The Fountain of Bethesda (Inactive)

Game Master TheBobJones

Kaddren looks askance at Arimar. "I might be mistaken, but I would generally consider that someone that can claim such a place and defend it with little more than a warning sign and a bow probably has little concern for what happens outside of the borders of their territory." Besides, I thought the point of meeting this Elyas was to try and avoid carving a bloody trail in the bloody mountain... Have to be careful and present a unified front though, in case someone is listening in. Nice exposition, though.

"Speaking of territory, did you ever hear the one about the Cleric and the Dragon?" Not waiting for a response he launches into his tale, with little better to do that is obvious from their position. "There once was an adventuring group that was exploring a large, subterranean dungeon. During this expedition, however, there was a cleric of Sarenrae that managed to get separated from the party in battle. Trying to retrace his steps back to the surface, he instead quickly became hopelessly lost, travelling further into the depths of the dungeon.

'You don't understand', said the dragon, 'I'm merely saying Grace.'" The arcanist chuckles as he comes to the punchline, looking at the party.

A few minutes later
Kaddren looks at Benaiah look he possibly went mad (although he decided that with Barbarians it was sometimes difficult to tell the difference.) "I can write whatever you wanted, although you may want an Invisible extraction plan, which I could provide if you let me freshen up my spell list a minute."

Kaddren can substitute out Flaming Sphere for invisibility at the cost of an AxP, cast Invisibility on himself, and Dimension Slide over to cast Invisibility on Benaiah if it comes to that.
Kaddren has an incredibly sarcastic retort prepared if the suggestion for camping overnight is brought up.

"So... the dragon was going to eat the cleric of Sarenrae? Huh... then who was he saying grace to?" Arimar seemed not to be as quick-witted as he once was, "Let's pen that note, but we should soon consider venturing further inside this man's territory."

Elyas, apologies for encroaching upon your territory, but we merely wish to parley. We will happily leave once we have your attention and know that you will speak with us. We have need to know more of the giants and harpies that inhabit this place, and in return for your wisdom we can offer to try our best to rid you of their presence entirely.

Arimar, Benaiah, Gwen and Kaddren.

"How's that?" Arimar asks, holding the note aloft.

I say we try this for half an hour then trek in for half an hour, then leave the note and return to Draslas.

Sounds good to me! Better than camping probably. Although since you mentioned that Kaddran, how can I resist?

"So we should leave this note, and then set up camp for the night, in case it takes him a while to get here, right? This spot is pretty nice actually, the weather is decent enough, probably much better than higher up the pass." Benaiah begins to mumble as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, just inside the border of the wild man's territory.

After Kaddran's retort, I can't wait to see how he will respond to Arimar's suggestion of not camping, but instead trekking into the territory a mile or so to plant the note. :)

Kaddren raises his hands, his voice, taking on a bit of a biting tone as Benaiah suggests staying the night. "Camping out, in sub-freezing temperatures, in harpy and giant infested territory, less than an arrow flight away from a mysterious and cold-blooded archer? What at all could go wrong?" He thinks a moment, a smirk on his lips. "Besides, we told the 'Master-of-grandly-named-towns' that we would return in an hour and a half. If we don't he might go get the militia out, which will only get those fine folk hurt."

When Arimar suggests going as a group with the note, he closes his eyes for a moment. "You really do like to live dangerously, don't you? Are you sure you don't want to leave a letter for your next of kin as well?" He sighs, exasperated. "Is it crass to point out that if this Elyas turns out to be a dragon, that I don't have to outrun the dragon, I just have to outrun you?" He looks out at the border, then back to the party as the minutes drag on. "I haven't thought of any better plan, but I'm still thinking."

"As you point out, Kaddren, you don't have long to think of that better plan," Arimar replies, without sarcasm, "Also, I'd rather we all faced down this foe than just the one of us. Four against one is better than just the one. In any case, it sounds like he gives warning shots and we are announcing our presence simultaneously with our intentions to leave as soon as we have his attention. The risk is minimal.

"I do, however," he adds, "Agree with you on the hour and a half. No need to worry the good Burgomaster any more than he already is."

Let's head in for half an hour and see where that gets us, then.

Benaiah's first reaction is defensive as Kaddran launches into his protests. As the monologue rolls on, the defensive posture relaxes, and a sly smile creeps into the corners of his lips.

