthy challenge.

He laughs loudly then to put the room at ease, then speaks in the direction of Thronull. "We know where we stand then. Just know, you get that one for free." Then he looks up at the dragon kin that loom over him and laughs again. "It's ok boys. No need to block the light."

He turns to his comrades then and says "Let's take a look around then."

Corrleon shoots Bescaylie a look, the ridges on his ears trembling slightly as grief washes briefly over his face. He shakes his head, swallowing his disappointment, and turns back to the strange travelers from Golarion. "Indeed. Though perhaps we shall leave the tour of the ramparts where our crossbows are posted for after the next shift change."

He does not know what Corum whispered into Thronulls ear but it doesn't take a genius to work out it was some kind of threat or insult and as the room erupts he curses Corum silently.
Drawing in a sharp breath as the triaxian shoves Corum in the chest he waits for the warrior to explode in rage.
When Corum laughs and mocks the triaxian and the dragon kin Elleross relaxes slightly, thanking all the gods for small mercies.

we do not need this foolishness he hisses as he steps back beside Greyston
we will have to watch Corum, Thronull does not strike me as the forgiving kind, this is not over he says quietly to the young alchemist.

Bescaylie and Thronull lead the group quickly form the council chamber.

B1. Outer Walls Spurhorn’s outer walls are 30 feet high and 10 feet thick. Slick with ice, they require a successful DC 35 Climb check to scale. The walls are crenellated, and groups of four Dragon Legion crossbowmen regularly patrol the battlements.

B2. Bastion: Eight of these squat towers protrude from Spurhorn’s outer walls. Forty feet tall, each bastion has two floors aboveground, equipped with arrow slits on all sides. Each bastion has a crenellated roof and holds two light ballistae, one heavy ballista, and one firedrake (Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Combat 161), usually covered to protect them from the weather. Doors provide access to the tops of the outer walls (area B1) and interior stairs lead down to the bastion armories (area B15). Ten Triaxian soldiers serve as crews for the siege engines on each bastion.

B3. Courtyard: This wide, open area is used for mustering the troops. Its large paving stones are currently buried beneath several feet of snow.

B4. Blockhouse: These squat, solidly built stone structures contain stairs leading to Spurhorn’s lower level.

B5. Keep: Five towers flank Spurhorn’s pentagonal central keep. The keep is 30 feet tall, the four western towers are 40 feet tall, and the eastern tower (the “Lord’s Tower”) is 60 feet tall. At ground level, the keep is a solid stone block. Ten feet above the courtyard to the northeast and southeast, huge 20-foot-wide doors open onto a sloping flight ramp that leads down to the assembly hall (area B38) on the lower level, allowing for quick deployment of flying dragonkin. These doors are 8 inches thick and kept barred (hardness 8, hp 120, break DC 30).

B6. Tower Armory: These rooms, at the bottom of the keep’s central towers, store armor and weapons, all of normal make, for Spurhorn’s defenders.

B7. Guest Quarters: These chambers contain spare but comfortable furnishings for visitors to Spurhorn. If the PCs join the fortress’s defense, they are housed in this area.

B8. Private Garden: This garden is a refuge of quiet and solitude for Spurhorn’s commander and visiting guests. Built on the roof of the keep, the garden is open to the sky above and is currently buried under several feet of snow.

B9. Tower Guard Post: Six Triaxian soldiers are posted in each of these guardrooms. Stairs lead up to trap doors in the towers’ crenellated roofs.

B10. Guard Quarters: The guards stationed in the tower guard posts (area B9) are quartered in these rooms, each of which includes a small storeroom under the stairs.

B11. Conference Room: This room contains a long table and comfortable seating for around 20 humanoids or dragonkin. Commander Pharamol holds his war councils here. A door to the west leads to the private garden (area B8), and stairs climb to the commander’s office (area B12). A small storeroom under the stairs holds extra furniture, rugs, tapestries, and other decorations.

B12. Commander’s Office: This area is detailed below.

B13. Commander’s Quarters: This area is detailed below.

B14. Lord’s Tower Parapet: The crenellated roof of the Lord’s Tower contains a secret trap door that leads down to the commander’s quarters (area B13). Only Commander Pharamol and a few of his higher ranking officers know of the existence of this door, which requires a successful DC 35 Perception check to find from this side.

