Waving Clover over, Barhador says "Bring Aramis over here, and then help me with Elrik." When Clover and Aramis are close enough, the elf repeats his low chant and forces more life energy into Aramis as well. She feels the warm glow of a gentle Spring sun, the rush of a cool stream across her skin, and hears wind rustling leaves as the energy flows into her form . . ..
"Okay, let's get these two across. Arryn? Can you scan the shed and see if there's anything in there we need? Lirosa? Taidel? Give him a hand, please. We need to do this quick, keep moving, and drop this bridge." Stowing his own equipment, the elf gets his hands under Elrik's shoulders, waits for Clover to get the legs, and starts carrying him across the span.
Arryn starts with a search of the hobgoblins, grabbing up the nice crossbow and anything else useful. Then he moves on to the shed.
The two hobgobling that emerged from the shack have little of interest beyond their basic gear, but the apparent leader has several vials, three of which are marked as potions of cure light wounds, one marked as a potion of endure elements, an antiplague, an antitoxin, and three packets of herbs.
They're scent cloaks, which you can rub into your skin to help mask your scent from animals.
In addition, her breastplate and buckler both appear of fine quality, as does her scimitar. In addition, she has an animal harness , a backpack, bedroll, compass, crowbar, manacles, signal whistle, silk rope (50 ft.), small tent, 16 gp and 4 Provision Points.
The shed has a variety of supplies, but most of them seem to have been rifled through and tossed aside. A scroll, however, is tacked to the wall.
Oreld continues to nervously look toward the village.
"Now? Should I set it to explode now? We should do it soon, before more of the hobgoblins come!"
"Let's get everyone else across the bridge first, but right after that, yes, certainly."
Once across the bridge, Oreld finishes setting the device and hustles across to join the watching survivors -- now refugees from once-happy Phaendar.
"OK," he says, "it should explode in abou--"
The rest of his words are cut off in a loud blast, after which the bridge starts to slowly list ... and then topples into the river below.
Several of the refugees give out a ragged cheer at the site, but most seem numb and in shock. 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.
As Barhador turns to lead the group into the dark Fangwood, however, he sees a figure emerge from the woods, a towering half-orc, with bow and greataxe on his back, chest covered with a steel hauberk.
The figure stops short, both at the sound of the collapsing bridge and at the sight of the bloodied people clustered before him. His gaze narrows and flits from the survivors, to the curling trails of smoke and dust of the fallen bridge, then finally to the distant slaughter beyond in Phaendar. After a weighty pause, he looses a stiff, gruff sigh through his nose.
"What's happened here?" His eyes still lingers on the town as he asks the question, but it's plain that his words are directed at the group.
”Phaendar has been overrun with hobgoblins. We’re seeking shelter in the forest before they figure out how to cross the river en masse. Where did you come from?”
Aramis jerks back into consciousness violently, kicking out with her legs as if she expected to still be fighting hobgoblins. Looking up at Barhador, she shakes her head.
"Sorry."
She gets up and steadies herself, then moves to help carry Elrik across the bridge.
As it goes up in flames, Aramis looks grim.
Where are you Orm..? she wonders, hoping against hope that the fiesty little boy she had taken under her wing last year was safe...
And what about the Bonderman's? They couldn't have made it out. Could they?
Phaistea will be heartbroken...
Refusing to let any tears fall for her home, and the people lost in it--not yet--Aramis turns to the survivors.
"We need to put as much space between us and Phaendar as we can. And QUICK."
At the sight of the half-orc Aramis nods. "We can talk on the way, but now we need to MOVE."
Aramis helps the others get going and asks Arryn, "Find anything that will get Elrik back on his feet?"
"Hobgoblins?" The half-orc frowns and works his jaw back and forth a few times before spitting into the dirt at his feet. "Ruined towns should be rarer than this, even in Nirmathas." He frowns again, his forehead wrinkling as he looks over the beleaguered survivors before him. His gaze fixes on Arryn then, as he tries to puzzle through the man's question. "The Hollow Hills. Lost my home, though not to hobgoblins, and was making my way here for some festival to sell some skins to try and start over."
