"With the Inheritor on our side, we will triumph, but it will take sacrifice and hard work. As it says in The Acts, Iomedae helps those who are willing to sacrifice in her name and the name of good. I have already made that pledge to give my all to help protect the people of the Vale. I shall stand, and if necessary, fall to help deliver you all from the horror of the Red Hand and Tiamat. And no, she is not a myth!"
Thom listens and watches knowing it is better to hold his tongue.
"We did kill a dragon with our own hands. Through Kurgess' blessing, he gave me two invaluable allies in the fight; Zelligar and his magical flight and Tal'ariel with her spell that increased my frame." He doesn't really know to begin, "Basically I flew up to the dragon, grabbed him by the neck as he was flying and dragged us both down to the ground itself. I managed to land on it to cushion the blow and with that gained the upper hand once we were on ground. What happened after was a blur as I don't know how close to death's door I was, but once the adrenaline ran out I saw Zelligar next to me hurrying me up and a dragon with a snapped neck." He feels they won't believe him so he moves to the floor, uncouthly grabs the head and pretends to wrestle it. "It really wasn't anything special, I just knew what to do." Because you've nearly strangled the life out of how many other combatants in your younger days?
He puts the head back in the sack and stands up slowly and pensively "And I will do it again and again until none of those sinister lizards remain." Because that's what heroes do.
"With them working on old maps it may buy us more time, but we cannot squander it. Perhaps we should use that extra time to fortify Brindol then. You can rely on us to remove another dragon, I swear on the Strongman's Own Burden." He puts his fist to the heart and looks deadly serious, "And frankly I'm too straightforward to be in a lying game."
"Regardless we need to do something while we figure out this map and what the lizards have to do, a saarvith is and the importance of the Ghostlord. I'm no loreseeker, so I don't feel I'm much assistance here."
The Ghostlord is a local legend.
Back when the city of Rhest was the capital of a mighty kingdom, a tribe of nomads dwelt in the kingdom's southern plains. Among these was a druid, who taught the tribes to live among the lions and honor them as a totem animal. The nomads built a massive lion of stone in honor of this great druid.
One day, nobles from Rhest visited the tribe. The nomads welcomed the visitors and offered their hospitality. While all seemed well at first, two of the nobles killed a lion patriarch for his claws and pelt. The nomads killed every one of their visitors in revenge; a breach of hospitality that the gods themselves answered. The chieftain who had ordered the execution of the guests was struck down by a shadowy archer with, it is told, the horns of an elk.
Yet this was not enough for Rhest. They sent their army south, and attacked the nomads. The lions of the plains came to their aid, but tribes and lions alike were slaughtered by the cavalry of Rhest. The warriors confronted and slew the druid between the paws of his great stone lion temple.
The cycle of vengeance was not yet complete. The night after the warriors returned to Rhest, doom fell upon the city. Ghostly lions prowled the streets, stalking and killing any who crossed their paths. When the dawn came, the entirety of Rhest's cavalry was dead. Knights, families, servants, squires, and horses.
The surviving residents of the city tried to rebuild, but Rhest never regained its former glory, and the kingdom declined and collapsed. The ruined city now sits in a swamp to the north. The nomads' plains are now the Thornwaste, to the south.
Of course, this is all legend. Seltazar isn't aware of any factual basis for it (History checks from anybody else?). Nobody living has ever seen this stone lion temple, if it ever existed.
Shishka once heard tell of a book, The Account of Bavick Whiteriver, by a dwarf who had spent time among the nomads. It apparently presents a very different account of the Ghostlord story and has numerous pieces of corroborating evidence. There is likely some historical truth to the Ghostlord myth, but the story has been distorted.
A druid that could command ghostly lions would be strange indeed, but there are those even among druids who meddle in the spirit world. To most druids, this is blasphemy.
Speaker Wiston addresses you. "We will need to find our absent member and confer. I will send for you tomorrow. Take care of any errands you need this evening. Tal'ariel, I know you wanted to see Sertieren. Perhaps you can help him and Zelligar decipher the code."
"The rest of you, perhaps you may wish to find supplies, or offer prayers, or just rest."
The tall elf gives Bran a flat look. "You wrestled... a dragon... to death." With a shake of his head, the elf adds, almost to himself, "You are either clinically insane... or entirely more than you appear. Perhaps both. I suppose we shall see."