B15. Bastion Armory: These rooms hold ammunition for the siege engines atop the bastion’s roofs (area B2), as well as additional weapons for Spurhorn’s defenders.

B16. Access Stairs: These stairways lead up to the blockhouses (area B4) in the courtyard above.

B17. Workshop: The chambers hold tools and supplies used for the maintenance and repair of the fortress and its equipment.

B18. Smithy: Several forges for the crafting and repair of armor and weapons are located in this chamber. Chimneys in the blockhouse above the smithy provide ventilation for the forges.

B19. Storeroom: These storerooms hold a wide variety of tools and raw materials, including cloth, fur, leather, metals, and wood. Firewood (in the summer) and coal (in the winter) for the fortress’s fireplaces, ovens, and stoves are also stored in these rooms.

B20. Barracks: The majority of Spurhorn’s soldiers, including the crossbowmen and dragonriders, are quartered in these large rooms, which are filled with rows of bunk beds.

B21. Officers’ Quarters: Spurhorn’s officers share these quarters next to the troops under their command.

B22. Common Room: This large chamber contains a number of tables and seating for both Triaxians and dragonkin. Members of Spurhorn’s garrison congregate
here when off duty, maintaining their gear, playing games, or just relaxing and socializing.

B23. Mess Hall: Spurhorn’s defenders eat in this large hall filled with long tables and bench seating.

B24. Kitchen: A small army of servants prepares meals for Spurhorn’s garrison here. Chimneys in the blockhouse above the kitchen provide ventilation for the large ovens along the south wall.

B25. Food Storage: These rooms store all manner of preserved foodstuffs to see Spurhorn’s garrison through the winter or long sieges.

B26. Laundry: Servants clean the fortress’s linens and the garrison’s clothes in this room.

B27. Servants’ Quarters: Spurhorn’s large staff of servants (N Triaxian commoners 1) are housed in these rooms. These servants perform a variety of mundane tasks in the fortress such as cooking and cleaning, but they do not take part in its defense.[/b]

B28. Seneschal’s Quarters: The blue dragonkin Nevra (see page 25) occupies these quarters. As Spurhorn’s seneschal, she oversees all of the aerie’s servants and support staff and manages the fortress’s supplies and daily upkeep.

B29. Baths: These chambers contain communal baths for both Triaxians and dragonkin. Large stoves heat the chill water from the cistern (area B30) to comfortable temperatures.

B30. Cistern: Rainwater and snowmelt collect in this subterranean chamber, which is the only source of fresh water in the aerie.

B31. Armory: This large, central room contains mundane weapons and armor for Spurhorn’s garrison, as well as crates full of arrows and crossbow bolts.

B32. Infirmary: Priests of Apsu care for wounded soldiers in these chambers.

B33. Medical Storeroom: Herbs and medical supplies for the infirmary are stored here, including 10 potions of cure light wounds, six potions of cure moderate wounds, and two potions of cure serious wounds.

B34. Chapel: A large statue of a dragon in f light dominates this small shrine dedicated to Apsu the Waybringer, god of the metallic dragons. Apsu is the patron deity of the Dragon Legion, and many legionaries and dragonkin are his faithful followers. Six priests of Apsu (LG dragonkin or Triaxian cleric 5) tend the chapel.

B35. Priests’ Quarters: The half-dozen priests of Apsu stationed at Spurhorn who oversee the infirmary (area B32) and chapel (area B34) share these chambers.

B36. Hall of Remembrance: Paintings, plaques, and small statues honor past heroes of the Dragon Legion in this gallery.

B37. Guard Post: Two pairs of dragonriders and dragonkin, as well as four Dragon Legion crossbowmen, staff this guard post at all times.

B38. Assembly Hall: The dragonriders and dragonkin of the Dragon Legion assemble in this chamber below the flight ramp for sorties out of Spurhorn’s central keep (area B5).

B39. Dragonkin Armory: Weapons and riding tack for the Dragon Legion’s dragonkin are stored in this chamber.

B40. Training Hall: Members of Spurhorn’s garrison keep their fighting skills honed through regular practice bouts and training sessions in this large hall.

B41. Dragonkin Officers’ Quarters: Spurhorn’s dragonkin officers are housed in these quarters.

B42. Dragonkin Barracks: The rank-and-file dragonkin of Spurhorn’s Dragon Legion are quartered in these large rooms.