This guy's buttons are going to be easy to push. This could be fun.

Nodding along Benaiah shrugs his shoulders. "So after a snack here, we can march in for a bit. Much better than waiting here forever I agree."

I'll second. Half hour wait, Half hour walk in, drop the note, then back to meet up with the Burgomaster. Unless something happens in between.

Just a quick note that we should be keeping an eye out for traps as we go.

I'll take 10 on my perception check, constant vigilance.

I'll roll with it. Best to have a chance to get above a 17. ;-)

Benaiah, ever the bold one, decide to cross the invisible threshold into Eylas' territory. The companions cannot hide the worry as they scan the environs for signs of the mysterious mountain man.

There is a narrow, winding trail that bisects a butte to the southeast, and a steep hill to the northeast.

After 1d13 ⇒ 11 minutes

Arrow: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 33
Damage: 2d6 + 13 ⇒ (6, 1) + 13 = 20

Arrow: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24
Damage: 2d6 + 13 ⇒ (5, 4) + 13 = 22

Before anyone can do anything, two arrows fly out of nowhere and strike Benaiah. Unfortunately, the Companions, despite their vigilance, cannot see where the arrows were fired from.

Current Conditions: Benaiah -42hp

"Ouch, Benaiah... believe it or not, this is kind of what we wanted," Arimar mumbles to his friend as he reaches over to minister to his wounds.

Lay on hands: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6

"Peace, Elyas, we will leave your territory forthwith!" the big aasimar calls out, "Apologies for the intrusion, but we wished to speak with you about a matter of mutual benefit and could not seem to attract your attention otherwise. If you are willing, see us at the edge of your territory, or at Northpass! We will take our leave until then... or if you prefer to save yourself a walk, we can talk right here and now."

Arimar makes ready to leave after his companions, placing himself between the direction the arrows came from and the rest of the group (soft cover?).

As the paladin slowly retreats with his his softer companions behind him, the only response to his short speech the is the sound of his own voice echoing off the stoney slopes.

Whether or not his message was received, if it was Elyas that shot at Benaiah, or if their assailant cares remain a mystery.

What next?

Benaiah mutters a string of curses to hide his surprise as the two arrows bury deep into his chest and thigh. "There were supposed to be warning shots! Where are the warning shots?!" He growls out between clenched teeth. Sensing the paladin was about to help staunch the blood flow, he yanks both arrows out with another growl to cover his pain. A squirt of blood loses it's velocity almost instantly as Arimar's divine power heals the worst of it.

Benaiah retreats carefully, as planned, their message delivered. With his back facing in the direction of travel, he scans the trees more diligently for the offending shooter.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

I want to roll this one to have a better chance, since my take 10 didn't help.

Oof... not much better.

As the divine healing of Sarenrae fills the large man, the companions make their way back to Burgomaster Draslas' position. Seeing the wounds, he rushes forward and hands a the man a potion.

CMW: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (5, 7) + 3 = 15

"Met Elyas did you? What did he say?" eager to find out more, the Burgomaster listens intensively as the companions relate their tale. "Well, none really breech his territory, and it is true that in years past there was a warning shot. Maybe isolation has affected him, or he felt that the four of you looked a bit more dangerous than a few wayward children.

"Shall we head back to the village or is there more you would like to accomplish?"

Eyes and ears on full alert, they continue to scan the environs for potential signs of threats.

"We wait." Benaiah says defiantly. "I did not take two blasted arrows just to get his attention and slink away. We said we meant to meet with him PEACEFULLY at the edge of his land, and it would be rude to simply walk away without giving him a chance to approach." Benaiah grinds the words out, perhaps harsher than he intended, heavy emphasis on a particular word in case the woodsman had followed within earshot.

I vote we wait for a while as we mentioned above. Assuming it was actually Elyas who shot me, I would even suggest waiting a little longer since he is actually close by.

"It's alright, Benaiah," the halfling says to her companion, clapping the towering man warmly on the back. "We'll make sure your valiant pincushioning efforts are not in vain... " Before she can laugh at her comment, now feeling the immediate danger has passed, the halfling tilts her head oddly to one side while looking at a distant mountain goat.