He approaches the group fully then, and it's suddenly apparent that this man is a towering specimen. Broad chested with enormous shoulders and a thick, meaty neck, he'd look to favor his orcish ancestry if it weren't for his straight posture and chiseled jaw. "You all have a destination for yourselves in mind?"
Arryn pours one of the healing potions from the hobgoblin archer down Elrik’s throat.
The man wakes with a cough.
"What happened? Is this Heaven?" he gasps.
”Well, my mother always told me I was her little angel...” Arryn says as he hauls the man to his feet.
Clover finds she can do little to help with injuries at the moment, but she tries to do what she can. She is pale and quiet, seemingly in shock.
The half-orc works his jaw back and forth again before sighing sharply through his nose once more. His shoulders droop for a moment as he looks back over the now ruined bridge and he shakes his head ruefully.
As he turns back to the group, his shoulders are squared and he nods once, like he's come to some sort of decision internally. "The lady there is right. Looks like you folk should keep on the move. I'll help you get to where ever you're going." He looks over the group, assessing whether anyone looks like they may have trouble walking and seems intent on helping anyone who needs it if he can.
You begin marching into the forest, but you can't get too far as the townsfolk have only a few hours of energy left in them after the long day, and once you're away from the glow of burning Phaendar, visibility so late at night is near zero for the largely human group.
You wake in the morning, a cold dew covering you and surrounded by scared people. Despite what everyone may have wished, it's clear last night wasn't just a nightmare. Phaendar may as well be gone now and you need to figure out a way to keep everyone alive.
Arryn takes stock of their provisions and checks people for injuries.
He gathers the gang (of PCs) together, plus Elrik (since they don’t know he isn’t a PC anymore).
”The way I see it, we have provisions for two days. We aren’t taking Phaendar back in two days, so we need a survival plan. We need to separate out everybody who can hunt and forage, maybe Barhador can take charge of them. We also have to figure out where we’re going. Suggestions?”
First thing in the morning Aramis pulls a pack of six rhubarb muffins out of her backpack. They're crumbled, and breaking, but it doesn't really matter. She breaks each muffin into thirds and hands it out to the group. "These were a gift for..." Suddenly falling silent, Aramis looks a little guilty for bringing it up. "They're for us. Here."
She eats her rhubarb muffin in silence, savouring every bite.
Who knows when I'll have another muffin...
---
After ensuring everyone get some more food and water, Aramis spends a bit of time with Phaistea, her best friend. She pulls something out of her backpack and gives it to here. It's a purple scarf.
"Here. I got this for you as a gift at the festival." With a gentle smile she adds, "I guess it will get more use than I expected it would, hey?" She chuckles at her attempt to lighten the mood.
After a few moments she remarks, "Your boyfriend's got a better head on his shoulders than I gave him credit for. He's not a complete idiot," she jokes. "Only half. Maybe three-quarters."
Before moving on Aramis gives Phaistea a hug. In her ear she whispers, "We'll get through this." After another moment she hears Arryn call for her, so she pulls away.
---
Aramis follows Arryn off to the side.
"Agreed. We need to make a longterm plan." With a look at Barhador, she confirms, "You can organize the hunters?"
Looking back at Arryn she remarks, "I don't know anywhere, sorry. Travelling's not my forte."
She falls silent for a moment, lost in thought. "Wherever we go, it needs to be far afield. We're not nearly far enough away from them to be safe..."
Once the impromptu meeting has gotten underway . . .. "Several of us are still badly injured from yesterday." He presses his right hand flat over one of his own wounds as he speaks. "If we could get Aubrin to provide more channeled healing, we will be better set to start travelling. Healthy travelers just move more easily and further."
He looks uncomfortable. "I remember a good glade we could travel to to form a base camp, but we won't get there today. That's actually one of the reasons it could serve our purpose. Our hunters will need to seek food as we go. I can't hunt and lead the group to that glade at the same time. One requires I roam and the other requires I stay with everyone."