With a sigh, Seltazar shakes his head again with a frown. "I don't suppose you could be convinced to attempt an alternate strategy? ...I thought not. I have some minor magics at my disposal. I shall employ them to assist if I am able. At least if I am to die in this... place... I shall get to witness something truly unique in the process."
Seltazar offers a grim smile that doesn't make him seem any friendlier.
The large man stretches, arms held over his head, and let's out a loud yawn that echoes off the walls. Realizing he has no skill with cypher the Druid announced, "I'll pass and get some rest, civilization tires me." Thom retires fro the evening.
One day, nobles from Rhest visited the tribe. The nomads welcomed the visitors and offered their hospitality. While all seemed well at first, two of the nobles killed a lion patriarch for his claws and pelt. The nomads killed every one of their visitors in revenge; a breach of hospitality that the gods themselves answered. The chieftain who had ordered the execution of the guests was struck down by a shadowy archer with, it is told, the horns of an elk.
"Hm . . . if there is truth to be found in this tale, then perhaps Erastil or one of his priests was involved? Has anyone ever asked Brother Derny about this? Perhaps I will go do that myself, later. But first, I want to find Sertieren."
Once she finds the wizard, she makes an introduction. "A pleasure to meet you. This is quite an impressive tower you have here! Do you think I can help you decipher the documents? I'm mostly self-taught in terms of magics, but I learned quite a bit about languages from my elven schooling."
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"Tal'ariel, good to see you. I have your Pearl of Power," the wizard replies. He is a middle-aged halfling, and you can tell by his library and the various wards that he is an abjurer.
Tal'ariel tries to decipher the code, but is unable to.
The two halflings have been working at this for a while:
Together, they are able to crack the code! With a few key pieces known, they can work late into the evening with Tal'ariel on Koth's notes to decipher a great deal of information.
- The Red Hand horde includes several thousand warriors, under the command of fanatical priests of Tiamat. These include dozens of tribes of hobgoblins, goblins, bugbears, and ogres from the Wyrmsmoke Mountains.
- There are (or were) four Wyrmlord commanders: Koth, a goblin ranger named Saarvith (Koth despises him for being a goblin), a hobgoblin named Ulwai Stormcaller (Koth despises her for being an 'elfy music-mage'), and a hobgoblin named Kharn who is apparently a 'Talon of Tiamat' (Koth fears him).
- Saarvith is in the ruined city of Rhest on a special mission of some sort.
- Koth doesn't know what Ulwai is up to or where she is.
- Kharn commands the main horde itself and is (or was) at Cinder Hill. The horde was supposed to wait for Koth or Ozzyrandion to check in with an 'all clear', but wouldn't wait forever. They are likely on the march.
- Over all of these is the High Wyrmlord, a fearsome draconic hobgoblin named Azarr Kul, a powerful cleric of Tiamat. He dwells in a massive temple somewhere in the heart of the Wyrmsmokes.
- There are several dragons - Koth isn't quite sure how many, having only had contact with Ozzyrandion.
- Skull Gorge Bridge is a strategic crossing for the Red Hand. Your destruction of it will slow them down by several days.
- Koth was supposed to lead the attack on Drellin's Ferry - a relatively minor skirmish for him to try to prove his prowess - but other champions and commanders had been clamoring for the chance. The attack will still take place now that he is dead, but with another commander.
Bran waves good evening to the war council and starts to head outside into the town. "I'm going to go for a jog sort through this whole mess." Before he gets any responses he runs off taking some time to himself with the cold air and solid ground beneath him.
Eventually he looks at the sword at his side and remembers the amount of bloodshed he had been forced to do in the past with such a weapon. I told myself I wouldn't take one up again, a tool made for just killing; yet here I am. If only my will was as strong as my body. What seems to be a miracle to lift his spirits, the man sees an ax in a stump and gets a smile across his face. Maybe I can get this sword turned into a new tool, at least it may stave off the bloody memories.
He runs off in search of a lit fire and the clanking of a smith.
It isn't too long of a run before Bran comes across Morlin's Smithy.
Morlin Coalhewer is hard at work on a heavy shield. He is fairly short even for a dwarf, with a long beard that seems older than the rest of him. A holy symbol of Torag hangs around his neck.
