With the decision to rest at Warbal's camp, the heroes make their way out of Citadel Altaerein.
They arrive at the camp, and Warbal looks at the lot of them with concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?! What happened in there? Despite her concern, she starts setting up areas where they can rest and get some food ready.
Futin takes a seat and shakes his head sadly. I'm sorry Warbal...we were beset upon by vicious creatures at every turn! There was a massive bugbear that nearly cut Talina in half! There were spiders...so many spiders. He shivers. We...couldn't go any further without resting first and getting back some of our abilities.
He hangs his head, then looks up. We will go back in Warbal...we'll finish what we started.
Vill nodded in agreement and said wearily, "Yeah, we need rest, if we push on we're going to get killed. The keep will still be there tomorrow."
When they reached the goblin encampment Villar found a spot and collapsed to the ground leaning back against a tree for support. "You wouldn't happen to know who raised those spiders would you? I owe them a significant amount of pain for that..." He sat up a bit and then slumped back, "Or maybe just a thorough talking too."
Cicero echos the other's sentiments and offers to watch until nightfall as he looks to be in the best health.
Picking her own spot Talina collapses as well. Looking up at the sky an idea struck her.
Getting up on one elbow she asked the goblin, "Warbel, you're pretty knowledgable about things correct?"
Futin takes a seat and shakes his head sadly. I'm sorry Warbal...we were beset upon by vicious creatures at every turn! There was a massive bugbear that nearly cut Talina in half! There were spiders...so many spiders. He shivers. We...couldn't go any further without resting first and getting back some of our abilities.
He hangs his head, then looks up. We will go back in Warbal...we'll finish what we started.
Warbal nods at Futin as she listens to the sad story, handing him a bowl of stew. "It is okay, Futin. No one expects you to be heroes of legend in one day. I'm sure even they had to stop to treat their wounds."
When they reached the goblin encampment Villar found a spot and collapsed to the ground leaning back against a tree for support. "You wouldn't happen to know who raised those spiders would you? I owe them a significant amount of pain for that..." He sat up a bit and then slumped back, "Or maybe just a thorough talking too."
As she passes Villar his own bowl of stew, Warbal pauses to think a moment. "I do not know of anyone raising spiders in the keep. The Bumblebrashers kept to the lower level before all this happened, and I rarely ever actually went into the keep. My meetings with Helba were always on the road between Breachill and the keep. There are probably many creatures in there that just found the place as a suitable shelter."
Picking her own spot Talina collapses as well. Looking up at the sky an idea struck her.
Getting up on one elbow she asked the goblin, "Warbel, you're pretty knowledgable about things correct?"
"I am not a scholar, persay," Warbal responds, passing a bowl of stew to Talina, "but I have learned some things outside what the average goblin cares to know. What is on your mind?"
Cicero echos the other's sentiments and offers to watch until nightfall as he looks to be in the best health.
Warbal passes a bowl of stew to Cicero, "Rest, friend. I will watch you all, for now, and wake you for watches."
Turning to Cicero, "Give her those vials, see if she knows what they are."
The swordswoman started eating her stew.
"I'm no alchemist," she says, looking at the vials handed to her, "but I can certainly see what I can do."
"Well," she reports after studying the items for a short time, "This clear liquid seems to be simple holy water. The substance in the jar, if I'm not mistaken, is what alchemists call bottled lightning, though a very weak version of it. The others, I can't be certain of. Hopefully that helps."
Futin smiles weakly. You're the best Warbel. We wouldn't be able to do this without you.
After some time at rest, Futin will once again try to see to everyone's wounds. Though he seems to be getting better at it, he still fumbles with the bandages on Villar. Sorry, Villar. I'll try again in a bit.
Taking one of the Holy Waters Talina replied, "It certainly is helpful. Thank you Warbel."
After finishing her stew the guardswoman pulled the two training weapons and inspected them closely. They were in pretty good shape considering how old they probably were.
Getting to her feet and looking over at the catfolk, "Futin, come here a moment will you?"
"Thank you Warbel." Cicero says as he settles back and begins to slowly sip his stew.
Futin rolls up to his feet without the customary spring in his step. He looked at Talina, suddenly wary. Oh, now I did it...she's going to kill me. Willing to take the beating for his missteps, Futin bravely steps towards her, only flinching once or twice as she moves.
Y-yes, Talina? Can I..help?
Offering him the handle of one of the practice blades, "I would like to teach you how to use one of these, if you're willing."
Futin's eyes light up, and he grins. Well...of course! Anything I can do to get better at... He gestures at all of their various wounds. ...this. I'd gladly learn a few things, just...be gentle. He pauses a moment, perhaps considering the implications of this "training", but takes his stance anyway. Have at thee!