"Lirosa and Taidel have been doing an awful lot for the group so far, but they are trained hunters. As long as they are confident they can follow us generally East, we should let them roam and hunt. I don't know if anyone else can forage as we travel, but if they can, it would be very helpful. It is time to start finding out how the rest can contribute. Everyone will have to."
"I have sheep, three of them..at home." Clover still seems a little dazed.
"It's a little more than half a day north of here. The farm isn't in the forest though, it's on the edge. It might be dangerous to go there I suppose."
"I can't hunt, I don't know how. Maybe gathering some food, I know plants. I can heal with magic again now that I've rested some..."
Aramis nods along with Clover. "Yeah, I'm good with animals, and am a decent farmer, but not scavenging or hunting. I'll need to learn, I suppose..."
Looking at Barhador, Aramis remarks, "Lirosa and Taidel do seem capable. We'll have to ask them, but I'm sure they'll be able to help find food as we travel."
In the morning, you begin making your plans.
The half-orc joins the discussion, knocking some soggy debris from a stump and propping one foot up on so he can lean forward and cross his arms over his knee.
"Foraging as we go is a fine idea, but what's your end game? Do you mean to shepherd these people through the Fangwood as a nomadic tribe now or is the goal to get them to a community where they can resettle and start over?" He shifts his gaze across the group, his eyes lingering on each person in turn for a few moments as he seems to take their measure now that they're no longer under threat of imminent hobgoblin attack. "Answering that question first may steer you down a course of action here. If the former, head for the deeper wilds or perhaps your glade," he gestures toward Bahador at this, "otherwise maybe make for the nearest logging camp or village that's on the way to a larger town."
”Our long term goal is retaking Phaendar, rescuing our fellow villagers and butchering every single hobgoblin we can find. The short term goal is preparing these people for surviving the winter and doing what we can to slow or halt the hobbies’ progress through Nirmathas. We need to get word to the military...if they’d even believe us that this happened.”
"You know where the Forest Marshall's at?" Dregg works his jaw again, his tone marking the question as rhetorical. "I don't, but if you're wanting to try and mobilize the army, I'd guess Tamran'd be a good place to start."
"Well, we could head to Gristledown, but if they hit Pheander, they'll be hitting Gristledown. I think the best place to establish a quick base is an old homestead that will probably take us 3 days to reach. There are a significant number of outlying farms, and some people I know who we didn't spot in town who might still be at home. Checking on them would provide an opportunity to do things like collect your sheep, but . . .. Keeping this crowd that close, and gathering livestock like that is going to make the group easy to find."
”That homestead would be shelter in the short term. With this many people, we could easily take down enough trees to build a palisade. Sounds like a good option to me, and chances are good the hobbies won’t know about it. They’ll be expecting one us to head to a town. I fear that since they’ve hit Phaendar, they’ve already taken Gristledown. They must have come underground through that stone tower. Obviously there’s some powerful magic at work here. Did that earth creature make it with us? It might know something about the tower.”
”We should spend today staying put, foraging for food, and sending out scouting parties to look for other survivors who made it into this forest. We could also sneak back to the river and try to get a visual of Phaendar in the daylight, get an idea of just how many hobbies we’re dealing with. Then tomorrow, unless a better option has presented itself, we make for the homestead.”
"Stay here and the hobgoblins will kill everyone tonight. There's a deserted orchard nearby where there could be some fruit available ti improve the food stores, and a swampy pit East of here where we could hide everyone, but it overflows with biting insects. Not a place anyone will willingly stay for long. Bug bites are better than slit throats every day of the week, though."
He takes a moment and looks Arryn in the eyes, trying to guess . . ..
"There's no point in keeping these people where the hobgoblins will find and kill them. Keeping the people protected is why armies exist. We're not much of an army. Far too little to protect these people and take a fight to the hobgoblins. Keeping them alive, building real hope, is more important than revenge. There's a reason animals give up territory when they lose a challenge. Live another day first. Always plan to live."
Clover leaves the very important deciding of things to the big folk. She doesn't have any bright ideas about what they should all do.