B43. Jailer’s Guard Post: Two Triaxian soldiers are usually posted here, but if the PCs have been captured, two Dragon Legion crossbowmen and an ice seer are assigned to guard the prisoners. The guards hold the keys for the cells in area B44.

B44. Jail: Spurhorn’s jail holds cells for both Medium and Large creatures. The cells are currently empty. The cell doors are made of iron bars, and equipped with good locks (hardness 10, hp 60, break DC 28, Disable Device DC 30).

B46. Ice Seers’ Barracks: The Dragon Legion’s ice seers stationed at Spurhorn are quartered in these rooms.

B47. Library: All of Spurhorn’s garrison has access to this library, which contains books on a wide variety of topics, from popular fiction to military strategy and theory.

B48. Archive: The books and scrolls filling the shelves in this chamber contain a complete history of the Dragon Legion and the Skyfire Mandate, with a focus on the
holdings of the Parapet Mountains, as well as ledgers and records detailing the settlements and inhabitants of the holding of Spurhorn.

He places the flask away and feeling his chest warm up he just smiles at Elleross words. "Watch him... What did we expect, I was just getting ready to watch him get a beating he needs. He lets out a long sigh as he watches the large brute brush it off.

"Humility is what he needs to learn, he doesn't care about his own life or how his action affects everyone else. I was just going to say something to him but whats the point, he won't learn he hasn't learnd."

This is really just a roleplay/exploration piece. But I can move the plot on if you would prefer

Corrleon remains silent for the most part as his niece walks him and the travelers around the fortress. He adds brief commentary when directly engaged, but otherwise seems to have his focus fixed upon some internal struggle. His demeanor brightens slightly as the group wends its way near to the chapel.
"Ah! It is heartening to see these doors once more."

Corum ignores Greyston's barbs for the most part, but scowls at that latest. "You need to learn too Grey. But that bottle won't teach you anything."

He storms off then and wanders the complex aimlessly until his anger dissipates. He finds himself near the training hall and decides to go in.

Sapphire rolls her eyes at both men's behavior.

She turns to Zusk and in a desperate attempt to maintain good relations, speaks

So it would seem that despite different species, different worlds,
still there must be chest-beating and one male's chest bigger than another.

She glances up and down the grizzled triaxian.

...err no offence intended, as I said I'm not great with words, I usually let my blade speak for me... kind of a drawback when trying to talk of peace...

She smiles

So what else is shared between our worlds I wonder? Is there perhaps a tavern or meeting hall where warriors go to relax and imbibe beverages that might lightly intoxicate them? Just wondering whether than might soothe the savage breast or whether it would add fuel to the fire... what are your thoughts?

Corum ignores Greyston's barbs for the most part, but scowls at that latest. "You need to learn too Grey. But that bottle won't teach you anything."

He storms off then and wanders the complex aimlessly until his anger dissipates. He finds himself near the training hall and decides to go in.

The training hall is empty at the moment, with most of the soldiers manning the walls or otherwise grabbing rest of food in the mess hall, an attitude Corum understands well.

But perhaps it is just as well that the warrior is alone as his anger bubbles under the surface.

The room consists of a series of weights in one corner, steel bars rimmed with holed plates, an empty arena-style area in the centre, racks of wooden training weapons and straw-filled training dummies.

Sapphire rolls her eyes at both men's behavior.

She turns to Zusk and in a desperate attempt to maintain good relations, speaks

So it would seem that despite different species, different worlds,
still there must be chest-beating and one male's chest bigger than another.

She glances up and down the grizzled triaxian.

...err no offence intended, as I said I'm not great with words, I usually let my blade speak for me... kind of a drawback when trying to talk of peace...

She smiles

So what else is shared between our worlds I wonder? Is there perhaps a tavern or meeting hall where warriors go to relax and imbibe beverages that might lightly intoxicate them? Just wondering whether than might soothe the savage breast or whether it would add fuel to the fire... what are your thoughts?

Hmph. Zusk grunts roughly. These are tough men and women trapped within these walls in a pressured situation.

They've been camped out there for weeks without a serious assault. But that still ramps up the pressure and lowers our resources. Keep that up long enough and even the most disciplined snap. Not that Thronull is that disciplined. He's a tough little bastard but he's got a pretty short temper. Seems the same with your man.