Taking a few cautious steps toward the beast, Gwendolyn moves slowly forward and slings the delicate violin over one shoulder. "Excuse me for one moment, my friends..." she says, continuing to step away. A little further from the others, she now holds both arms outstretched to each side, palms facing the inquisitive goat, her own face showing a quizzical expression of wonder. Not wanting to risk approaching too closely and spooking the animal, the halfling stops some forty feet away and casts a warm smile on the beast.

"Hello there..." she speaks in the direction of the goat, now feeling self-conscious and fearing she may end up looking a fool. "Can I come closer, Mr. Curious Goat?"

As the halfling approaches, the goat begins to calmly retreat away from her, a bit higher and a bit further away. If it understands the halfling's soothing speech it gives no indication.

Still waking after the mountain goat, the halfling follows cautiously. Her hands remain outstretched to each side, with palms up in a gesture of supplication. "Mr. Goat," she calls warmly, though her voice cannot hide a latent twing of unease. "I hope you are not leading me into Elyas' territory... I cannot endure such pains as my friends, if Elyas chooses to shoot me..."

"Please, if you're going to lead me astray at least do on the safer side of the mountain..."

The halfling continues to approach the goat, even as it withdraws, chatting at it more to calm her own nerves and distract herself from the danger at hand than expecting the beast to react to her calls.

Again the halfling's soothing voice carries over the mountainous landscape to reach the goat's twisting ears. Again the goat retreats higher and away from the halfling.

You are going to have to do something more than just walk after it if you want to.

"Are you quite alright, Gwen?" Arimar asks as the halfling begins chatting to a mountain goat. He produces a javelin and attaches their note (see above) to it. He calmly throws it into the ground inside Elyas's territory and shrugs.

"If the man wants to meet us, he can do so at Northpass," he says, "Read the note on the javelin tip, if you like... again, mutual benefit may be found. We don't resent your attack, it's fair enough after our trespass. We'll be more than happy to chat when you are ready to see us... just don't wait too long. We don't plan to be there much longer than a few days with or without your help."

With the immediate threat of more arrows over, Arimar moves over to Benaiah and ministers to what is left of his wounds.

Lay on Hands: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 2) = 6
Lay on Hands: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) = 7
Lay on Hands: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 5) = 9 -- Pretty sure that does it.

"Shall we go back to Northpass, or do we want to capture and question the goat?" he asks sarcastically, immediately regretting it. Those sort of comments were the old Arimar, he silently chides himself.

Kaddren goes along with the parties antics, only throwing out occasional grumblings at the preposterous turn of events. He does wince notably when Benaiah gets pin-cushioned by the pair of arrows, uttering a timely and helpful, "I think those -were- the warning shots..." He peers around cautiously, ready to move away at a moment's notice

Later, as Gwen focuses her attention on the goat, he asks her incredulously, "Is there some... significance... to the goat, or have you picked up an untimely interest in bovidae? See? Bovidae? Burgo sounds similar... We're fighting giants, not trolls...

With a wave of his hands, he produces a single coffee bean from one of his pouches and recalls the rich blend of caf that, along with the spell he is currently incanting, were two of the only things that resulted in a passing grade in one of this obscenely early classes. Of course, in Past Participles and Particles, the worst thing that might strike me were thrown pieces of chalk, not arrows... He releases the energy of his Heightened Awareness spell and looks over the scene with new eyes.

He clears his throat. "I could tag the goat if you'd like, though if it's a polymorphed or other illusionary foe I will be quite cross at such a development. If that is such the case, goat, can we save each other some time by you stomping a foot twice!?"

Kadden also spots the mountain goat acting oddly, but it does not respond to his requests either.

With the javelin delivered well into Elays' territory, the Companions hope their written eloquence is enough to bring the man to parly. Yet there is still no sight of their attacker.

Benaiah kneels on the ground as the group mulls for a moment, deciding whether to say or go. When it looks like they will likely be making the trip back to town and Arimar finish healing his wounds, the large man takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

He almost misses Gwen's curious interaction with the goat, so deep is his sudden meditative state, but finally perks back up as Kaddran joins in.

"One thing seems clear," he says, stretching out the muscles that were just knit back together through the divine healing of his paladin friend, "Whether that is actually a polymorphed Elyas or not, he will either meet with us, or not meet with us, on his own terms. He certainly knows of our intentions now, and I doubt there is anything else we can do to get him to meet with us." The big man remains down on one knee, stretching out his arms and chest.

