Cedric joins in the effort to make the cavern look lived-in.
Lily starts making dummies to look the part at a distance.
Atop the relevant section of the ravine, Thorek coordinates with Cyrioul, following the elf's engineering advise & driving stakes into the dirt to loosen a section of earth above the cave.
to help figure out the best way to set traps and where
Boudra sets to work creating a fake appearance of lived-in qualities for the cavern.
Bree and Thorek successfully rig the ravine wall above the cave opening to collapse and seal the entrance when triggered. Boudra and Cedric build a fire pit beside the stream, and they leave many human-sized footprints coming and going through the cavern mouth.
Lily's work on dummies is commendable, but more work will be needed to disguise the rigged deadfall. If the Ironfangs bring any scouts or bugbear hunters with them, you fear that they will be able to spot the trap.
Cyrioul assists as best he can with hiding the trap...
...but is only of marginal help. I'm afraid that I'm all ideas, not much for practical application in this scenario, my friends.
Thorek's work with foliage and underbrush helps disguise the deadfall trap, and Bree contacts a natural pigment to make the dummies' "skin" look healthy and alive. These final touches maximize the chances of your ruse succeeding.
The trap and plan are set. Now all that remains is to lure your enemy into the cavern.
"Well its now or never. Shall we ambush them and make our retreat into our "base"," she says while readying her bow.
Brushing the dust from his palms and stepping back to admire his handiwork, Thorek nods in agreement with Lily. "I think so. We're agreed on a strike agains the watchtower, lighting it and as many tents alight as we can, then retreating to our fallback here and turning the ambush?"
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"Let's get this show on the road," says Cedric, nodding.
Agreed - if we're ready, let's do this now. Cyrioul takes a moment to refresh his memory on his spells, and gets ready for the assault, particularly getting ready the vanish spell so that he can help someone get as close as possible without being seen.
Boudra swallows, looking nervous, but nods.
With the ravine trap set and night falling, the party travels in a curving, westward path to cautiously approach the Ironfang forward camp.
A thin, waning crescent of moonlight leers above, leaving the forest awash in long, jagged shadows. You pause outside the observed radius of the camp's patrols to cast your spells and make final preparations.
"Should I stay here? I don't wish to endanger the mission and have no skill at stealth."
I can go, Boudra signs. In the dark I might be able to get nearly to the watchtower. I'm just not going to go alone!
Bree smiles and signs back, Would not dream of sending you alone.
" Count me in. If we die. We die together."
Cedric will plan to hang back with Thorek. He's also not stealthy at all, especially not while wearing his armor. He keeps the sound burst ready in his mind in case he needs to cover his allies from range.
The party members who sneak forward pause among a thick stand of trees and brush as they spot an approaching patrol. A pair of hobgoblin scouts escort a large, wicked looking black wolf. They skulk by, passing within 60 feet of your hiding spot.
The wolf creature sniffs at the night air, but thankfully you are downwind, and its keen senses do not notice your presence against the stronger odors wafting over from the camp beyond. Once the patrol has passed a safe distance, you continue forward until you are nearly on the edge of the ravine cradling the camp.
You avoid the thicket of briars and brambles along the ravine's southern verge, both to avoid making excess noise but also to avoid their painful sting. This places you among the treeline that stops short of the wide clearing cut in the forest by the ravine. The watchtower stands some eighty feet ahead of you, dimly lit by moonlight and the faint glow of the campfire below.
Through the low-light of the moon and stars, Cyrioul observes that there are two Ironfang scouts manning the watchtower.
Furthermore, one of them appears to be asleep at his post.
Cyrioul whispers to his friends It is a good time to strike. One is even sleeping! I'll make myself invisible, and run forward to put the alchemist's fire in place. Let me get a little bit away from you when I cast it, or you all go ahead a bit, and then I'll cast it so I don't draw anyone towards you with my words. Ready!
The watchtower stands across the forest clearing at the head of the ravine. Only one of the sentries keeps watch as his comrade dozes, leaning against a corner of the watchtower.
Lily, Bree, Boudra, and Cyrioul creep forward, keeping low and sticking to swathes of the night's deeper shadows. Each soft sigh of scrub grass beneath your feet stokes the rising anxiety in your chest, worried that at any moment an alarm will go up and arrows will begin to fly.
After agonizingly long moments, the four infiltrators stand in the lee of the watchtower. The wakeful sentry peers to the north, keeping watch for enemies while danger, in fact, approaches from the south.
Lily looks at the others nervously and starts lighting it on fire very carefully not to draw attention to herself immediately.
I thought the plan was to seize the watchtower, fire down into the camp for a bit, then torch the tower as we retreated?
But! Thorek isn't there, so don't let me gainsay you :)
Boudra raises her crossbow and gestures toward the stairs, trying to inquire as to whether the group should proceed up the watchtower.
There is a rope ladder that would normally lead up to the opening in the floor of the watchtower, but it sits coiled up at the top. However, the bottom end of the rope ladder has slipped down slightly, offering the chance to pull it down quietly.
Lily tries to carefully grab the ladder but comes up short trying to jump and reach the ladder.
Cyrioul does his best to quietly cast Mage Hand so that he can guide the ladder slowly down towards the party. If he makes a ruckus, he abandons subterfuge, and just gets the ladder down quickly.
Lily remains as quiet as a shadow as she leaps up, but she is unable to reach the coiled ladder. The verbal components of Cyrioul's spell do not remain muffled enough, and the alert sentry atop the watchtower turns and looks down the hatch to investigate as the ladder seems to unfurl itself.
From this vantage point, you can also see that a large bronze bell hangs from the beams supporting the tower's canopy, and a hammer sits on a narrow table. The sentry is about to discover Cyrioul, and he will surely ring the bell and alert the camp if he is not stopped.
Well, crap. Should have cast vanish first. Sorry, all!
Seeing the wakeful hobgoblin turn and begin to peer toward her friends, Boudra raises her crossbow and takes a desperate shot, hoping to put him down before he can raise the alarm!
for
The sentry crouches to peer down the hatch, but before he can discover the source of the disturbance, he finds a crossbow bolt embedded in his stomach. The wound does not kill him, but it sucks the wind from his lungs and steals the breath he might use to shout in pain and alarm.
He turns sharply and looks the hanging bell, then his eyes dart to the hammer, then back to the bell.
Cyrioul snatches a pat of butter from his component pouch and speaks a word of power, causing slippery grease to form all over the hammer on the table!