"Bran O'Dimm. You arrived a few days ago, weren't you? Came into town with a prisoner in tow? Heard you went off after the hobgoblins. What can I do for you?"
He listens to Bran's request, and seems to pick up on the fact that Bran is uncomfortable with the longsword.
"Yes, I understand. There's a reason we dwarves like hammers, axes, and picks; they remind us that we are builders first and warriors second. Torag teaches that it is better to create than to destroy, although sometimes the latter can't be avoided.
I would use different steel for a greataxe, so directly reforging this probably isn't the way to go. Tell you what; I'll take this sword in trade, give you an axe, and make the sword into kitchen knives when the fighting is done. I'll etch a mark into it here saying as much."
Delora, from the Town Council, comes up to the smithy in a few minutes. "Morlin, give this man whatever he needs. Make it a priority. He would have been a credit to the Golden Drakes in our prime."
"No worries, milady. I have such an axe right here."
This axe is about 5' long, with a large single-bitted blade. It is fairly simple and utilitarian in its appearance, though extremely well balanced. When Bran examines it more closely, he can see masterful engraving all over the surface. Morlin's craftsmanship is subtle, not ostentatious, and only visible to those who care enough to look.
Bran nods at the dwarf's wise words, "You put it better than I could really. I would like to avoid it if possible but reality is never so easy." Upon hearing that he will turn them into knives he smiles, "Or horseshoes even! Thank you Master Morlin, I don't know what has come over me but I feel the last few days have just changed everything."
Bran turns to see Delora coming in a few minutes later an just listens to them until Morlin comes back with a masterful ax, "This is amazing work." He spins the haft and checks the balance, "Its so well balanced I could even swing with this buckler on and suffer no ill effects."[b] The man takes a step back, grabs it in two hands and shoulders it, [b]"With work like this, I know that the Ferry's forces are in good hands."
He gives the smith a bow and a shake, "Until we meet again. I may even buy some of those knives for our feast when we return!" He clasps the gold in the dwarf's hands, "And we will return!"
Together, they are able to crack the code! With a few key pieces known, they can work late into the evening with Tal'ariel on Koth's notes to decipher a great deal of information.
- The Red Hand horde includes several thousand warriors, under the command of fanatical priests of Tiamat. These include dozens of tribes of hobgoblins, goblins, bugbears, and ogres from the Wyrmsmoke Mountains.
- There are (or were) four Wyrmlord commanders: Koth, a goblin ranger named Saarvith (Koth despises him for being a goblin), a hobgoblin named Ulwai Stormcaller (Koth despises her for being an 'elfy music-mage'), and a hobgoblin named Kharn who is apparently a 'Talon of Tiamat' (Koth fears him).
- Saarvith is in the ruined city of Rhest on a special mission of some sort.
- Koth doesn't know what Ulwai is up to or where she is.
- Kharn commands the main horde itself and is (or was) at Cinder Hill. The horde was supposed to wait for Koth or Ozzyrandion to check in with an 'all clear', but wouldn't wait forever. They are likely on the march.
- Over all of these is the High Wyrmlord, a fearsome draconic hobgoblin named Azarr Kul, a powerful cleric of Tiamat. He dwells in a massive temple somewhere in the heart of the Wyrmsmokes.
- There are several dragons - Koth isn't quite sure how many, having only had contact with Ozzyrandion.
- Skull Gorge Bridge is a strategic crossing for the Red Hand. Your destruction of it will slow them down by several days.
- Koth was supposed to lead the attack on Drellin's Ferry - a relatively minor skirmish for him to try to prove his prowess - but other champions and commanders had been clamoring for the chance. The attack will still take place now that he is dead, but with another commander.
"It seems that the threats against us keep multiplying. At least three more commanders, a priest of Tiamat, and some unknown number of dragons. The situation is perilous!"
Tal'ariel confers further with Sertieren and Zelligar once they are done. "Will you teach me some further magics? Among my people, they did not deign to teach a lowborn elf like myself the mysteries of the arcane, but I've learned a lot since leaving on my own."
Sertieren replies, "I will gladly teach you what I can in the short time we have. You seem quite accomplished for a self-taught wizard!