Mess hall is your best bet to get a drink, lady. I'll join you. You look like you already like a drink. he says over his shoulder to Greyston. Wanna come?

Thronull's an ar5ehole. Herjan growls. I'll come, Zusk, and I'll drink his ration too. See if he tries to get in my face about it.

Zusk laughs heartily and leads the group away, the massive black dragonkin bringing up the rear.

The mess hall is busy with several dozen Triaxians and Dragonkin eating their fill while they have the chance. Several look up at you but say nothing while Zusk and Herjan are with you, most just scoff spoonfuls of bland-looking food into their mouths and then whisper to eachother. A few nod respectfully toward you.

Corrleon remains silent for the most part as his niece walks him and the travelers around the fortress. He adds brief commentary when directly engaged, but otherwise seems to have his focus fixed upon some internal struggle. His demeanor brightens slightly as the group wends its way near to the chapel.

"Ah! It is heartening to see these doors once more."

Corrleon pushes open the chapel doors and instantly is struck by the massive statue of the majestic dragon-god Apsu, wings unfurled and head raised to howl defiantly toward the sky.

The hall is empty, like the sky above, with just the occasional pillow in the floorspace where some acolytes pay their respects to The Exiled Wyrm.

Corrleon! shouts a voice from the other side of the room, shattering the stillness. Icara, one of the sisters here, runs toward the paladin and throws her arms around him in a bear hug. I thought I would never see you again!

Corrleon's face lights up as the ridges on his ears soften and fall backward slightly. "Icara. Ah but it does my heart good to see you again. Moreso to see that these many years past have been kind to you." He returns the embrace, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of her head as he kisses her upon her brow.

He pushes her back to arm's length then, and regards her with a glance from her feet up to her face. Recognizing her robes, he smiles, "I see now that you wear the garb of a senior priestess. I always knew your faith was something special, Icara. I trust you're as good an influence upon my niece as I recall?" The question is obviously leading and asked with a wry grin.

Oh Bescaylie spends most of her time out in the air with Efrixes now, or at least she would if we weren't under siege. Icara replies.

But how did you get back and why now?

Elleross winces slightly as Corum bites back at Greyston and he can see the alchemist bristling with anger.
as harsh as it sounds Corum may be hot headed and quick to violence he is not wrong about the drink. he thinks to himself and he too was worried about Greyston. The last thing they needed was him to spiral out of control.
Watching Corum storm off he turns to Greyston go with the others, take some time to relax if you can. For the moment we are safe. Make the most of it until we can find our next path .
I am going to wander the fortress a bit, maybe I'll take a look at their libraries whilst I'm here he says and leaving Greyston to his own devices he limps slightly as he makes his way toward the store house of knowledge.

heading to the library j, just goIng to do some research on this place and the armies fighting each other
Don't not know if I can read any of the books but my linguistics is pretty good

Corum wanders around the deserted training room distractedly. He nonchalantly picks up a bar laden with heavy weights and casually tosses it aside to land on the floor with a crash that echoes on the empty hall. He then draws his longsword and strolls to the centre of the room. He looks down at the blade and considers the balance and feel in his hand. He had been long used to the long and heavy bardoche and the sword almost felt too small.

He then launches into a series of cuts and thrusts, whirling around the space in a brutal dance, not without grace but overtly savage. He gradually becomes attuned to the blade as he delivers a series of ferocious two-handed strokes at an imaginary opponent. His workout culminates in a ferocious assault climaxing in a mighty salmon leap and massive overhead cut that would all but destroy an ox (if one had been there).

He stands for a minute, panting and sweaty then laughs harshly and says to himself

"The sooner that alien brings me my new blade, the better. This pig sticker will do the job but I'm no bloody fencer!"

"You have heard, I'm sure, of the strange travelers that arrived yesterday? Bescaylie was the first to encounter them out in the wilds and she sought me out to take measure of them. I have been something of an escort for them since."

On whichever wings Apsu brought you back Corrleon, I am glad he did. Icara says, her facial fur bristling with embarrassment but genuine feeling.

Elleros makes his way to the library, where half a dozen Triaxians and one Dragonkin are relaxing with a variety of books and scrolls.

Row upon row of bookshelves are stacked in this room, in imaculate order. Elleros selects a few tomes at random and settles down to read. It isn't long before he is learning droves about Triaxus, but equally the strange letters dance on the page and begin giving him a headache.

