The Dust of War (Inactive)

Game Master Belac93

Borak catches the shovel. He places a hand over his chest and bows. "By your command."

'A woman of action. I like that.

He goes to where the army's latrines are dug downstream, and digs a new hole for their small unit.

Rook listens to the new commander's "pep" talk with a smirk.
How long will this one last, I wonder?, he thinks to himself as he continues on his nocturne patrol.

Hedgerow raised an eyebrow at this newcomer, seeming very confident and desirous of others' attention.

Is she our sergeant?

He had no reason to doubt it, especially considering the crisp new armor she war. Only those wealthy or important could afford new armor. He then looked at his own attire, wrapped in thick bear-hide crafted into strapped armor; he remembered the fight with the bear - it seemed like an age ago when the hungry bear happened upon him and wouldn't submit to his druidic magic of animal friendship. He had little choice that day, but after the battle he honored the beast by taking its skin and donning it in homage to its ferocity.

As much as he'd come to love his hide suit, it set him apart when compared to the officer's fine boiled leathers.

Chase yawns and heads into his tent for the night

It's good the get a nights sleep when available.

So far so good. Elena said:

"Eat and rest while you can. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. We need to assign a watch order. I need my keen Elvish and Dwarvish eyes up front to hash it out."

She wish she could say she knew what she was doing, but as the legendary sage of spirits (wine, usually,) once said: sometimes all you can do is fake it until you make it.

After getting back from exploring the area, Draco greets himself. Oh, sorry I didn't to back here earlier greet myself, I'm Draco. As he waves to Elena

Coming up behind their new "commander", Rook speaks.

"I watch during the night, M'Lady."

"You heard the commander. Eat up," Riswynn says, pushing a bowl of pungent fish head soup into the arms of each member of the unit. "It tastes a lot better than it smells, I promise." As Riswynn hands over the bowl to Elena, she gives the unscratched armor a skeptical look with an eyebrow raised high, but says nothing.

Heading back toward her own tent, she claps Rook on the shoulder. "Watch is all yours. I'm sure this one will do great, commander. Spookier than the night itself," she says with a grin. "Now if you'll excuse me," she continues, plucking an eye out of the fish head in her soup and popping it into her mouth, "I need to get ready for bed."

Back at her tent, Riswynn takes out a thick, leather bound tome. The cover is plain brown, with no markings save the cracks in the leather indicating a well-made and well-worn book. With the book open in one hand and her crystal in the other, she stops at four points around her tent, muttering arcane syllables and moving on to the next point when her crystal surges with an inner light before fading. Once she's encircled it in a diamond shape, she barks one final word, then ducks inside the tent to retire for the evening.

Before going to bed, Riswynn will cast alarm as a ritual spell. Anyone but her or any of the other PC's entering a 15-foot cube around her tent in the next 8 hours will trigger a mental alarm that wakes her up.

Elena twitched. Dark elves were known for being sneaky. Chalk that one up as another fine scout. Now for business. She'd been told: get people into a routine when things are good, and they'll stick to it when things are bad. Meanwhile, the appearance of Draco had caused even more cracks in her poker face. Sudden Dragonborn appearances tended to do that.

She nodded to both of them courteously.

"I'm Elena D'Augustino. And right now, I'm in charge. Get some rest, lets sort out the watch order."

She took a bowl from Riswynn, considering her options. Well, she had to eat at some point. And then she was stunned, unable to believe her tongue, the impossible had happened, the fishhead soup wasn't terrible. She couldn't bring herself to look at it, but it was flavorful. Riswynn needed to be protected. By the gods, she made Fishheads edible!? What sorcery had allowed for such a feat?!

Right.

So, she quickly threw together a set of 5 two hour watches with the group. Technically Rook would only be set for two hours of them, but she was pretty sure that he'd be up the whole time no matter what, with the whole sunlight-is-his-bane thing. When he would actually sleep was anyone's guess, but everyone was making sacrifices for this coaliton, right?

Right.

She sighed, as day passed to night, and she came to grips with her current circumstances.

The night passes uneventfully. Everyone wakes slightly sore from the hard ground, but properly rested, to a loud bugle from the front of the camp, signaling the day's beginning. You all know that this means 10 minutes, and then meet up with the commander of your platoon. In this case, Sargent Krak, the large half-orc from before.

What do you do for the 10 minutes you have? The other squads in your platoon are the halfling/gnome family, and a group of reclusive beings you have yet to meet.

Another uneventful night ends and the harsh dawn greets Rook. Shielding his eyes, he slips into the shadows and checks he has all his equipment on hand and that it is in good repair before arriving with the others for inspection.

Elena has no trouble getting up. She hadn't gotten hammered after all, and that meant that she was awake, alert, and generally hating the world. she readied her gear, and went to make sure everyone else was ready.

She was a soldier now. Yes. A soldier. She certainly didn't look like anyone else in the camp, but she was going to try and act the part.

It was going to be a long day.

Mornings, Damnit!

Chase gathers his belongings together and leaves the tent to get the meeting with Krak.

