Bor finishes tying up the cultist. He uses strong complicated farming hitches to bind the cultist's hands and feet. He swiftly moves to pick up his bow and assess the carnage. Two at a time, Bor begins dragging kobold bodies to where the Orc fell and piles them all up.
Bor sees the townspeople being ushered to the keep and knows it's time to go. He returns to the cultist and scoops him up onto a shoulder like a sack of grain. He turns and shouts, "Anyone in the house! Last chance to make for the keep! and then he begins double timing after Zennor and the others.
Vano stashes his bow and draws a dagger, using his off hand to grip to kobold by the ear as he moves towards the keep.
"Quickly and quietly now, and you'll live to see tomorrow," he says.
Dorn also keeps a firm hand on the Kobold, while his rapier is gripped in his other hand.
Dorn sees the blood running down Vano's shoulder, and feels ashamed for worrying about his pants. He lays a hand on him, and sings a long, soft note that sends healing energy coursing through his friend, mending his wounds.
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"Anyone ever tell you, you have a pretty good singing voice?" Vano says to Dorn, feeling the pain from the kobold's sling stone fading. He rolls his shoulders, feeling the knot gone, the bruised ribs no longer hurt. "Thank you."
Tycandus looks back for any straglers, and then makes his way towards the keep, following the rest.
Bor> It would take a minute to search each body, or 30 seconds to just cut their coin purses. Either way it will delay your trip to the keep, and for that matter tying up the cultits... which is another minute or so action.
Vano> grabs the sobbing kobold by the ear, and starts to drag him towards the keep. He is blubbering and not putting up much resistance.
Dorn> Moves up and grabs the Kobold's other ear, and begins to sing a healing song, as they walk and try to catch Zennor, and the citizens.
Ty> Looks back, and thought he doesn't see them, remembers that someone was fighting back from inside the second storefront on the left, and nobody has seen hide nor hair of them since.
Zennor> Keeps hustling the crowd towards the keep.
Zennor only> DC12 Perception roll.
Success:
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the injured winged kobold appear above the roof of the last store in line. He is looking back over his shoulder, and gesturing to something in your direction.
Tycandus hangs back and takes a look into the storefront quickly, keeping Bor in sight, ready to call out to Bor if there is or joining him if not.
Bor>:
Bor circles around to each Kobold, taking just long enough to jerk their small coin purses from around their necks, and deposit them in his pocket. As he reaches the still alive (But playing dead) kobold, the Kobolds eyes widen in fear, and he gasps a bit... but then remembers he is supposed to be dead, and goes limp, his tongue lolling out.
He then steps to where Tycandus waits for him, and stowing his weapons, hefts the cultist to his shoulder with a grunt.
Tycandus> Stays on the alert, looking into the storefront where the resistance was coming from.
Perception: DC15
You see the head of a bearded creatures... probably a dwarf, poke around the counter for a moment, but then quickly duck back.
Once Bor shoulders the cultist with the giant egg shaped not on his head, he and Tycandus hustle to join Dorn, and Vano, who slowed their trip with the Kobold in hand... literally... to wait on The other two to join them.
Vano & Dorn>: Now that you're sure that Bor and Tycandus are on their way as well, you resume dragging the struggling, but cowed Kobold towards where Zennor is pushing the struggling refugee's towards the keep.
Zennor
As Zennor and the refugee's get within about 30 yards of the keep, a side door opens up, and a small group of town guard come out, bearing spears and shields... obviously a town militia. Zennor stops to wait on her companions as the soldiers escort the townspeople into the keep.
Suddenly from behind the houses on the right, comes the winged kobold, clutching a giant rock in his hands. Before anyone can react, the unaware Zennor is pounded in the head by this large rock, falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The avenging Kobold's shriek of celebration however is cut short, by the appearance of two arrows from the Keep wall, piercing it, and bringing it to the ground, almost on top of the inert form of Zennor.
"Hurry Inside". comes the gruff voice of the red haired, and bearded dwarf leading the troops. "They're about to cut us off, and we don't have the manpower to stop them".
As you look to the left and to the right, you can see that there are indeed large groups of enemy troops approaching to finish surrounding the keep.
"You know, considering there's a dragon about, you'd think this would be harder. But so far it's nothing we can't handle," Dorn said with a laugh to Vano.
It happened so quickly.
One moment, Zennor was shouting orders to get the townsfolk inside, and then the next, she was lying on the ground, bleeding and very still.
Someone was screaming. It took him a moment to realize it was himself.