"I think I see what you see," he lies, "And I probably would have done the same thing had I seen it first." he indicates the goat. "Though now I would guess the goat is either a spy for the woodsman, or the woodsman himself, just shapeshifted. Either way, I don't think he cares to speak with us, at least right now. Let's head back to town and get a good night's rest in before we begin a trek in earnest up towards the pass. If we are fortunate, Elyas will meet with us and help us. If we aren't that fortunate, then I suppose we will have to find a way to deal with the giants ourselves."

Benaiah shrugs his shoulders, as if now it no longer matters if the fickle woodsman decides to treat with them. They had made their effort, but it was now up to Elyas to return the offer to speak.

He grins as he realizes that such a conclusion was much easier to reach now that he was healed, and not reeling from the wicked arrow wounds.

Kaddren stares at the goat, at first trying to find some evidence of what it might not actually be what it seems. Then, as seconds turn to minutes, he peers into the goats eyes as if trying to make it move by sheer willpower alone. Thoughts that a single casting of Flaming Sphere would settle the matter very quickly may or may not have gone through his head, then just as quickly been discarded. The arcanist does make a peevish mental note to make it a point to have some roast mutton when he returns to town.

Finally he snaps out of it and sighs. "Let's go before someone sees us and decides to accuse us of trying to telepathically kill the goat. Or worse, turns such a recounting into a comedic play." He spins around quickly... but can't resist giving one last swift look back in the direction of the goat in case it made a sudden motion while his back was turned. (Presumably) seeing no change, he then continues to ignore it as if nothing had happened.

(OOC: Kaddren's dreams, later )

"Agreed, let's head back to Northpass," Arimar smiles at Benaiah and Kaddren, "Before the goat shoots Benaiah. I think he's had enough fun playing pincushion for today." The big paladin punches his friend jovially on his newly healed shoulder and leads the way down the path back to the village.

As the companions abandon chasing after mountain goats and trying to parley with crazy mountain men, they walk back to find Burgomaster Draslas quietly scribbling in a small traveling journal.

"Ready then? Deliver your letter?" he queries without looking up from his journal. As the companions relate their story, he quickly looks up and studies their faces. "Not to fret, it is odd how sometimes solutions seem to appear to your problems. Like just before you all arrived in Northpass I was lamenting my boring life. Now, don't get me wrong, being Burgomaster is a tremendous honor, the highest that can be bestowed upon an Oread in Northpass,. But really, to hear of neighbor complain about neighbor, taxes, trade, it is a bit tedious.

"Gwen are you going to serenade us a beautifully as you did on the walk down?" the Burgomaster looks at her hopefully. "Should be less than an hour down. Walking up always takes so much time."

The hike back passes relatively uneventfully. Wildlife seems abundant the further down the mountain the Companions get, the air a bit thicker, and cold mountain streams more abundant. They quickly reach the gates of Northpass, thrust open and framed by a pair of waiting guards. "No news Burgomaster. 'Cept Somulmos' calf ain't been born yet and he says that Tolor's daughter gave it a cross look. Now ...." the guards trails off as Draslas shakes his head in resignation. With a clouded look, he nods his farewell before moving off to meet with the Village Council.

Please let me know if you have any specifics you would like to do to pass the time.

"Thank you for all your help, Master Draslas," Arimar puts a friendly hand on the man's shoulder, "You have been more than generous with your time. Any time you need a companion or a compelling reason to hike up the mountain, let me know!"

Arimar continues to train the men, drilling them as best he knows how. Occasionally, he joins in on a scouting mission or helps to guard villagers as they forage or travel north up the path. Keeping them safe is his prime concern, but he also keeps an eye out for gigantic or harprous activity.

I think we should wait 2 days, and if Elyas doesn't present himself, come up with a new plan for facing off against those giants.

The next few days pass very uneventfully. Burgomaster Draslas has issued orders to the militia that should Elyas be spotted, he and the Companions are to be notified 'With all haste.'

Doctor Archisa Aparn has holed himself up in one of the inn's many comfortable rooms. Each time the Companions visit him, he is lost in an open tome or two, vehemently complaining about the lack of 'Scholarly record keeping' in Northpass.