Borak greets the day as he has greeted many while in bivouac; He shaves, gets dressed, and gives thanks to his lord and master. Not the political ones.

That done, he falls out for formation.

In ten minutes, I clean up a little bit.

The druid didn't sleep particularly well. Having the stink of so many soldiers around detracted from his preferred solitude.

"I'mma comin', I'mma comin'," said Hedgerow as the bugle call woke him from the poor rest. He took a few minutes to breath and focus his thoughts in meditation -- he pictured himself atop a stone outcropping overlooking a tranquil lake within a deep wood, with no other humanoids with many miles in any direction. It was 'here' that he was able to commune with the spirits of the world, spirits that had embraced him since the loss of his blood family. He knew he didn't have time for a proper meditation session, but even a few minutes helped to set his mind in order.

He gathered up his loose gear into his pack, strapped on his weapons, and made his way to the muster.

Riswynn dresses quickly and spends some time with her spellbook, preparing her spells for the day. Nice to be back in a routine I guess... she thinks as she steps out of the tent, making sure her things are all properly secured and her armor straps are tightened. Her stomach grumbles, and she hopes meeting with Krak won't cut too deep into breakfast time.

Spells prepared: burning hands, feather fall, shield

"Squads! Form up!" Krak yells at the motley assemblage. There is a grand total of 27 people, your squad, the short ones, and 6 tieflings.

"You are here as a special assignment platoon!" Krak yells, "Many of your jobs will be infiltration, and if need be, elimination!" He takes a pause, and then resumes speaking, "Over in that forest," he points to the south, "Lives a tribe of wood elves! We are sending an ambassador to arrange a peace treaty to let us pass through their land, and you have been assigned as protection duty! You leave immediately after you have eaten! Do not be late!" He walks off into his tent, and pours himself a bowl of gruel.

Chase starts to hum a song as he walks over to get some gruel.

A good song help the gruel go down.

Chase then finds a place to sit and occupies himself with eating.

Bork helps himself to a bowl and a spoon, knowing that you should always eat whenever you can, since you never know when you'll have a chance.

Elena ate her cruel, warm gruel, quietly hating herself for her terrible life choices. New Rule: Riswynn needed to do all the cooking for the squad. She'd probably be able to make even gruel appetizing.

So, protect an ambassador. Easy enough. Hell, Elena could even BE the ambassador if things went horribly wrong. And wood elves were great! They usually needed a drink or two before they started getting really fun (especially after a night of dancing)... so yeah! Time to go to work.

Lord Borak wondered how easily wood elves died. He hoped they wouldn't put up much a fight after their cruel yet inevitable betrayal.

Hearing of their trip through the realm of his most hated cousins, Rook retains his outward expression of disdain, but within he seethes.

How can they expect me to treat with such gol shu! They insult me and all my people by making me part of such an endeavor. Just kill them all and walk over their corpses! All this scrapping and bowing to a people with no honour!

He continues to stand still as these thought wash over him, barely hearing the commands and calls of the others about him.

Though Hedgerow hadn't yet met these wood elves he felt more than up to this task as he had spent the last several decades - indeed, most of his life - alongside wood elves.

He glanced sidelong at the drow elf, wondering what he thought of the upcoming excursion. His people had waged war on surface elves for centuries, much as they had waged war upon them first, driving them deep into the underdark caverns of the world.

Draco eats quickly. He turns to his small but powerful group of allies next to him. I'm ready when you are

Trying to choke down the bland breakfast quickly, Riswynn shovels gruel into her mouth less like she's trying to feed a person and more like she's fueling a stove. Something goes down the wrong way, and she starts coughing, hacking up a wad of food that doesn't look much different after being chewed.

"Sorry. I'm alright, just went too fast maybe," she comments, wiping her mouth. "So... any ideas about who we're defending this ambassador from? I've been a bit out of the loop on politics lately."

Elena looked around. Food was done, time to find the ambassador, and figure out whether or not they were good for something this tenuous. She had a bad feeling about all of this, and maybe the ambassador would be a brilliant and cunning master of diplomacy that could properly deploy this coalition through the woods with the peaceful cooperation of the Wood Elves.

But she didn't know yet. It was time find out.

Once gathered together, you find a haughty looking half-elf standing and waiting for you. "Took you all long enough. Chop-chop, lets go!" He begins to strut off in the direction of the forest, clearly expecting the others to follow. "We shall have to walk!" He exclaims.

Could I have a marching order? The ambassador and other squads will work with you and agree to your marching order.

Hedgerow would prefer somewhere in the middle, for now. FYI starting next level I'll be more than happy to take the point as I will have shapeshifting damage-soaking abilities.

Chase knows his place and moves toward the back of the group.

"I find I do best at range, I find myself in the Cleric's tent frequently if I'm in the front."

Rook keeps about 50' or so to the left of the party...keeping to the wooded shadows as much as possible.

Elena was going to stand next to the Diplomat. Somebody had to salvage this if he was just as haughty to the elves as he was to his escort. This could be a disaster, and if she had to smack him in the back of the head with the hilt of her sword, and take over, she would.