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Vano looks up at the sky, arm cocking back to throw the dagger, but the winged kobold is gone too quickly. He looks down at Zennor, and then picks up the kobold. He shoves it forcefully into Dorn's arms.
"Take him inside. Get it together," he whispers to the bard. "I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."
Then he grabs Zennor under the arms and begins to pull her body into the keep.
Dorn stiffens his jaw, nods to Vano and drags the Kobold to the Keep.
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Seeing nothing in the storefront, Tycandus hustles after the rest, slowing only when he sees Zennor dropped, "Gods no...." He regains speed at the guards instructions, and grabs Zennor, helping Vano pull the Dwarf into the Keep.
Things happen in a hurry, but they seem to be resolving in slow motion to the grief stricken party. Had they really lost one of their own? The party is hustled inside, along with the refugees, whom quickly find friends, and with words of gratitude go their own way. In fact the Swifts swarmed around Zennor's insert form, until several people showed up to assist with the body.
"She's not dead, but that's a severe wound". "We'll do what we can, but I don't know if she'll make it or not". They carefully bundle the Dwarf into a cart, and whisk her off to another part of the keep.
As the bustle of your entrance fades, and you all return to reality, you see that you are in the courtyard of a small but sturdy keep. An occasional arrow or sling stone comes flying over the wall, but there is no steady assault. The darkness seems to have discouraged some aerial attacks, and you have a moment to take stock of your situation.
The Dwarf who commanded the rescue team steps forth, and introduces himself.
"Escobert's the name". "They call me the Excobert the Red, and I'm Castellan of the keep". "Seems as thought you've picked an auspicious time to visit Greenest". "Sorry about you companion, but our healers will do all they can to make her comfortable".
"If you don't mind follow me". Governor Nighthill will want to meet you".
The sturdy dwarf, then turns and heads for a heavy wooden door, pulling forth an immense ring of keys and leading the way.
"Shame we couldn't have met under better circumstances Escobert. My name is Bor Bersk. I have traveled far and not to see my companion fall mysteriously at your door. Do your best for her care."
The blood of battle and escape is still rushing through his body as Bor follows the castellan. Nerves on edge he can't help but look at everything suspiciously.
"Yes, of course, the Governor," Dorn says distractedly. "Whatever we can do to help."
Although inwardly he was questioning what he could do at all. He already felt drained. What little magic he had left were little better than parlor tricks. And one look at his rapier reminded him that he was only an adequate swordsman.
Still a dragon at the gates certainly gave one clarity. If he could help in any way he would.
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Tycandus, Bor, Dorn and Vano: You are all shown to an outer waiting room, with several comfortable chairs and couches many facing a roaring fire. Some young servants bring you some water, ale, hard bread, and some dried apples to refresh yourselves. After you've been in here for a few minutes a young half-elf enters, and sets about cleaning and binding your various wounds.
Tycandus> When you attempt to look around a guard at the door gently but firmly tells you that it is best that you wait in this chamber until the governor can see you. He shouldn't be more than a few more minutes.
Eiryn>:
Your arrival here was fortunate for the town, but maybe not so fortunate for you. You've been helping with the wounded almost since you arrived, only having time to catch a nap here and there. You've used one of your cure spells to save a little girl, but have not really revealed your full powers to those in charge.
When you first arrived, you noticed a heavily muscled, and scarred man was brought in unconscious, and you were tasked with treating his wounds, before he was taken to the dungeon holding cells. You find that the wounds should not have caused his level of unconsciousness and are concerned that there is treachery afoot.
Next you performed triage on a young Dwarven woman whom was brought in with a severe head wound. Your knowledge tells you that she might not live through the evening, and that you should save your healing magic for those more likely to survive. You do all you can to make her comfortable, and then move on to other matters.
Finally, you are summoned to go to the governor's waiting room, and help treat a band of adventurers that are recent arrivals to the battle. You understand that they are associates of the dwarf you just treated, and their spirits may need as much healing as their bodies. After this treatment you are to wait with them, and report to both the Governor, and the Castellan the status of supplies for medical care. You have this report in hand.
You've been so busy treating the wounded, that you've had little time to access the situation in town. All you know is that for the past four hours the town has been besieged by a Dragon, and a fairly large force of humans, and humanoids in league with said dragon.
Treggor>
You've made quite a few enemies in your time, and your reputation sometimes confronts you at the most inopportune times. Who'd have thought that someone would find you in this rinky dink town, and the first night here as well. You haven't even had time for a good brawl. From the taste in your mouth, and your foggy head, you're sure that someone drugged you last night. And now here you are in the brig, without opportunity to defend yourself.