End of day two

The four companions and the good doctor sit around a private table to discuss their future direction. "Well, it seems this Elyas isn't going to be showing up any time soon," Arimar notes, "And there have been no reprisals from the giants. I think it might be time we headed further up the mountain to discover exactly what it is we are facing off against... and maybe score a blow or two if the opportunity arises.

"I was thinking," he continues, "That if we could pit the harpies against the giants in an open conflict, that would help to whittle the numbers down a little. We would have to find a way to either make the giants a more enticing target - perhaps by reducing their numbers - or to implicate either side in an attack against the other. Do you like the idea? Any clue as to how we might accomplish it?"

Arimar looks mostly to the doctor and Kaddren. Both have shown recently that they have spells in there repertoires that can surprise him.

"Ah Harpies. Well as you know ...."

"We would need some sort of spell casting to negate the effects of their Captivating Song. And we would need something to offer them. I am not sure the giants would really count as possessing complex sentient thoughts.

"I also fear that we would trade one enemy tennent on the land we need for another. But if they could spend unnecessary resources fighting each other, they would weaken themselves for us. Arimar, I notice that you tend to be a man of your word. How would you feel if we were to parley with the harpies, and renege on our promises?"

"I did not suggest parleying with the harpies," Arimar notes, "Merely deceiving them into believing the giants attacked. As for broken promises, I would try not to make any promises that I am likely to break. Deception to gain strategic advantage is one thing - like feinting in battle - but giving my word and breaking it is entirely another. That was the old me. My life and the lives of those around me suffered because of it.

"I would suggest that we don't attempt to talk with the harpies," Arimar adds, "They are the weaker of the two forces, so if we can get the giants angered enough to all-out attack them, that would leave their hold under-defended. Once we have the 'high ground' so to speak, then we could hopefully take whatever forces remained. We would need some idea of the lay of the land, though. Anything either Kaddren or you could do to aid us there?"

After two days spent waiting, the halfling becomes convinced Elyas will not seek she and her companions out. The goat was odd to say the least, clearly having something to do with the isolated woodsman, whether it be himself in disguise or simply a sentry, but even at their recognizing the beast it was not enough to draw the recluse out from hiding. He clearly did not want to be disturbed in the slightest, and for the first time Gwendolyn hope began to dwindle, realizing that there might not be a way to draw Elyas to their cause.

Maybe they would have to proceed without him.

"If harpies are known to wear baubles and trinkets stolen from their victims...," the halfling begins, adding to Arimar's discussion with the doctor. "If we had access to a few harpy cadavers... and we could decorate them with something giant's are known to wear... then, we could leave the harpies in a giant controlled area of the mountain..." the halfing trails off her theorizing, realizing how farfetched the idea seemed. A plan such as this left so much to chance, perhaps too much, relying on the giants themselves to put the pieces of the puzzle together and then to act of their own accord.

Biting her fingernail, Gwendolyn continues to think about the possibility of pitting the two factions against one another.

Kaddren busies himself by exploring the town and offering some aid in the rebuilding when he can. At the subject of exploration, he spreads his hands. "I have some small talent in getting myself in and out of places I probably should be, a great use in crashing parties. Also a knack for stealth and other assorted socially undesirable traits left over from a somewhat rebellious childhood. Sadly, wandering around wild terrain was not something that came in much call, and I might get lost easily."

At the discussion of giant vs harpies, he slaps Arimar jovially on the shoulder. "You know, it's refreshing to meet a paladin that has a certain amount of moral flexibility. Most I've met have peculiarly self-defeating ideals that tend to get rather cumbersome. Once I even met a holy knight that insisted on ensuring enemies were given proper notice that we were going to attack them, up to and including announcing himself as we were attempting to sneak up on some foul villain's lair... but at least that was a step up from the time he left a note ahead of time 'we plan on bringing you to justice...'" The way he recounts the tale it's not completely apparent if it's an example he has personally witnessed, overheard, or is making up on the spot.

After the initial discussion of Arimar's proprieties, however, he briefly considers the ramifications. "While the imagery of giants pelting harpies and harpies luring giants to their doom has some appeal, a lot is riding on the critical thinking of giants. Enraging them is just as likely to cause them to attack the... town..." he pointedly doesn't use the term 'burgo'. "As it is to turn to productive ends. With some creative illusions we could convince them to attack each other, although my strengths aren't really in that area... though I could probably make a few illusory ledges to lead them off from."