Grayston holds back as the large man barks back at him. My drinking isn't hurting anyone. He bites back, watching him striding off.

"Be safe Elleross, I might just go back to be room. I will see you later, hopefully we can get to the bottom of all this sooner rather than later." He smiles lightly as he watches the old man limp off, he rubs his eyes and then moves to keep up with Sapphire and the others heading to the mess hall.

He places a hand on Sappires pulling her back lightly from the others. "What do you make of all this? Corrum is getting out of control again, why is he starting fights when we need their help. I can't stand what he's become." He hiccups on the last word but let's it all out hoping to get something from Sapphire some support, anything.

Lucrezzia overhears Greyston's worries and adds her opinion. "It's a wicked thing that you and the brute be right as a dawn in the east. He's an oaf, and dangerous. And you be drowning." She lays a gentle hand on the alchemist's arm. "When you an' I first laid eyes on tha' other we were both hurting. Your friend Corum is hurting, too. Mayhap you two need to find something cathartic. Drink and violence most like won' be no help to anyone but Baba's daughter."

Surprised when Greyston confronts her in the corridor, Sapphire's answer falters in her throat as she considers whether to tell the alchemist just how similar his behavior was to Corum.

As she tries to find the words, mercifully Lucrezzia swoops in and answers for her. Sighing in relief, she nods at the shaman's point.

There is wisdom there Greyston, and more importantly, you are among friends. Maybe none of us would have chosen this path if we had a choice, but we don't. All we can do is bear the load together until the journey is done.

She snakes an arm through Greyston's as Lucrezzia does likewise.

Let us go and sit and talk of other things for a while, soldiers have various games to pass the time and one of my favorites has always been 'the best meal'. So tell me Greyston, in detail, if you could have anything for dinner, any cuisine, any preparation, what would it be?

Greyston pulls away from both woman, knowing the words they speak to be true knowing deep down that there is no point in any of this and he should just go with them but he just can't.

"We are nothing a like... I do everything I can keep you all alive even that oaf!" He raises his voice but is quick to lower it again. "I just don't see how his anger and rashness can keep going on, it got Nasrin killed."

He instantly knows how stupid he's being how, childish it all seems, but he's not thinking straight has he ever thought straight. "I'm sorry, Im really sorry." He says looking at both woman's face and at Sapphire, she still reminded him of her it was like when he let them all down again the night he ran away. "This isn't my life, I wasn't meant for grand adventures or special quests. I'm a diplomat's son, just a spoilt child. I ran away because I was addicted to drugs and got the love of my life nearly killed when she would take them with me. My father banished me, the only reason I was there from the start of all this is I needed the money to help me get home." He looks away from them now ashamed.

"I... I'm sorry." He turns slowly reaching into his jacket pocket and just holds on to his flask. As he walks away slowly. "I've embarrassed myself, I'm going back to our room."

"So! Tell me of what's changed in Spurhorn. Apart from your advancement within the clergy, of course. It has been," he hesitates for a moment, searching for the appropriate word, "difficult returning here under these circumstances. It would be nice to share words with one of the few people happy to have me within the walls once more."

Oh nothing much has changed in your absence. Icara replies sadly. The Mandate shrinks all the time in the face of Yrax' armies. Every month there are fewer of us to stand against him and if Spurhorn falls then the enemy knows they will have struck a decisive blow against us.

Whether it is months or years afterward, the Mandate will crumble. Commander Pharamol knows defending this siege is the best and only way he can save his people and it's a responsibility that weighs heavily on him.

About a year ago there was a border skirmish. Pharamol’s troops broke and fled in spite of having superior strength over the enemy, leaving the commander to face a trio of drakes on his own. Amazingly, Pharamol survived and returned to his troops, his face as red as the blood dripping from his many wounds.

The only thing said about the speech he gave after that debacle was that every member of the patrol agreed it would be far better to die in battle than have to ever listen to it again. He may seem cold and uncaring, but nothing means more to him than keeping his people safe. Icara adds.

Then something strange happened several months ago, a wise woman from a peasant village in Spurhorn’s holding came to the aerie with a gift for Commander Pharamol, in thanks for his tireless devotion in defending their lands from the predations of the dragons across the border. The gift was a strange twoheaded eagle, the likes of which Pharamol had never seen before. Not wanting to hurt the old woman’s feelings, Pharamol accepted the bird and has kept it as a pet ever since.