As to the dragons, even a mere sorcerer like Koth could figure out that there were probably five, but he wasn't certain of that, nor their types and size."
Zelligar chimes in, "You would think a cult of Tiamat would want one each of white, black, blue, green, and red, but it's quite hard to get different chromatics to work together. And you'd be hard pressed to find a white dragon in this climate, but maybe high up in the mountains?
If we are lucky, some of their five 'dragons' are not true dragons at all but just dragon-men like this Azarr Kul and we have fewer actual dragons to deal with."
The main temple in town is to Erastil. Brother Derny greets you.
"My word, an Aasimar! We don't see your kind often in the Vale. Has our hobgoblin problem drawn the attention of the heavens? Tell me, are you from a long lineage of Aasimars, or an old bloodline long dormant just re-awakened, or of recent parentage? Or perhaps you were just sent from Elysium to aid us? Are you what they call archon-kin?
You know, there was once a tielfing in the village. That was about fifteen years ago. Orphaned. I took her in, put her to work, she stole from us, I gave her another chance to straighten out, you know how it goes. She might be okay these days. Had the hardest time learning to trust anybody."
He rambles in with this story and then other observations about tieflings and aasimar for a few minutes.
"We don't have a temple to Iomedae here. There's one in Brindol. But there's a shrine, of sorts. The grave of Sir Pandrus Teeg, Knight of the Sword. Cavalier. He saved us from an ogre invasion over a century ago. The militia had broken and was fleeing, but he charged right at the chieftain and struck him down. Rallied the troops. He didn't survive the battle, but the people made sure he had a monument fit for a king. I tend it myself now and then, cleaning moss off the sword-and-sunburst."
Mikail: The grave of Sir Pandrus Teeg is a fine site to offer prayers to Iomedae. While crusaders tend to be drawn to larger cities, or places like Mendev or Lastwall, passing knights and the few local Iomedae followers do stop here to pay homage to this small-town hero and his goddess.
The monument is a gigantic granite longsword, pointed downwards, with the sunburst at the hilt. Next to it is a smaller but still finely made marker to 'Stalwart', the cavalier's steed, who actually survived the battle and lived another ten years.
Bran: Morlin refuses your money. "Delora said to give you whatever you need, so that's what I'll do. You must have impressed her somehow, and that's not easy to do. Perhaps when this is all over you can tell me how."
Tal'ariel: Sertieren is likewise generous with you. You can copy spells from his spellbook and he'll provide the materials. There probably isn't time tonight - it's already about 10 pm and you need your rest to prepare new spells tomorrow - but he invites you to come back. He knows all Core Abjuration and Divination spells of levels 1 and 2, plus many Transmutation and a smattering of others (including some rarer [non-Core] spells). He has very few from Enchantment or Necromancy, however. Ask me about anything and I'll roll to see if he has it.
"Sure thing." He takes the money back and pockets it, "In the morning I'll get some magical stock to make good on this promise. Have a good evening."
Bran heads off for the night, getting a good night's rest for the exploits ahead.
Tal'ariel ponders the wealth of information they have. "Do you have any thought on what we should do next? What will the townspeople do? There is time to prepare to flee. Or fight using guerilla tactics. Perhaps lay some traps across the river crossing and find other ways to slow their advance. But a head-on confrontation seems out of the question."
Mikail smiles at the man as he is overcome with so many questions about her.
"I was dispatched from the home of my mistress, Idomae to come to this place and aid you against the coming horrors. I am not of a specific group of Aasimar, but I do know the different heritages, though as I said I belong to none of them. It is sad that your tiefling friend was not able to overcome his demonic heritage...so do, but many simply fall into their role. It is very sad."
On hearing about the shrine and the brave hero it was built to commemorate, Mikail perks up again.
"I should be honored to see this shrine and to pray to my goddess at the resting place of such a hero. Please lead the way!"
Brother Derny thinks about how to protect the shrine.
"We are blessed indeed to have your assistance! I thank you for coming.
A Glyph of Warding might do some good. It's very expensive, but I may be able to find the components to do one or two - hopefully after one goes off that would deter any future attempts to disturb the grave. Sertieren may have the components for a Snake Sigil trap, but that is even more expensive and I imagine he'd want to ward his tower.