While they hash things out, Clover checks on the people with them. She takes care of any injuries as best she can. Mostly that means spending time with Aubrin and Elrik, who are hurt the worst, and are going to be slowest to recover.
She also asks a couple of the more clover looking people and Jet, since she knows how to run a kitchen, to organize their food and other stores so they are distributed well for everyone to carry. Clover suspects they will be moving on very soon.
”A deserted orchard sounds great, but I don’t believe the danger to be as great as you fear. The hobbies will have to consolidate their power, and with the bridge down, will take some time to be able to move a large group after us. With all the people they have in Phaendar, a few escaped villagers aren’t worth the bother. They’ll send over a few scouting parties today, and a work crew to begin building a new bridge, probably a rope and plank affair. Certainly nothing we can’t handle today. A big group hunkered down will leave less trace for scouts to find than a big group on the move. That being said, the orchard sounds like a great idea. We’ll probably be able to find enough food there quickly that we’d only have to spend half a day foraging and spend the other half heading to the homestead. Does that sound like an acceptable compromise?”
”Tomorrow, though, we have to be gone, or we’re done. If there are any survivors left here, we need to find them today. Any villagers who made it to the trees would have. Even panicked and floundering in the dark. Think you could find trails like that?”
"Phaendar is lost, Arryn. We're not getting it back." Aramis cuts in with a shake of her head. "And we're not an army, we're refugees. Our concern shouldn't be killing the hobgoblins and getting back our homes. It should be bringing these people somewhere safe, and informing the military so they can wage a war that has a chance of success."
"Haste is imperative. Not just for us, but for the people of Gristledown. We need to warn them about what's happened here, and we need to do it fast. This can't happen again." After a moment of thought, she sighs. "But, we do need to check for survivors. Some others might have made it out alive."
"I think we should send out some people to go hunting and some others to look around for survivors in the morning. But after lunch we need to head for Gristledown."
Looking to Barhador, Aramis asks, "Which way is the orchard? We should stop there on the way to Gristledown, if we can."
With a deep frown, she adds, "If things don't go well in Gristledown, we can head to the homestead and check out the farms along the way."
The half-orc narrows his eyes at mention of a stone tower, but doesn't interrupt, allowing the conversation to wend its way back and forth between the elf and the human before the half-elf cuts in. A half grin twitches at the edge of his lips and he nods in approval. "Well said. Sounds like Gristledown it is then. Before that though, 'Angel' here mentioned a tower of stone? What tower?" He grins briefly at his own joke, pleased with his nickname for Arryn. So pleased, in fact, that he'll likely still use it even if he should ever learn the human's actual name.
Arryn looks extremely confused and exasperated, and slightly angry.
"Am I speaking some strange language you two don't understand? You keep putting words in my mouth. I never once said anything about revenge or this little group retaking Phaendar. He asked what the longterm goal is. Of course it's to drive the hobbies out of Phaendar, but then I said we need to contact the army. Our short-term goal is survival, which I also said, and slowing down the hobbies. They are going to send out patrols and scouting groups, which we need to kill when we find them. We can also get a look at Phaendar from across the river to see if they are building some sort of bridge, and to find out if we're dealing with hundreds of hobgoblins or thousands."
"I think Gristledown's already lost, you think there's time, so we can disagree there, and if the majority want to take the chance that we can still save them, then I'm all for it. I said we need to stay here and gather enough supplies to make the journey to the homestead because a group that runs out of food dies just as easily as a group attacked by hobgoblins, and if we're faint from hunger, we won't be able to defend the group when we are attacked. Trust me, we should have a few hours to gather supplies before the hobbies can come over the river in force enough to threaten our group. You say there's an abandoned orchard, which sounds like a great place to go first."
"Disagree with me if you want to about strategy and military tactics, but stop making me out to have said things I never said."
After she's finished checking on the condition of the survivors, Clover finds the big ones still bickering over what to do.