The only saving grace is that lovely vision of an angel that treated your wounds, and brought you that... well... substantial porridge this morning. Though you've complained often and loudly to any who approach, so far you've been stymied.
Then they brought down another prisoner, and threw him in the cell with you. He was a human, with a rather large knot on his head. He mumbles and groans a bit, but is not fully awake yet.
After waiting for the man to get up, he asks "What's yer name and how did ye get thrown in this gods-forsaken hole?"
The young female half-elf that enters the room introduces herself as Eiryn Dirandul. She has bright blonde hair and valiantly wears a friendly smile through the small sprinkles of blood and dirt that dot her face and forearms. From what you can tell she hasn’t seen much sleep and is holding up through sheer force of will by now. Still, she has a friendly word for every one of you and dutifully cleans all the minor and major wounds on your bodies with professional accuracy. Every time before she starts her work on a new patient, she speaks a small prayer to Deneir, so he might guide her hand and grant her the wisdom and knowledge she needs.
She takes the last of the fresh bandages from one of the servants and sends her away with a nod. Now alone with you, she addresses the group while bandaging Tycandus.
“I heard you fought well outside. Many of the villagers made it safely here because of you,” she starts with sincere appreciation in her soft voice. “I am sorry I couldn’t do much more for your friend at the moment. You deserve to know he is still in critical condition and I’m not very confident he will make it through the night. I am truly sorry.”
Bor sits in front of the fire, head in hands. His heart is heavy with the loss of his friend. Inaction breeds impatience and weariness as he sits here contemplating what went wrong. Has he learned anything or not? Will he ever be strong enough to protect his friends? There was still a dragon out there yet they had hardly managed to survive against its smaller cousins.
"I swear by Chauntea and the Truesilver I'll become stronger for you Zennor Sanjust"
After about an hour of rest, one of the doors to the waiting room opens and Escobert emerges. "Follow me". "The Governor is ready to talk with you".
Treggor>:
The man gasps a bit, at the rude awakening, and scuttles backward until he reaches the end of the room. "What"! "Where"! "Who are you"? The man then reaches for his head and feels the knot rising there. "Oh. Now I remember". "Where am I, and how did I get here"?
The man then makes to rise, but almost falls from his dizziness. "I am Kildare, for what it's worth, and now I'm questioning myself about what I've gotten myself into". "I knew there was some risk, but those Dragon guys pay well". "OH why did I ever leave the army". The man then sits back on the hard bunk, with his head in his hands.
Any further questions are interrupted by the sound of multiple feet coming down the steps.
Bor, Tycandus, Dorn, Vano, and Eiryn>: "Come on now". "All of you". "You too elven blooded lady". he says nodding his head at Eiryn. He then leads you up several sets of stairs, until you arrive on the top of the keep. The air is chill, and the smell of smoke fills the air.
As you emerge, a man approaches... obviously Governer Nighthill. He is a human male of about sixty years. The right side of his face and head is bandaged, and his right arm hangs in a sling. This light blue tunic is stained with his own blood.
"Welcome to Greenest". "I can assure you that it is not usually like this". "I consider it fortunate however that province has graced me with your presence". "I must appeal to your generosity". "To be honest... I need your help. "Our resources are sorely strained, and I need a small group to perform several tasks".
"It seems to me that this attack is mainly to cause confusion, and gather wealth". "They don't seem to be making an attempt to capture the keep, but to keep us contained". "We really need to capture one of their leaders for questioning". "Perhaps a small group such as yourself could succeed where a larger group might fail". "I implore you". "Will you help"?
"I'm not sure who else to call upon".
At this time Escobert clears his throat, and glances sideways at the Governor. "Well there is one other that might could help".
The Governor raises his eyes in question to the Dwarf...
"You know". "The bull of a man, we just locked up last night".
"Treggor you mean"! "Well I suppose we can't keep him locked up just for having a reputation can we"? "Why don't we offer him his freedom if he'll join this group".
The Governor then turns back to the party. "We will make plans in a moment". "I offer you the services of a mighty warrior... though I can't say he's the most pleasant man alive". "He can still be of use".
The man then turns to Eiryn. "Lady". "You have my thanks, but might I ask one more favor of you"? "These worthy souls have lost one of their own, and I ask that you accompany them upon these tasks". "What say ye"?
"Escobert, bring the man up, and let's see what he says".
The dwarf steps out and sends a few men to gather up this Treggor.