Or, we could bring Sir Pandrus's remains with us."
He thinks some more.
"I can't bring the remains of every notable of Drellin's Ferry. My predecessors, or past Speakers, or family patriarchs and matriarchs. I do worry about what the goblins will do to the cemetery. Perhaps with Sertieren's help I can trick them into leaving the remains alone -- illusions, Magic Mouth spells, and the like. But I fear it may not work if the goblins have priests of their own."
He is somewhat distraught at this.
"Their souls have gone to the realms of Erastil or their other gods. It saddens me that their bodies may be disturbed, but I know we cannot stay here to protect them."
Sertieren has some thoughts in response to Tal'ariel's question.
"I would not want to flee, but I will if I have to. The Town Council will make its decision shortly. The difficulty with hit-and-run tactics is that nothing is faster than a flying dragon. And worgs and hellhounds are quite fast as well. So they could pursue you. I think fortifying Brindol is the best option, but I do wonder about what this Wyrmlord might be up to in the ruins of Rhest. Searching for some old magic?"
Shortly before noon, Speaker Wiston sends for you all, including Thom and Seltazar. It is the same members of the Town Council as before, with the addition of a tall scowling man with a halo of tangled white hair. This is Iormel, a wealthy landowner who has been on the Council for decades.
Speaker Wiston begins. "I understand from these sketches in Shishka's notebook that you destroyed Skull Gorge Bridge."
"Did you have to do that? We'll need that bridge rebuilt when this is all over."
Delora Zann points out bluntly, "It will slow down the horde and buy us time. It was the right call."
Wiston nods, then continues."Perhaps so. But is it possible that destroying the bridge changed their plan enough that they won't even come this way? That they'll hit Talar instead, or go straight for Brindol? I don't want to evacuate unless we are sure they are coming here."
The scowling man speaks up. "Who says we're evacuating, Wiston? That's why we pay a town guard, isn't it? What's the matter, Soranna, lost your nerve? Don't want to stand up to this rabble of savages?"
Soranna ignores the taunt, aside from a subtle rolling of the eyes. Before any of you can react to Iormel's rudeness, the halfling Kellin Shadowbanks steps in. He seems used to playing peacemaker here. "Of course you are right, Iormel, no decision has been made. Your advice and your vote will be valued as always. But we could use more information before deciding."
Iormel snorts, "Hmmph. Information? We taking these vagrants' word? They probably want us out so they can loot the town themselves."
Kellin points out, "Iormel, the armor that Bran is wearing is worth more than all of your land. Mithral. He doesn't need a warehouse full of wool bales."
Wiston asks, "What do you think?"
"We did destroy the bridge, but it was the right choice." Bran shrugs off the comment about the armor and wool bales, "Hobgoblins and armies can't just change plans so quickly, especially when they as regimented as they are. I do believe we did delay them, but how much we can't tell for now."
He thinks about the Red Hand and their plan, "We still need to move. Whatever they are razing things for, we can't afford to lose lives over it. It doesn't matter whether they are looking for gold, food, or land, there is no excuse to sit by and let our innocents get slaughtered when they do march in. I say we move to a better fortified position while we continue our attacks on their marked locations. There is a reason they marked them, so I think we need to investigate why."
He looks at Iormel in the eyes, "We're just looking out for everyone's interests. Truly."
In the morning, the tall elf trudges through town in search of an apothecary or herbalist.
I cannot stop an army, but I may be able to bring a dragon to the ground...
The tall elf offers a grim smile. "Who knows... perhaps the hobgoblins will rebuild your bridge to ease their access to your... little... village..." He wrinkles his brow doubtfully.
Seltazar turns almost dismissively from the speaker and toward Bran and the more pragmatic members of the council, wringing his hands slowly in front of him as he speaks. "From what you have shown me, it does not matter whether they stay or flee. They are doomed." The elf doesn't say it with any malice. Just unemotional, even-toned, hopeless fact. But then he shakes head and sighs. More emotional, no less hopeless. "But if there is to be a sliver of a chance for these people, the key lies with the dragons.
These people may be more resilient and resourceful than I presume, but pit dragons against whatever defenses they can muster and nobody here could argue against the obvious outcome." The tall elf scowls to himself. Doing 'good' is more difficult than I anticipated. With a resigned determination, Seltazar continues. "The only way to help these people is to remove the dragons. We should focus our efforts there."