Vill gave Futin a nod of appreciation despite his failure and said, "Thanks for trying anyway." He sat and rested and watched then as Futin and Talina began to train.
Talina looked over his stance, which for his sickle was not a bad stance, but for a sword......
"Before we come to 'blows', let's make sure you have a solid foundation first."
She stepped to the side of Futin, placed her hands on his shoulders and adjusted his feet with her foot. "Proper foot placement will serve you better in long run. Now lets talk about your grip."
Guiding his hands to the proper placement on the hilt, she continued, "Now, I'm going to show you three basic guards. Just stand there a moment."
Going over and picking up the other practice blade Talina took the same stance as Futin, "The first guard is what is called Middle Guard," Holding the blade with its point about level with the top of her head. She waited for Futin to mimic before moving on to the next, this time the blade held high above her head, "This is the High Guard," She brought the blade down pointing the tip at Futin's feet, "This is the Low Guard. From any of these guards you should be able to deflect most incoming blows from your vitals. There are advantages and disadvantages to all three. I'll show you."
Over the next hour the Guardswoman slowly made several attacks at various angles showing the strengths and weaknesses of each guard as well as how to transition to each one effectively.
Futin went through each stance to the best of his ability, trying not to show his immense lack of training. Like this! No, wait...like this. He nods, then wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist.
Though he tries to keep pace with Talina, he always lags behind and looks frantic as he moves to parry. Within only minutes, he's sweaty and winded.
This...is...much....heavier...than the sickle!
Clasping Futin on the shoulder, "Yes it is. You'll get there with practice. Enough time goes by you won't notice the weight."
Taking back the practice blade, she resecured both of them back onto her pack. Sitting down and looking back up at the cat-man, "We'll train more tomorrow."
Futin, chest heaving even with the light exertion, sits down as well. Thanks Talina! I can't say I got better, but at least I understand it better. How you can swing that thing around all day, I may never get.
He looks a bit pensive, then speaks in a lower tone. I don't know if it would have helped me against those spiders though...you...you used your shield against them, right? Did that...work?
"I've been swinging a sword for nearly a decade now. It's just a question of repetition of practice. You'll get there with enough."
"As for the spiders, I figured a larger flat area would work better than a narrow edged one in killing more of them at once. Looks like I was more or less right."
Futin nods, then smiles. Seems like I've got a lot of learning left to do. Thank you Talina; I...I will do better tomorrow, I promise. I'll let those more experienced go first. But, I will always be there to back you up! He looks down at his hip and pats his sickle. With this...for now.
As Cicero sees Talina and Futin moving and realizes what Talina has planned he shifts around the camp to get a good angle to watch from. He then passively watched them and murmurs under his breath to Fawn, talking about the progress of the day and comparing notes.
The heroes mend their wounds and rest their weary bodies, and the night passes uneventfully. Futin’s dreams are filled with swarms of tiny little red spiders, which causes him to stir some in his sleep, but otherwise do not interrupt his rest.
Morning comes, and the group takes some time to break their fast and prepare themselves for another day of adventure.
As they are readying themselves to leave the camp, a familiar goblinoid figure approaches. Helba walks into camp with a small pouch in hand. ”Hello friends! I am so glad that you are here!” the goblin cheif’s face lights up with a grin. ”We took the nasty halfling to the town guard, like you asked, and they sent us back with this for the Heroes of Breachill. That would be you! Rewards for capturing the nasty halfling and for saving the Bumblebrashers!” She hands over the pouch to the nearest hero.
Helba continues her story, ”The guards also wanted to tell you that the council people would like you to report as soon as you are able, so that they can record your good deeds.” Finally finished, she stands there beaming at the group.
The party makes their way back into the keep, back to the training room where they last fought the spiders, looking to continue where they left off.
Futin awakes bright and cheery, though he quickly looks around to check all available crannies for spiders. Seeing none, he grins, and jumps to, checking his gear and weapons and generally miming what Talina does - like a good soldier in training.
Helba, good morning! He grins. Well, we will most surely return their soon, but...you know the life of heroes! Only after the job is done, will we let up.
He smiles again, beaming at the bag of gold. He seems to enjoy the thought of the reward, more than the monetary gain in itself.
Futin whistles to himself as he moves back through the various chambers and halls of the fort, but keeps behind his more knowledgeable companions as they approach the training room.
She quickly moved down the stairs and into a chamber of some kind. It was there that fear gripped her heart. A group of people dressed in strange ceremonial looking garb were kneeling and chanting before a stone dais, atop of which was a black alter and glowing portal behind it. Between the alter and portal stood a man in far more lavish clothing, arms raised leading the chant. Upon the alter was strapped Bastion.
Talina's eyes went red as she drew her sword and charged forward. The cultists stood and blocked her path. Tried as she could, she could not cut them down fast enough before the lead figure on the dais raised a wicked looking dagger and plunged it into her fiancé's chest.