What would they do, arrest her for being competent? Besides which, she probably had someone magically knowledgeable in her squad who could concoct a story about "domination magic" or "sorcery" or possibly even "sorry sir, this diplomat was a construct full of sand, obviously an enemy decoy."

These were all terrible ideas. She bit her lip gently. Normally, she did that to look cute at parties. Today, honest fear was bubbling in her stomach.

Riswynn takes a forward position, hustling to get a bit ahead of the diplomat and her fancy-pants human commander. Best to set the pace at the front--it would be no good to fall behind all these long-legged ones.

As they march toward the forest, she looks back over her shoulder to get a better look at their treaty-maker and the nervous Elena. By way of comforting her commander, she addresses the half-elf: "You should know, I've escorted V.I.P.'s plenty of times. Ninety percent survival rate. Haven't met another merc yet than can match that, I'll tell you that much."

Draco will take the back for now, watching the rear.

As the squad assembles, Lord Borak nods a greeting to the officer Elena.

@ Borak, FWIW I have given not yet given any indication that I am a druid or even use magic. That will soon change, but as of yet I'm simply a warrior/woodsman who is reluctant to share his nature just yet.

Borak's illustration of the marching order is good with me.

Oh, I'm sorry. Three posts in to a game I get so confused about who introduced themselves to whom and about what...

Yeah, Elena's going to hear your words, but she doesn't really know who can do what beyond the mere basics yet: She'll stick where she is for now, but later on, she'll be smarter about shifting where it's tactically advantageous. ;)

Fair 'nuff. =) Since no one else has chimed in, it looks like we're all good with the proposed order, yeah?

Are you done with deciding how to march?

Would appear so? =)

Ready when you are GM

The group continues!

The Walk:
As the group guards the diplomat, they trek over hills and small valleys. The ground is littered with dead bushes and burned trees, and shows signs of a recent wildfire scorching the ground of all vegetation. You can see the corpses of small animals all around, stripped to the bones perfectly.

As you approach the forest, you notice that the trees seem blackened and twisted. The fire apparently was more devastating than it previously appeared. The entire place is a blackened wasteland.

As you walk into the forest, everyone but Draco and Borac hear a rustling in the bushes, and 7 wild looking elves jump out and attack with spears! They are screaming, and seem to be a little frightened of you. There are 3 on either side, and 1 attacking from the front.

"Huh," Riswynn comments as they trek through the charred remains of the forest. "And here I was worried about being careful with my own fire. Hard to say if this was an accident or an act of war." As they pass the blackened wasteland, she shuts her mouth quickly and intensely focuses on the rustling bushes, drawing her warhammer.

Insight is wisdom, right?

Insight: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Riswynn raises a skeptical eye at the attacking force, noting their loosely hanging clothes. "Commander," she says quietly to Elena next to her, "they're just kids. And they're starving - look how woozy they are. What should we do?"

Riswynn stands ready, prepared to fight, but still hesitant to kill a bunch of starving elflings. She raises her hammer defensively, keeping her eyes trained on the spears all around them.

Readied action: if an elf comes in to attack, I will try to disarm them by smacking the spear out of their hand with my hammer.

Warhammer disarm?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Hedge did his best to remain impassive though he was perturbed at the needless destruction of the wood. Fire was nature's cleanser and certainly had its place in the natural order of things, but when its purpose was grounded in war, the loss of life wasn't worth the damage caused.

On the brighter side he realized the lack of foliage would make it more difficult for an enemy to sneak up on...

Suddenly the elf warriors sprung an attack with spears held firmly in their grip. Hedgerow was well aware of the elven ability to blend in their natural terrain, but he was impressed that it these were still able to do so in the burnt, wasted landscape.

Insight: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Persuasion: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (12) + 0 = 12

In the tongue of the elves, Hedgerow shouted firmly at the attackers -

Hedgerow will take no action just yet, other than to attack anyone who attacks him first.

Insight: 1d20 ⇒ 4

Chase has no interest in fighting but prepares for battle none-the-less

Chase readies a Fire Bolt for anyone who attacks him or a comrade unprovoked

"Stand down we have no interest in killing the tired and weakened." Chase says.

Persuasion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Lord Borak tries to think of some sweet words to calm this surprising situation, but he also thinks they should kill them all, so he says nothing until the situation plays out a bit more.

The fight seems to go out of the younglings at the group's words, and they lower their weapons, trembling with exhaustion. Everyone gain 100 xp. One of them collapses, and only one of the 2 girls makes a move to help him. They seem to spy your waterskins, and one reaches out, and says with a cracked throat; "Please. Water. Thirsty. Help please."

The diplomat seems to be staring in disgust at the elves. He says to the others "We want the higher ups. We are wasting our time on these wretches these...cannibals! Willing to eat other sentient beings is no better than a common beast."

Elena sighed, turning to the diplomat.

"Sir, let my people talk to the elves here, something about this just doesn't add up. Might save us walking into a trap."

Wood elves, hungry, in their own woods? This didn't make any sense.