The elf doesn't look happy, but that's not unusual.
Tal'ariel offers a very practical plea. To her, the choice was obvious. But she was never one to be wedded to home. "You've seen the evidence of the invading force. The uptick in hobgoblin raids, the invasion map, and the head of a dragon that has allied with them. There are thousands of them coming. This town is not built for war. But Brindol offers strong walls and a much larger populace. Join your strength with theirs and you will be far more effective."
. The words of a foreign elf do not seem particularly helpful here.
Bran's words seem to move some of the council. Unfortunately, Tal'ariel manages to come across as condescending and offensive, making things more difficult. Anyone else?
After talking to Brother Derny, and giving over whatever loot she might have on her that could help pay for the suggested upgrades, Mikail goes with the others to speak to the council. She remains silent until Tal makes the mistake of trying to lay things out simply for the people and it comes off as a little condescending.
Clearing her throat, and saying a short prayer to Iomedae (cantrip Enhance Diplomacy) The silver-skinned Aasmair addresses the group.
"Friends, please. You must understand that we are trying to help you as best we can. I understand your not wanting to leave your homes, and I understand your underestimating the force being sent to take this town, but believe me, it is all true! Dragons, goblins, and cultists are right now heading this way to destroy this town. If you stay, you will die...or worse...become slaves to this inhuman army. Iomedae is a warrior and defender of the weak, but sometimes you must retreat to a better battlefield, or risk losing the war completely. Work with us and we can fight for another day. Houses and goods can be replaced, but lives cannot."
She stands for a moment, looking each of the councilors in the eye, before dropping her gaze and stepping back.
Aid Diplomacy:
Irate at the stubbornness of the townsfolk Thom stands to his full height, "Gentlefolk, even the bear leaves its den when the flood waters comes. It would be prudent for you all to leave."
The Town Council hears your words. Before they come to a final decision, they debate some more.
The halfling, Kellin Shadowbanks, is first. "I respect your tactical acumen, friends, but have you tried talking to these creatures to see what they want? They're just raiders, right, after gold? Well, can't we just give them some, then when they go off to spend it on drink or gambling or whatever hobgoblins spend it on, we buy more time to fortify our defenses? Maybe bring in some troops from Andoran or Molthune or somewhere? If you think we cannot buy time, then I agree to evacuate."
Delora is next. "Buying them off is a foolish hope, Shadowbanks. The bugbear's notes show that they're religious zealots, not brigands. And I've seen towns put to the sword before. Death or slavery awaits us if we remain here. We must gather what we can and flee to Brindol, the sooner the better."
Iormel is predictable. "Of course you'd say that Zann, you can bring all of your wealth with you! Horses! Some of us stand to lose quite a lot if the town is abandoned."
Wiston turns to Soranna. She shrugs. "My job is to execute the council's decision."
He persists, and she says "I'll try to do whatever you ask, but I can't stop an army of thousands. Not with a year to plan and fortify."
Wiston is last to speak. He is obviously flustered and scared. "We could send envoys to talk, right? Negotiate terms of a truce? That we'll give them gold and keep our troops out of their way? We won't attack them any more, we won't reinforce Brindol, we'll just stay here? We don't have much they want, do we?"
At this, the rest of the council gives him a withering look in unison. None of them relish the idea of cowering.
Wiston has a good conscience and is troubled at the idea of leaving Brindol to its fate. A story of heroism from Drellin's Ferry - Mikail knows an example - might inspire him to reinforce Brindol.
While you could muster the votes to override Iormel, he does employ many hands who could make evacuation easier or harder. He seems to understand the gravity of the situation but the risk of financial losses is hard for him to accept. Some sort of guarantee might sway him.
Tal'ariel leans in and whispers to the others. "We can probably muster the votes to override Iormel, but he employs many hands who could make evacuation easier or harder. He obviously knows we're in trouble but finds it hard to bear the risk of losing his fortune. We could offer him some sort of guarantee to sway him."
The elven girl considers what to offer. "Do you all have any ideas? We do have that valuable shipment of wine--hard for us to deal with, but maybe useful for him? It could be seen as fair compensation for his help in evacuating the town."