"I believe that so long as the giants think it's the harpies, the town is safe," Arimar asserts, believing what he says, "As for your previous companions, I used to eschew the company of paladins myself. That kind of behavior is reprehensible. Endangering your companions against their will is its own kind of evil. If something needs to die or to be brought to justice, then it serves no-one but your enemies to reduce your chances of achieving that end."

Arimar shakes his head at the mention of these 'other' paladins, but something in the back of his mind keeps asking, Are you really worthy of Sarenrae's gifts?

"What? Wasn't me. I promise."

"First step, though, is to survey the area. Probably best if we do it all together," the big aasimar sighs, looking down at his very un-stealthy armor, "And avoid any patrols as best we can. Looks like they do so in pairs... a pair we just might be able to manage or effectively flee from. Just don't forget that their missile weapons are boulders. Toe-to-toe may be the best way to engage these giants."

Sorry for the delay. I'll get more posts up today.

Benaiah, trying to sort through the conversation so far, and very much liking the direction of it, bobs his head along in agreement.

"So I think we all unanimously agree that finding a way to pit the harpies and giants against each other is the best plan. How exactly to do that is the devil in the details. I, for one, think Gwen's thoughts on the matter are fantastic. A dead harpy in a giant's camp wearing giant-favored baubles might be enough to make both sides point at each other. There might be some oversimplification in that, but it's a plan I would buy into."

Benaiah nods once again, in full agreement of Arimar's assessment of scouting out the area, and getting proper intelligence to use for planning purposes, so as not to make decisions based on assumptions that could get them killed, or worse, endanger the entire town.

"Okay, so scouting mission first?" Arimar asks, wanting to get a plan of action in order, "Let's see where they are located and what kind of forces we're looking at here."

Unless Kaddren has scry or the like, happy to head out and get the lay of the land.

After the Companions tactical meeting, they decide to talk to Burgomaster Draslas to gain any more information about the harpies' eerie. The find the Burgomaster seated at the inn, a line of petitioners waiting patiently for the most part. At the sight of the companions, his eyes go wide.

"Almylut, suspend my afternoon appointments. It seems our foreign friends have need of me." Draslas all to happily skirts his daily duties and motions the Companions to join him in the council chambers. Listening intently to their plan, he nods enthusiastically.

"If only I met you all in my youth, oh the adventures we would have had. A bit late for me, but I will take what I can get. So you want to scout out the Harpy's eerie? Seems sensible. They tend to cluster on the western side of the mountain, opposite from Elyas, but a bit higher up. Rather than make multiple trips up and down the mountain, I recommend that we set up an advanced base camp. We have done this before, quite routine for us. I will commandeer a pair of intelligent rangers to scout ahead and prepare the way for us.

"Tents, ropes, firewood, provisions, ... maybe some cold weather gear. Anything else you want we can provide. The advanced team will be ready within the hour, a few hours for me to organize my affairs for the next few days and I will be ready to go." face flush with excitement, Draslas cannot help but grin from ear to ear. "Ah to once again trade in the necklace of authority for the cloak of carefree wandering!" he muses.

Ready when you are

Day 4

Tightening buckles, adjusting packs, going over their mental list of gear, the Companions make their way to the muster sight. They see a shaggy yak laden with bundles to either side and on it haunches. It stares dumbly around as it munches a pile of hay in front of it. It glances at the Companions before emptying its bowels in a yellow-brown steaming pile. It bends down and bites another mouthful of hay. Three oreads, short swords strapped to their thighs, and bows lashed across their backs, adjust bundles, check bow strings, and wind ropes. The nod to the companions as they busy themselves with preparing to depart.

Draslas approaches, dressed much the same as when he and the companions searched out the elusive Elyas. He warmly greets the companions before looking to the clouded grey skies. "Spring is an odd time in the mountains. One day the skies are clear and blue, and the next the snow is so thick you cannot see the hand in front of your face. Worry not, we are well provisioned as any seasoned mountaineer would be, and have braved many a mountain storm. Shall we?" he checks with the oread rangers and once they are ready depart for Northpass gate.