Intelligence Check: DC15
Could this Treggor be the infamous Treggor Mynth... vile pirate, and miscreant?
As the party waits for their new arrival, The Governor leads them around the Parapets of the keep. Looking out you see that the keep is surrounded by cultists, and hummanoids. Many buildings are burning, and you can see much loot being carried off, and stacked into waiting carts, and onto waiting animals.
As a could of smoke passes you all see appearing out of the night, headed straight your way the form of a large swooping Blue Dragon. The men on the Keep roof run for their crossbows, and the ballista, and prepare for the worst.
Bor
As you are grieving your loss, you remember the purses that you had cut. Several of them are rather heavy. The total collected is about 125 GP worth of coins, and gems. Each has one Gold Coin you don't recognize stamped with a five headed dragon on the back.
Treggor:
As your cellmate reclines back to sleep off his pain, 6 burly castle guards arrive, and ask you to put your hands through the cell door slot, where-upon the clamp manacles onto your wrists.
"Your lucky day it is". "The Governor's seen fit to offer you a chance at freedom". They then begin to lead you up the stairs.
You have the option to resist, manacling, resist the trip, try to run when they're escorting you... (One of them has an undeployed mancatcher with him.)... or follow them to the roof of the keep.
One of the servants has taken the liberty of bringing Eiryn's equipment to the meeting on top of the keep. Probably by the order of the castellan. Eiryn might well pass for a simple travelling healer, only her crossbow and a holy symbol of Deneir around her neck might give away her true profession. She arms herself while you speak and shoulders her small backpack. Doing so, she almost loses her balance, she is clearly not the strongest.
"The gods' will isn't ours to question and apparently it brought me here," she replies to Governor Nighthill. "I will aid in any way I can."
As Eiryn hears the name Treggor, she raises an eyebrow in surprise, jet remains silent. Then she sees the dragon approaching. The gentle smile she has been wearing vanishes and is replaced by pure hatred. With a swift move she has the crossbow at the ready and is snorting an insult in some foreign language.
Treggor
The leader of the guards, a man old but still strong (Old man Strong), frowns at you. "Only the Governor can free you, and you'll be wearing these till he takes them off". "You can determine if you want to be conscious while you're wearing them or not". "Now be a good man, and let us deliver you to him without any trouble". The leader, and all his companions pat their nasty cudgels in hand, and look eager to have a piece of the famous pirate.
Treggor's matted beard parts as he dons a wide grin, stained and crooked teeth bared in what can only be assumed is pirate friendliness. "Now captain, there be no need for unpleasantness. I'll keep me hands in me pockets and you can parade me wherever ye like. Chains and clubs be fer less civilized folk than you and I, wouldn't ye say?"
Treggor approaches the bars and puts his hands through. "Do ye hear that ringin' sound?" he says, though no such sound is apparent.
,
Treggor
"Give me a break". "Civilized"? "I know of you Treggor Mynth, and civilized is hardly spoken in your name". "I've been ordered to deliver you to the Governor on the roof for some strange reason, and I'm going to do it". "You yourself can choose the easy way or the hard way".
Bor had been patient while waiting for the governor. More so while listening to him. They had taken two prisoners and saved as many hands worth of townspeople. Yet, he wanted more. And now he was offering the assistance of prisoners? How desperate was he?
"Take cover! We've got incoming!"
Bor straps his shield to his arm and pulls one of his handaxes free. He stands firm in the middle of the tower staring at the dragon bearing down on them.
Dorn ignored the woman who helped bandage him up. Instead he spent his time morosely fiddling with his flute. He had been so cocksure just a short time ago. Somehow even the thought of being sieged by a dragon had seemed merry, jaunty fodder for a good story. But now, his confidence had been shaken.
He barely remembered his manners with the Governor, but did manage to give him a respectful nod, at least.
It wasn't until later when the Governor was asking them to go off and find the leader of the siege that he finally opened his mouth. And originally he had fully intended to call the Governor a very colorful word.
But then Bor told them to get down. And he saw it. The dragon. His knees actually shock and he gaped at the wrongness of the beast. Sure, some bards talked about how majestic the wyrms looked, but all Dorn could think was that something so large should simply not be able to fly.
Gods, this was all madness. What chance did anyone have against a dragon?
But then, he thought of Zennor. And his jaw tightened. Maybe, he couldn't kill a dragon. But he could certainly shove his rapier down the throat of whoever brought it forth.
"We'll be happy to do it, Governor."
