"Geez, Eris, I think you broke it," Brogol smirks, wrapping his bladed scarf around the Hound's head and twisting.
The hound's mind clears and it wastes no time in attempting to extricate itself. It rolls off the bridge to fall toward the ground. The rapid roll fools Eris and Brogol, but not Ingrid. It falls with far less elegance to the ground, impacting with a heavy thud.
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol (12 dmg)
Ingrid (4 dmg)
Eris
Hound (36 dmg, disarmed)
”No ye don’t.” Ingrid said as it tried to flee
Ingrid connects with her attack, but the blow does little more than bruise it. Rather than expiring when the hound hits the ground, it unsteadily rises to its feet. Eris' bolt thuds into the ground next to it.
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol (12 dmg)
Ingrid (4 dmg)
Eris
Hound (38 dmg, disarmed)
Brogol's mouth drops open as the hound somehow twists free and throws itself from the balcony. No thought crosses through Brogol's mind, instead just a pure impulse, driven by rage at the idea of the hound getting away. Instead, the driver mutters "Patch me up" and leaps from the tree fort, aiming to land on their enemy's head...
Brogol collides directly with the hound, but his fall is somewhat awkward and impacts the hound's head at an awkward angle that badly bruises the rogue. From above, you see the hound buckle under the impact for a moment, before throwing Brogol off and righting itself. Though badly injured, the blow isn't quite enough to knock it unconscious.
Brogol, for his part, finds his fall partly broken by hitting a soft target, but still gets the wind knocked out of him from the impact and ends up prone.
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol (16 dmg, prone)
Ingrid (4 dmg)
Eris
Hound (38 dmg, disarmed)
Seeing that the creature was still alive, Ingrid sent her mace flying towards it. Sadly, given the angle, actually hitting it was beyond her.
As the mace impacts the ground nearby, the hound takes a careful step away from Brogol. It speaks out in a clear voice "This is not over, villains!" and moments later it vanishes.
Combat over... for now!
Brogol pushes himself to his feet, and makes his unsteady way back up to the others, limping a bit as he approaches. "Oi, can you touch me with that wand a couple of times, Eris? What do you all think? They'll be prepared for us now. Do we push on?"
”They’re ready for us. But to retreat now means that any evidence here will go with them. Our duty says that we should see this through.” Ingrid replied.
Brogol is able to clamber back up the ladder and to make his way through the treetops once more to rejoin the party. As he's catching up, the two other villains can hear the faint sounds of voices to the north-east. It sounds like very few remaining indeed.
”So. Ready to finish this?” Ingrid asked the other two.
”All good.” Ingrid said with a smile. ”But I’ll be needin’ it after the next dance without a doubt.”
Sighing as his wounds knit shut, Brogol grabs his scarf and looks to the north-east, towards the voices, and then to the southeast. "All right then. Let's go. Should we look into the room nearby before we head towards the voices?"
Before heading further into the fort, Brogol doubles back and carefully crosses to the tightrope to the two rooms on the southern end of the central platform. Both appear to be living quarters with bedrolls and small chests for storage. Kicking open the chests, Brogol finds clothing and personal effects, but nothing that appears particularly useful. He crosses back over and rejoins the group.
Without the implacable hound to block your advance, you cross the south-eastern bridge and then take the second bridge northward into the boughs of the next mighty tree. The hut built within the branches here seems almost organic, as if the tree itself grew the walls and floor.
You enter the first room and find it set up as a sort of makeshift infirmary. The walls are the pale green of exposed, living wood. A banner bearing a sword-and-sunburst symbol decorates one wall, overlooking a pair of simple straw mattresses on the floor. Curtains hang in doorways to the west and north, and a small footlocker sits in the northwest corner. Two rebels lie on the mattresses, flushed and feverish. They don't stir as you enter, but you see their chests rising and falling slowly.
”Good. Prisoners who can’t flee. We can send men to collect them at our leisure.” Ingrid commented.
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Eris looks at the two rebels with a measure of disgust.
"Look at them--sweating in our new tree fort! Now that our house is burnt down, this will have to be our new house, and I don't want anyone sweating in here! Gross! Should I toss them overboard?" she wonders.
The cleric turns then her short attention span toward the room to the west.
Eris hears the creaking of branches coming from the west. It seems somewhat strange though, as though the creaking is quite close, rather than coming from outside the room's window. The curtain blocking sight of the western room ripples slightly in the draft through the tree house.
Frowning, Brogol pulls the banner down, letting it drift to the floor and making sure to stomp his bloody, muddy boot on it as he goes to inspect the two sleeping men.
"What d'ya reckon they've come down with?"
Brogol raises his finger to his mouth a quick silent shhh signaled, and then pointing to Ingrid and then the curtain, a raised shrug of the shoulders. You first?
With Brogol's warning, Ingrid pushes abruptly through the western curtain and comes face to face (or more face-to-navel) with a tall, verdant figure partway up through the room's floor. The man's body appears to be made of wood, and his hair is a crown of leaves. He holds a spiked club in one hand a natural bow over his shoulder. A soft, whispery voice leaves his mouth. "Oh, its you." The rustling noise from earlier appears to be coming from his 'hair'.