The crowd is thicker than normal, word of the Burgomaster leaving must have spread quickly. Orus and his parents also line the throng bidding their Burgomaster farwell. His parents approach and again thank the companions for their heroics rescuing their son. As the companions scan the crowd, they get the sense that not all share Orus' family's sentiments. One can only assume not everyone is pleased the Burgomaster continues to spend so much time away from Northpass.

Once on the trail up the mountain the companions adjust their stride as the path slopes upward. All too quickly they feel the familiar burn in their thighs as they climb higher and higher on the mountain.

A pair of oreads prod the yak along with a goad, its sure-footed step easily keeping pace with the traveling group. Once again the mountain teams with indigenous wildlife. Birds wing through the air, small herds of mountain goats scamper up sheer rock faces, small mammals scurry away once the group approaches, and each shadow looks to conceal a small predator waiting for the perfectly timed leap. As they ascend, the green patches of vegetation slowly fade, trees turn to shrubs, and more than one puddle has iced over.

Throughout their journey, the advanced team has left trails makings, fixed ropes, and ladders across chasms. Overall the trip is peaceful and calm on this balmy day. After a break for a lunchtime snack and to readjust the pack on the yak, they strike out again. Before long they walk into advanced base camp. The two oreads lounge on a flat outcropping. There is a pile of firewood, hay for the yak, and numerous pulled shrubs to pen the beast in. They warmly greet the companions as they enter.

Unloading the yak, the oreads quickly pitch three tents in a tight circle with rocks for a fire pit, and a pen for the yak. They start boiling snow to refill waterskins.

"So now that camp is setup, how do you want to scout? We can join you, we can split into teams, whatever you think is best." comes Burgomaster Draslas's query.

"Thank you for setting all this up for us, Burgomaster!"

Thank you for setting all this up for us, Game Master!

Arimar looks around the camp with a grin on his face. "Well, I can't think of anyone less suited to scoping out an area than me. Perhaps I and anyone else noisy can hang back while the more silent members of our party - perhaps including you or your rangers - scout ahead. We shouldn't be more than a hundred feet or so behind, just in case you run into trouble, but Gwen can set up a message-ing system so that we can quietly communicate over such distances. When we have the 'all clear' for an area, I can lumber into it with my size twelve boots. Sound good?"

The paladin looks to the rest of the party and waggles his shiny, plate-covered leg noisily for emphasis.

Burgomaster Draslas laughs as Arimar clinks in his armor. "Well spoken. My men and I will range forth. These two will stay back at camp. There are a few ruins nearby that might be a suitable location for their eerie. Do any of you know about Pazuzu, the demon lord of winged creatures? Besides the harpy's stench, that is the best way to spot an eerie.

"My men and I will get you to within 300 feet of the ruins, but you are on your own after that." states Draslas as he palms his earplugs. "Are you sure you want them in now? There are more dangers on this mountain than just Harpies and Giants."

Ready when you are.

"Okay, we'll put them in when we get close to a likely spot for an eerie, then," Arimar nods, "Though I haven't had much luck with noticing things as it is anyway." A wry grin creeps its way onto his lips as he remembers Gwen chasing the goat.

"Kaddren, any chance you could have some prestidigitation handy?" Arimar asks, "If we clear out an eerie and take the harpies' things to plant in a giant camp, I'd rather not leave any evidence behind. Pretty sure that spell can clean up anything." He gives the arcanist a knowing wink.

Okay, good to go, I think!

Benaiah lets out a boisterous laugh, clapping Milton, one of the Oread rangers, hard on the back. Milton returns the laughter as the two share in a joke at some poor souls expense.

"But seriously, You and your men don't need this alchemical stuff to get stronger and fitter. I didn't start that way, and wouldn't have gotten this far if that was the only thing I did. You are the leader of those boys back there. You've got to be relentless on them, as hard as Arimar was in drills. One day it will save your lives." he finishes, standing up and heading back towards the Burgomaster when he gathers the group.

"I'm in the same boat as Arimar." Benaiah adds, rattling his plate mail in a similar fashion to the paladin's. Decidedly less regal, and much more dark, the rattling noise is equally distracting.

"Though I'll trust in my eyes to look out for dangers, and keep these earplugs in. Nothing like carrying the best defense against a harpy and not having it in your ears when you need it the most." he says with a smirk.

Good to Go! - Plan is for Kaddran and/or Gwen to scout ahead, possibly with the oread rangers. Benaiah and Arimar about a hundred feet behind.