Sapphire's eyes widen slightly as Greyston flat out shrugs off the friendly approach of both women. Glancing across at Lucrezzia she shrugs

There's an old adage about horses and leading them, not that he needs any encouragement to drink...

she sighs.

All we can do is continue to be there for him, we can't stop him destroying himself, only show him that we'll be there to pick up the pieces, and then maybe he'll realise we're all in this together and he's not alone...

She continues down the corridor and decides to try and do the only thing she can to improve Golarion-Triaxian relations by eating and drinking with Zusk.

Shall move this on with a 'plot' post tomorrow :)

After spending a couple of hours inside the library Elleross has learned a little more about their strange hosts and the other races that inhabit this far flung world.
Rubbing at his eyes he pushes away a large scroll and decides enough is enough for one night.
Reading the strange script was tiring and a dull headache was beginning.
What he needed now was a smoke and a glass of wine, if they even had anything resembling wine that was.
Replacing the scroll he makes his way to the common room to join the others.
Making his way into the noisy room he breathes in the strange scents of food and drink and spying his friends he moves through the crowded room and sits down beside them as they make space for him.

I trust everyone is well? he asks with a smile as he fills and lights his pipe. Drawing deep on the smoke he blows out several lazy rings and send them drifting off over the tables as he looks around at Greyston and Corum to see if there is any lingering tension there.
is there any wine? Or something that resembles wine. I could do with a glass or two. he says as he loooks about at their strange surroundings. I have been reading some of our hosts histories and it is hard going deciphering their language. Given a week or so I'm sure I would become fluent enough .

Corrleon nods, "I have heard of this odd bird. It is, in fact, the very thing the strange travelers have come to Spurhorn to acquire. Interesting."

In subsequent days the group falls into something of a routine.

War time, they learn, is all about routine. Their days are spent lending aid either in the training rooms with drills, manning the walls with the other soldiers, ferrying supplies and a hundred other tasks that need to be done in order maintain the order of the fortress.

Pharamol takes the group to meet the two-headed eagle, a magnificent and wholly unique creature that has a entire room in the aerie to itself. Elleros detects no magic on it, but then neither did he on the giant's beard or the plague doctors mask either.

For the most part the days are dull but full and each night you go to rest with aching backs and that nagging feeling of stagnation that comes with not pursuing the curse. The itch is getting stronger, however, and you know that you cannot linger much longer in the fortress and can only hope that the aid you've lent so far is enough to convince Pharamol to part with the bird for the siege shows no signs of breaking.

Each day you look out over the valley to see the gathered hordes of the army below. While tension remains high, there seems to be a fugue on both sides of the wall as each seems resigned to waiting the other out.

War is routine and routine is war.

The fourth night is the coldest since you arrived at Spurhorn. As the distant sun begins to slide down over the horizon, a strong wind whips up and the sky begins to darken with thick, heavy snow clouds.

Sure enough, before the sun has had a chance to set the snow begins to fall and it isn't long before it is a full-blown storm and those who manfully stand watch on the walls need to wrap themselves tightly in cloaks or resort to magical means to ward off the chill.

That evening you settle down to eat in the mess hall with Bescaylie, Efrixes, Zusk and Herjan and around thirty other soldiers who eat quickly and prodigiously before the change of the guard.

Suddenly, carried through a series of clever internal bore-holes into the depths of the fortress, is the shrill sound of a horn.

The mess hall explodes into action as the soldiers all erupt into shouting and a flurry of activity as they grab their gear and start running out of the room. Similar sounds can be heard from the adjoining rooms and corridors and Zusk stands so quickly he sends his mug of ale flying.

With a look of grim determination he says to you all;

We're under attack. Bescaylie and Efrixes get to the walls now! The rest of you with me. We convene in the War Room for orders!

For those of you who do not speak draconic, you do not need a translator to know the gravity of his tone.

If possible j Elleross would have found out a bit about the fortresses magical defences. Do the ice seers prevent teleportation into and out of the castle?
Also I'll post a spell list later.

maybe now is the time we can show our worth, if we can help fend off this attack we may gain favour with the commander he says in common as he rises with the others and follows dusk to the war room.

Teleportation into and out of the fortress is not possible. Attempts are redirected to a gaol very deep below the surface via a Teleportation Trap