The room beyond him is some sort of meeting chamber. A sizable table shaped from a bough growing through the floor fills the center of this room, while an elaborate tapestry woven from living ivy adorns the southern wall. A door exits the room to the west, while a curtained doorway allows egress to the east.
===================
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol
Ingrid
Eris
??? Woody figure
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”As last words go...” Ingrid said as she stepped forward to attack ”…I’ve heard worse.”
Claws and jaws cut into the woody flesh of the strange humanoid. While Ingrid's first claw scrapes along the surface, the next two attacks draw sap. Both blows are slowed by the toughness of its flesh. Eris stumbles and only touches the chair with her madness.
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol
Ingrid
Eris
??? Woody figure (10 dmg)
Brogol slips between his comrades and then around the tree, unwinding his scarf as he goes. Lashing out with all his strength, Brogol sees if he has better luck drawing sap than his companion.
-
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol (14 dmg)
Ingrid
Eris
??? Woody figure (21 dmg)
The enemy couldn’t be flanked, but he had nowhere to go. Ingrid did not let up the assault, as she slashed and bit without pause.
The driver had taken a beating these last few days, being burned, knocked unconscious, bludgeoned, stabbed, and generally beaten. Rage builds in Brogol as once again he's attacked, the bark-man's spiked club sticking through Brogol's weathered armor. Whipping his scarf at the bark-man, Brogol does his best to return the favor.
The woody figure morosely says "My poor grove. If I fall here... what will become of it..." as he swings at Ingrid. His spiked club crushes her shoulder before he pulls back into a defensive posture. "Burned... burned to ash. I see the fire in your eyes."
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol (14 dmg)
Ingrid (12 dmg)
Eris
??? Woody figure (30 dmg)
”Why would we touch yer Fookin’ grove?” Ingrid hissed as she made a defensive swipe with a claw. ”Ye be the one who joined a fight that doesn’t concern ye!”
Brogol sneers, rearing back with his scarf again. "Exactly, Ingrid! We're definitely gonna burn it now though!"
Brogol has more luck, cutting another gash that leaks pale sap. The woody figure is slowing, but isn't out of the fight quite yet. "Not while I live. You'll not burn it down!" The figure swings wildly, weapon bouncing off Ingrid's armor.
|||| INIT ||||
Brogol (14 dmg)
Ingrid (12 dmg)
Eris
??? Woody figure (36 dmg)
As usual, Ingrid was covered in gore. Both her’s and her victims’. Without bothering to bandy words she leapt at the enemy, claws out and teeth barred. She figured that having some vegetables was part of a balanced diet…
Brogol swings his scarf again, frowning as the woody man still stands. How much punishment could one tree guy take?
Eris' sickle cuts the shallowest of gashes, but its Brogol that manages to deal the killing blow. His scarf carves chips of wood out that clatter to the floor. The woody figure falls to his knees and coughs out a "No! Not... yet." before losing consciousness.
Combat Over!
With the dryad dealt with, you're able to take a look around the meeting room you found them in. The majority of the maps and notes scattered around the room cover the local area and discuss logistics of supplying the Fort. The documents are careful to not use the names of individual revolutionaries or discuss the specifics of future plans, but they nevertheless provide some insight into the group's thought processes.
This information is probably quite valuable to the Archbaron, and you expect you might be able to get yourself a tidy bonus for it (200 gp).
You also find a small alcove in the southern portion of the room, which contains dozens of small asymmetrical cavities, most of which hold pale seeds the size of a human fist. The few that don't hold seeds instead hold some other interesting objects. An earthen jug, a masterwork elven curve blade, a battered spellbook bound in black leather, and a worn wolf skull dyed with slightly luminous blue paint.
Brogol rummages through the papers, rolling and stuffing anything relevant into his boot. The Archbaron would be pleased, and Brogol could practically taste that knighthood. So close. "Let's clear the rest of this place out and let Fex know. Also," Brogol stabs a gloved finger down onto one of the papers, a map. "This map has a tiny symbol of Iomedae marked at a location within the Aspodell Mountains. Citadel Dinyar. I'm pretty sure that citadel belongs to the Hellknight Order of the Godclaw."
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Eris shrugs at all the stuff they have found except for the wolf skull. She holds up the dyed cranium and holds it across from her father's skull.
"Look, Dad. A friend! The two of you can watch for us and make sure none of these self-righteous blowhards sneaks past us, okay?"
Her father's skull floats at her shoulder passively, shedding green light in the room as a macabre lantern.
"Well, my father agrees we should finish clearing this place out--let's do it!"
Eris and Brogol lead the way through the northern curtain.
A plain straw bed rests against the wall here beneath a number of simple shelves. Several helmets, each one sculpted with the somber face of a steel angel, stare down at the room from the shelves. Each helm is visored and of exceptionally fine make.
The room is otherwise empty, though a door to the west lies slightly ajar. When you peek through it, you see a small balcony and rope bridge to a final structure housed in the boughs of the northern tree. In contrast to the simple dwellings you've crossed before, small windows of frosted glass adorn its walls. Its clear that some love and care has been put into it.
"That's it," Brogol whispers, "The head of the snake. Shall we cut it off?" Odds were, whoever was there knew they were coming. But a little caution wouldn't hurt. Brogol moves as quietly as he can across the rope bridge.