She figures, since they are all waiting for them to decide something, she might as well check around for foods to gather nearby. She asks around among the survivors to see if anyone knows anything about edible plants, and takes anyone who's willing and able to gather.
The half-orc shrugs, "Huh. You have to admit, though, 'butchering every single hobgoblin we can find' does have something of a vengeful sound, don't you think?"
”Sorry if having my home destroyed leaves me a little bitter-sounding.”
Aramis crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at Arryn. At Fulgun's remark, she cracks a smile.
"Whether you remember or mean the the things you say isn't our problem now."
"Arguments aside, we might as well get started on what we do agree on. We need to look for survivors and scrounge up some food. Then we can head to the orchard. From there we can bring the issue before everyone. Gristledown and then onto the homestead, or straight to the homestead."
After a moment, Aramis admits, "We may need to split up if some refuse to head to Gristledown. I can't chance leaving an entire town to be slaughtered. I won't."
How far are they from the river and Phaendar? While some groups search for survivors, would one group have time to sneak back and gather intel on the enemy? Survivors are likely to be closer to the river anyway.
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The half-orc shakes his head, his baritone shifting to an encouraging tone, "They won't refuse. Each one of those folks is still alive because of you from the sounds of it. They'll go where you go." He shrugs, "If they don't see the wisdom in traveling with the demonstrably strong and capable, then there's not much you can do for them regardless."
As the talk turns to possibly splitting up and alerting Gristledown, Clover happens within earshot with some mushrooms clutched in her hands.
She walks over to the others.
"If I may, I would like to make a suggestion. If we all go to Gristledown it will be slower traveling. Barhador and I could go to there while the rest of you look for that farmhouse. I can keep up with him, and I can be very quiet."
"We will go to Gristledown with all speed and warn them if it's not too late. After that I can collect my sheep if they're still there. I have other things at my house that could be useful too. A bit of stored food, honey, some medicines, blankets, cookware, baskets, and sacks". I can pack those onto the sheep, they won't mind carrying it."
"Coming back will be slower but it won't matter if we decide where to meet beforehand. Barhador can do some hunting while I lead the sheep. Maybe Lirosa and Taidel could also come with us and hunt also. We will rejoin you tomorrow."
That could work. Fulgun and Arryn scouting Phaendar, Barhador, Aramis, and Clover going to Gristledown, with plans to meet at the apple orchard while Elrik supervises foraging at the orchard and then takes them towards the homestead. We’d be able to follow their trail, perhaps muss it up for hobbies that follow, and catch up well before they get there.
Aramis nods. "Yeah, that could work, Clover. But, Taidel and Lirosa should stay with the refugees and Elrik. They'll need the extra protection. I'll come with you, instead."
Phaistea smiles at first, but playfully smacks Aramis as the elven woman brings up Arryn.
"He's not my boyfriend. Yes, he's cute, but ... there's something strange about him. You know! He used to come into the inn every day, order ale ... and never drink it! And after all this ..."
She gestures toward Phaendar and barely prevents herself from sobbing. She wipes her eyes as Aramis finishes hugging her and shrugs.
"I'll be OK. I hope you're right. We all will."
---
You gather in the morning, after a night that both seemed far too short to let you rest and endless at the same time, to make plans.
Elrik seems to stare off, back toward Phaendar, where you can still see glimpses of smoke rising through the trees. He's quiet, clearly shaken, and seems to startle when he hears his name. After helping lead the initial escape, his near-death at the bridge seems to have changed him. Still, he agrees that he'll start shepherding the other refugees toward the orchard when the rest of you make your way back to the village and to Gristledown.
Jet agrees that she can look after the stores and, with Phaistea's help, likely stretch them a little longer. However, before you leave, she returns with a grim face.
"With the amount of food we have, we're going to run out tomorrow, and it doesn't help that Farrow is asking for extra!"
---
Fulgun and Arryn depart shortly after breakfast, carefully making their way back toward town. The smoke seems to be clearing -- clearly the town hasn't simply been burned to the ground -- but even from afar they see signs of occupation. The hobgoblins appear to be there to stay.