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Sence Motive A:
Sense Motive B:
Nodding at Tal's insight, Mikail whispers back what she has gleaned.
"Wiston has a good conscience and he is troubled at the idea of leaving Brindol to its fate. I might just have a story to tell that might swing him onto our side and get him to support us reinforcing Brindol"
Speaker Wiston sees you whispering.
"We're doomed, is that what you're saying? Well what if we still leave, but instead of Brindol, we just keep going? To Cheliax, maybe. They'll protect us. I mean, yes we have a town guard, but we're just a small town. What could our militia offer to Brindol and its Lion Guard? Aren't they better off without us in the way? We're not known as great warriors."
Mikail steps away from the others towards Speaker Winston.
"Good sir, we are merely talking about what to do next. I was speaking earlier to Brother Derney and he told me of a hero of the town, Sir Pandrus Teeg. I believe you all know his story, but let me see if I have it straight. A warrior and follower of Iomedae, much like myself, Sir Teeg saved the town from an ogre invasion over a century ago. The militia had broken and was fleeing, but he charged right at the chieftain and struck him down, rallying the troops and winning the day. A great hero who knew when to fight and when to conserve his energy to strike at just the right moment. Like Sir Teeg, we need to conserve and collect our energy so that when the time to strike back comes, we can be as glorious in victory as Sir Teeg was."
Speaker Wiston listens to Mikail and seems moved. "Yes, but... I always wondered why Sir Pandrus didn't make his charge earlier in the battle, and prevent so much loss of life? Couldn't these heroes just kill the enemy leader?"
Captain Soranna answers him. "The ogre chieftain stood back and let his men take the brunt of the fighting; he only charged forward to claim the glory when the battle seemed won. Sir Pandrus didn't have a shot at the chieftain before then. So maybe we also have to wait for our opening.
You must also remember that it was our militia, our farmers and bakers and shopkeepers, that rallied behind Sir Pandrus and ultimately won the day."
This finally convinces Speaker Wiston.
"To Brindol. They will not stand alone."
Bran hears the elf's words and nods. He waits a moment for the whispering to stop before turning to Iormel, "There is a lot to be lost. I understand that. What if we were to guarantee your entire stock, all of your wagons and wool and buildings? We have stumbled across a lot of wine, enough to count up 2700 gold pieces at least; not to mention the actual gold and platinum we have found. If you aren't willing due to fear of losses, let us mitigate that fear, because our fear is that these good people can't get out of this deathtrap without your help."
He offers his hand to the man, "You have my word and I will help build it back up brick by brick myself."
Iormel is taken aback, his usual scowl replaced by a look of confusion.
"You would do that?"
He is quiet for a minute. Then he accepts Bran's hand and shakes it.
"I still think you vagrants are all mad, your type always gallivanting about seeking trouble, like Delora Zann used to do, but... maybe there is something more to you. You definitely have courage and a fair modicum of intelligence. And maybe you are just what we need right now. To Brindol it is."
Speaker Wiston calls the vote. He sounds more confident now.
"It is unanimous. We will evacuate, and our troops will reinforce Brindol. Since we likely have a few days, we will use that to prepare. All the supplies we can carry, both to feed our people and to deny the hobgoblins any food. We'll need every wagon or cart we can find, fix, or build, and every horse. Well, almost every one. Delora, make sure our friends all have mounts if they want. And send riders to the neighboring towns and Brindol.
Iormel, Kellin, have your people help me spread the word in an orderly fashion. No panic. The town guard will still be on duty to prevent looting or fighting. I will send for Derny and Sertieren to see what assistance they can provide, and what help they need. I'll send for Morlin Coalhewer as well; we want to bring everything from his forge with us. As Captain Soranna has pointed out, any metal we leave behind gets turned into weapons by hobgoblins.
Nobody gets left behind. We leave at dawn three days from now."
Bran nods and looks at his companions, "And what of us? We need to solve the riddle of what their next target is and how to stop it. I think we should council and prepare for the oncoming attack by going out again. As much as we should stick around and help the move to Brindol, perhaps we can spend these days doing some reconnaissance and cause some more damage to their plans. Tal, Thom, Seltazar, Shiskha, Mikail, any ideas?"