Vano might have remembered more had he not been distracted by the sight of a dragon flying towards them. With trembling fingers he draws an arrow and ducks behind the cover of the parapet.
"I know he said I'd find my destiny here, but please, if any gods are listening, let me find it somewhere else," he whimpers as he puts the arrow to the bowstring and waits, watching the guards with their crossbows.
Treggor>:
As the Guard captain puts on the manacles, he leans to whisper to you. "I believe that no mans deeds are as bad as rumors make them out to be, nor as good as people want to believe...so unless you make me I'll skip the man-catcher for now". "But believe me if I have to use it I won't hesitate".
The guards surround you, and lead up up endless stairways, until you reach a door, that must certainly lead out onto the roof of the keep. Do you resist the journey, and if so how?
Treggor>: You arrive on the roof only a little surprised that it is night. The smell of smoke assaults your nostrils, and you're startled to see the amount of armed men on the roof of the keep. You're even more startled when a cloud of smoke blows away, and you see a large Blue dragon zeroing in on the roof. "Gods!" The Guard captain gasps. He's back"! "Here". "I can't let a man go defenseless against that, I implore you to use it against that beast, and not against me". With that the man, releases your manacles, and pushes a his loaded crossbow into your hands, along with a quarrel of 9 additional bolts. He then heads off with his squad of men to take position along the parapets, obviously to fight off the dragon.
You see mostly the town watch, armed with an assortment of light crossbows, and darts. Two men have longbows. You also spot a group standing apart from the others... Four obvious adventurers, an older bandaged human, a Dwarf, whom seems to hold some post of command, and the 1/2 elf woman who administered to you when you first arrived... Oh and a large blue dragon.
Everyone> From the same door you entered the roof area, you see a squad of 6 guards emerge, leading a captive... A large muscle bound man, with a scarred visage. Eiryn gasps as she realizes who this is. As one of the guards, releases the man's hands, and arms him, you are suddenly drawn back to the more pressing matter.
Initiative Rolls
Bors
Treggor
Tycandus
Vano
Dorn
Eiryn
Castle Guards
Dragon
Frightened
So Initiative order is...
Bors
Eiryn
Castle Guards
Tycandus
Treggor
Vano
Dorn
Dragon
Have at it.
A grim look on her face, Eiryn shouts a prayer into the night sky:
She can feel her deities blessing, as do Tycandus and Vano who are standing close to her. She swiftly makes it to the parapets and prepares for the worst.
Bor stands tall in the middle of the tower but as the dragon draws nearer it's aura overwhelms his sensibility. Never had he faced such a fearsome beast. He felt powerless, helpless... fragile. He staggers backward with every second the beast draws nearer.
Without a word, Bor turns and flees through the roof door.
[dice=Wisdom]1d20+2
[dice=save vs dragon fear]1d20+2
Bor stands tall in the middle of the tower but as the dragon draws nearer it's aura overwhelms his sensibility. Never had he faced such a fearsome beast. He felt powerless, helpless... fragile. He staggers backward with every second the beast draws nearer.
Without a word, Bor turns and flees through the roof door.
Bor>
In 5E you don't have to run when fightened, you just can't move closer, and attack with disadvantage... so you don't have to run away unless you want to.
Tycandus moves to the crenelations to wait for the dragon to get closer, so he can do anything besides run.
He looks back at the Governor, "Your idea was to bring everyone to the roof, with that thing flying around?" and shakes his head, even while getting his weapons ready. "Is there an extra longbow around?!
A bear of a man, thick and stocky frame under the worn cloth and leather vestments of a sea captain too long ashore, looks at a crossbow in his arms with distaste. The guard disperse around him as he looks up into the sky, a cold determination set in his eyes as they reflect back the dragon flying towards them. He takes a few steps while shouting a challenge, spittle showering his scraggly, matted beard as he yells furiously at the creature. He then shoulders the crossbow and fires a bolt, almost as an afterthought.
"Ye don't scare me, ye overstuffed snake-scaled canary! Come down 'ere and fight me face ta face."
,
"Bah, this is driftwood! Somebody bring me some knives!"
"Yer kin got tha best of me last time, but I'll show ya the fury of a Mynth right through yer eye, beast!" Treggor fumes to himself.
Bor drops his handaxe, unslings his bow and frees an arrow towards the dragon. The fear has got him though and his aim is wild.
Vano whimpers and races out of the path of the dragon, cowering against the side of the keep and loosing the arrow with trembling hands, watching as it bounces harmlessly off the beast's armored hide.