As they look around, they spot a body lying in a creek bed.
---
Clover, Barhador and Aramis veer off to the north, hoping to make their way to Gristledown. As they travel, Barhador and Clover suddenly hear something, however!
High-pitched yips and thin, growling laughter come from about 20 feet off to their left.
As the plans are settled, the half-orc works his jaw back and forth a few times before nodding, "Good. Having a plan and a goal is important. Wandering aimlessly in the Fangwood with nothing to focus on but their loss would doom these people. Giving them a goal, a destination, as well as tasks will go far in seeing that they survive." He pushes off his knee at this, rising back to his full height. He brushes a bit of dirt from his forearm with the back of one hand and then adds, "I'm Dregg, by the way. And I'd like to keep helping, if I can."
Dregg bumps Arryn in the shoulder softly with his large, balled fist then stretches his arm out to point toward the shape in the creek. "Look, there. That look like a body to you?" His voice is low, but that seems to be the only success he has in trying to be especially quiet. A branch breaks, rather sharply, as he shifts to draw his companion's attention to the water. The towering half-orc, hunched low on one knee, simply turns his head and frowns at the offending tree.
Assuming the body looks clearly dead, Arryn nods and continues watching the area closely before moving to see who it is.
Of course, if it looks like the person may still be alive and drowning, he dispenses with caution.
---
"I'm Dregg, by the way. And I'd like to keep helping, if I can."
"We're happy to have you, Dregg. I'm Aramis."
She sticks out her hand for a hand shake.
---
Off in the woods, Aramis is utterly oblivious to the approaching danger...
Arryn watches as Phaistea and Aramis chat quietly, both of them stealing glances at him in that way women have which signals far and wide, “We’re talking about you—back off!” Once Aramis moves to prepare her departure, Arryn slowly makes his way over and gives her a few wild flowers he was able to pick.
”I guess we’re heading out soon. I just wanted to say...I just mean that...I don’t really know. I just...” He gives up trying to say anything and settles for giving her a hug and holding her tight.
”When I get back and we’re more settled somewhere, and the immediate danger is gone, maybe we can talk?”
"Glad to meet you, Dregg. I'm Barhador. I'm far more comfortable out here in the forest than I ever was in Phaender. I'm hoping that will help everyone else." At this point, he looks like a pretty normal elf. It doesn't take long to notice that he casually alters himself to resemble various animals for basically every task he undertakes, returning to look like a normal elf when not focused on one task or another.
----------------
In elvish. "Lirosa. Taidel. The group's not got much food. Elrik's going to lead you to an old fruit grove I know about. There should be something there to help stretch the current supplies, but not enough and not for long. Please, pull volunteers to help you forage. It doesn't matter how fast you get to the orchard if everyone's going to go hungry under the trees. Arryn's got it in his head that he can do something about the hobgoblins. While he's learning otherwise, a few of us are going to run up to Gristledown to warn them, if it isn't already too late. Then we'll come back to the grove and try to help everyone move on . . .. Does most of that make sense to you? We shouldn't be gone too long. Don't be in the grove after a week. Go South. These village folk will want to find a new home. That will probably lie across the river to the South."
-------------------
As there are a few moments somewhere during the rest, Barhador manages to work his way back to Mithrielye. He sits down next to her, and looks her in the eyes, obviously looking for something in them before he speaks in Elvish. "How are you holding up?" He looks around at the others in the area. "This hasn't been easy on anyone. I don't think it is going to get any easier any time soon. Is there anything you need that I can help with?" He waits for a reply.
"Aubrin should be able to help keep everybody going, but she's going to need someone to help her keep going. Do you think you can do that? Give her the help she needs to be able to inspire the rest? That could really help everybody stay positive and get this to feel easier."
---------------------
The elf holds his flat right hand out, pointing generally towards the others with his fingertips higher than his wrist, then he take the same hand and points at the sound before raising the finger to his lips. Only then does he turn in the direction of the noise and attempt to sneak up for a closer look, his face still covered in feathers, with big eyes and a beak-like nose.