He gives the council a sad look, "I feel we may be needed elsewhere for these next couple of days, but we can meet up again in Brindol."
The tall elf looks bored. It's not that this conversation isn't riveting. It's just that the elf doesn't care. Also, convincing people to save their own lives is a lot more arduous than Seltazar anticipated. If they were even doing that. Likely they were all doomed.
The elf is startled from his reverie when Bran addresses him. He glances around the room for a moment, eyebrows drawn before forming a careful response. "I... am no expert in this but I still believe that we are all doomed as long as there are dragons aiding that army." Seltazar looks directly into Bran's eyes, a darkness roiling under the surface of his gaze. "I do not believe you to be the type to act out of fear." The old elf breaks his gaze and glances around, looking almost surprised to see the others. "We should move toward the hobgoblin army. Find the dragons, if we can." Seltazar seems uncertain, deflated, despite his bold proclamation.
What is the right thing here? Will a heroic death reunite us? It is unclear... It was so much easier before.
As almost an afterthought, the elf asks, "What is Ozyrrendion? It is on your map. Do we know anything about the other names?"
Thom absentmindedly stroked his beard as he thought about the groups next course of action. After several moments he advised, "Perhaps some reconnaissance is in order." The large druid takes as seat on the ground, pulls out his pipe and begins to smoke, his brows knitted lost in thought. He pulls the pipe from his mouth, "Yes reconnaissance might be best. I, for one, am in no hurry to find and confront these dragons."
"In my view, we should go to Rhest. We know one of their agents is on a mission there, following this Ghostlord myth. It's hard to know what the truth of the stories is, but at the very least we know that Saarvith, a goblin ranger, is on a mission there. Striking at another Wyrmlord commander can only help our cause."
"I would agree with Tal'ariel. Taking out the leaders might help us stall the army and give the people of the vale time to retreat behind the walls of Brindol. This Saarvith may also have information on it, much as the creature from the keep did. What do the rest of you think?"
"We strike Saarvith then. No need to fumble around in the dark when we've been given a challenge ahead of us." He looks at Seltazar, "I don't act out of fear, but there is a difference between throwing one's life away attacking an army and jumping a 30 foot chasm. I have seen men try to fight shadows and other fiends and they were brave, sometimes braver than I, but that bravery didn't help them survive the pits."
He breathes and shakes off the memory, "Ozzyrandrion was the green dragon that we've slain. I don't know about the other names unless they managed to get some information from that book."
Mikail gives a firm nod, then seems to think of something.
"We should go to Brindol first. On the way, we can warn the smaller towns and villages of what has happened so they might join the troops from here. Also, it will give us time to explain to the rulers of Brindol what is going on."
"I don't act out of fear, but there is a difference between throwing one's life away attacking an army and jumping a 30 foot chasm. I have seen men try to fight shadows and other fiends and they were brave, sometimes braver than I, but that bravery didn't help them survive the pits."
The tall elf nods acquiescently with a grim smile. "As I have said, I will do what I can to aid you. Anything we do to gain more information will be valuable."
I would seems that one person has been absent for quite some time. Shishka had been on some personal business, trying to secure her shop. SHe had hired a few couriers to to her brother in Terrelton explaining the situation and giving him instructions on what to do to prevent the enemy from getting access to her "stuff"
Instruction him to meet her in Brindol.
She had arrived at the meeting rather late, having missed the vote. so what did I miss?
The Town Council departs to make arrangements.
Speaker Wiston addresses you before he leaves.
"I wish you could be here as we are leaving; a column of refugees makes a tempting target for worg-riders. If you must go to Rhest, I understand.
I think it is better to leave it to us to contact the Brindol authorities. I have had some dealings with Lord Jarmaath and Lady Kaal. There are sensitivities in how you address each of them. They know and trust me, to a degree. They don't know you. I will send riders with letters from our Town Council to both. We will also to alert Terrelton, Nimon Gap, Talar, and Dauth. Maybe Witchcross and the Hammerfist Holds as well.
If you should go to Rhest, do try to find the elves that live around there. I don't know if this Wyrmlord has driven them off, but if not, I imagine they would welcome your assistance -- and maybe they can return the favor."
Bigger update tonight -- and if nobody has time to post before that happens, your shopping can be retroactive.