The cultist all fell at once as the portal began to pulse rapidly. From within stepped a gigantic hairy spider, its main eyes staring at her unblinkingly. It simply uttered one word, "Dinner." And began to advance.
The warrior awoke with a start from a terrible nightmare. Looking around and realizing that they were safe she began her morning routine. Sewing the gash in her armor from the Bugbear, making sure the straps on her found shield were secure.
Noticing that Futin was mimicking her routine, she couldn't help but smirk slightly.
It was a rather restful evening and night for Villar. Many of the things he'd seen that day were not pleasant but they weren't the things his nightmares were made of. No, those were taken up by the recent unrest in Kintargo and the horrors that sprang up around it. He took the last watch, the darkest part of the night, since his sight was unhindered by the lack of light and noticed when the others started to wake up. When they started to stir Villar stirred up the fire so they could cook breakfast if they wished and otherwise ate some of the rations he had with him. They weren't the greatest things but they were better than nothing.
When they made their way back to where they had left off in their explorations Villar looked at their choices and asked, "Can anyone recall any doors we didn't check in what we explored yesterday? If so we should go back and check them before we press on."
Futin looks to the west. Did we check the way to the west, or is that where we need to go next? I was a bit...indisposed when last we were here. He looks a bit ashamed.
Moving over to the western door, Talina looked at Villar and nodded her head to indicate to check it for any weirdness.
Back in action, the group makes their way through the Training Hall to the door on the west end.
When Villar goes to check the door, he notices three things:
1) like many of the doors in this place, there doesn't appear to be any traps waiting to go off.
2) the sounds of what might be combat happening on the other side of this door.
3) out of the corner of his eye, he sees what looks like the outline of a secret door in the southwest corner of the training hall.
Villar held his finger up to indicate silence when he heard the sounds of combat on the other side of the door and stepped back gesturing the others close. He spoke just barely loud enough for them to hear as he said, "It sounds like someone is in combat behind that door," he pointed towards the west door and then he pointed to the southwest corner of the training room and said, "and there seems to be a secret door there. It might let into this room where there is fighting and let us see what is going on and decided whether to join in or not and who to side with. Decision?"
Talina thought for a moment, "There's a tactic we used to do in my hometown watch. A situation like this, two would go around to another door while the other two went in the front ready for trouble. I might suggest that Futin and Cicero take the secret door, while you and I, Villar, take this one. You seem to have a way with words so, perhaps you could talk them down?"
Futin nods excitedly. We definitely need a command word then! Something to signify that the negotiations have turned sour. Or, I guess we'd know when everyone draws weapons..
He shrugs and looks to Talina for direction.
"Pumpernickle?" Cicero suggests with a touch of sarcasm in his tone looking at Futin.
Perfect!
Futin nods to himself, seeming not to note the sarcasm.
Delicious too...
Futin moves over to the secret door, his sickle out and ready.
With a nod, Talina moved in front of the door. Looking at Villar, "Stay behind me."
She readied herself to kick in the door.
Futin moves over to the secret door, his sickle out and ready.
The group comes to a consensus to try flanking whatever creatures are duking it out in the next room. Talina gets ready to kick the door down, followed by Villar, while Cicero and Futin go for the recently found secret door.
Cicero and Futin
After having it pointed out by Villar, Cicero is able to find and open the secret door without any issues. Opening the door reveals a well-hidden closet, which seems to hold dust-furred tables covered in jumbled but ominous accessories: pentagram-covered tomes, heavily melted candles, scattered pieces of loose chalk, vats of moldy incense, moth-eaten robes, and several empty and dusty weapon racks.
Villar & Talina
Talina kicks open the door, revealing an odd sight. It's flagstones painted entirely black, this sprawling and irregularly shaped room contains a circular, sunken arena in its middle. The arena's edges are painted deep crimson, and an ominous crimson pentagram fills the center. Within the pentagram, two combatants face off. One of the combatants is a handsome, dark-haired man in matte black armor wielding an heirloom greatsword, moving with confident and assured technique while engaged in combat against a snickering imp. The human seems to have the fight well in hand, though. Just after the door swings open, the human drives his large sword straight through the shrieking thing's heart and into the stone flagstones. The motion reveals a small symbol of a pentagram imprinted into the armor of his shoulder.
The human breaths out a breathe of heavy air just before pulling the sword out of the creature. He starts to turn towards you, when two more of the little devils hiss and drop down from the rafters. "Great," he grumbles in an accented common. "More bloody hell monkeys. Give us a hand, would you?" This last comment he directs to his observers.
Initiative:
Cicero - 25
Villar - 22
Imp 1 - 16
Talina - 15
Imp 2 - 13
Human - 12
Futin - 5