After looking at the cost of materials for a bear trap, Fin mentions to Drake, "I'm not sure it is worth the cost. Trying to lure someone into it is a huge gamble at best. I'll pick up a couple of smokesticks to provide some shelter against that sniper when we are moving out in the open field."
Thinking on it a moment, "Fair enough. We'll leave it then."
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Nodding to his fellow ranger, "Sounds good. Thanks, Noala, for all of your help."
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Looking to them all, Drake takes a deep breath. "Okay, let's do it. Here goes nothing." Just as he's about to head to the rope, he pauses before he takes a single step and looks back to the others. "I just want to make one thing clear ... we're winning this time. Lives depend on it." Looking at Niss, he leans in and kisses her strong before placing a hand on her cheek and saying, "For luck." Smiling, he turns and moves out. "Let's go. This is our time."
"One problem... I'm not very good at climbing. What if I can't make it up? It took them a while to open the gate last time. I'd hate to be stuck outside and slowing you all down."
Drake kisses her for luck and she smiles. "You won't need luck. I'll have your back."
She hurries across the clearing as well, but as predicted, flops around like a fish at the end of its line when she tries climbing behind Drake.
With Finoan's guidance, the rest of The Princess Guard were able to make it over the wall without making enough noise to attract attention, although Drake scrabbled down and fell prone and Niss landed nearby, accidentally smacking her husband in her face with a foot. It seemed that they hadn't been noticed, for now.
You can see two guards by the gate, but nobody else.
Finoan follows Baradim over the wall and lands gently on the other side.
He looks over and notices that the Orcs guarding the wall haven't noticed them yet. "Good job falling quietly. We need to find some place defensible so that we don't get swarmed. Guard tower with the sniper, or take our chances with the barracks?"
Fin will lead the way in which ever direction they head towards.
"I say guard tower with the sniper. The last thing we need is one of them snapping off arrows at us freely. They'll just pick us apart if we don't."
Niss flashes Drake a wince of apology at landing on his face, picking herself up quietly and following them towards the sniper tower. It's a good plan, and a defensible position she could rain down destruction from, but she worried about having to run across open ground unseen to get there.
Drake kisses her for luck and she smiles. "You won't need luck. I'll have your back."
Smiling at her, he nods. "And glad for it." He winks.
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Niss flashes Drake a wince of apology at landing on his face, picking herself up quietly and following them towards the sniper tower. It's a good plan, and a defensible position she could rain down destruction from, but she worried about having to run across open ground unseen to get there.
Grinning, he waves her off, letting her know it's no big deal. He takes her hand and helps her up.
The orc leaps up, grabbing ahold of the hanging corpse's rope before hand over hand scaling upwards. The smell of death does little to deter him from his goal as he scales over the top of wall like creeping death.
Nodding with the others, he would move to follow Finoan with sword and shield drawn across the open territory and towards the darkened shelter of the tower. It would limit the effect of their numbers and provide a space for both himself and the others to rain down pain upon those unwilling to surrender.
As the group creeps forward in the early morning light, Finoan notices that they're getting away with this because the two orcs at the front are dozing off on duty.
The stairs on the tower lead up to a closed door. Finoan can hear voices speaking in Orcish come through, but the automaton isn't sure what they're talking about.
There seems to be nothing strange about the door, should Finoan inspect it.
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As the group creeps forward in the early morning light, Finoan notices that they're getting away with this because the two orcs at the front are dozing off on duty.
As they head up the stairs, Fin remarks to no one in particular, "It is so hard to enslave good help these days. Something about all the competent slaves leaving."
Finoan listens at the doorway for a moment. "Orcish. I can recognize the language now, but I still can't understand it. Baradim, you want to try listening? Or should we just bust in there?"
Baradim gives a nod, moving up beside the door to listen in as best as he could. He would translate what he heard to the others, his eyes focused on the tired guards up above.
"...So, what do you up think about the idea for dealing with more intruders?" A masculine voice asks. Several moments pass without an answer and Baradim can hear the deep voice start to speak again before he's cut off by a sharp, feminine voice.
"You must stop talking to me. Go check the windows." The feminine voice says, her voice a mix of annoyance and demand.
Baradim can hear booted feet begin to walk toward the window. "Ugh, they're asleep, I think." The man sounds exasperated.
"Then go wake them up, fool. We don't want to be ambushed."
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As they head up the stairs, Fin remarks to no one in particular, "It is so hard to enslave good help these days. Something about all the competent slaves leaving."
"If they would just offer more competitive benefits. No torture on weekends, maybe, two meals a day instead of one..."
She stood out of the way as Baradim listened and translated, and made ready to attack the orc as soon as the door opened.
He would translate what he heard to the others, his eyes focused on the tired guards up above.
"...So, what do you up think about the idea for dealing with more intruders?"
"You must stop talking to me. Go check the windows."
"Ugh, they're asleep, I think."
"Then go wake them up, fool. We don't want to be ambushed."
"No one does," Finoan quips quietly. "Shall we do so anyway?"
"Baradim, you want to 'help' him open this door? We'll be right behind you."
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"Please. Allow me."
Niss opens the door the way she does most things. She rips it from its hinges and sends it flying towards the orc about to open it, using it to batter him in the face.
"After you!" She gestures for the boys to enter and feels the adrenaline rush -- they were committed to this now, and would see it through to the end this time.
Niss' powerful telekinetic blast rips the doors from the hinges as if she had kicked it in just perfectly, and the orc goes flying back. There's a sickening crunch as both the door and the Orc slam into the wall, splinters flying and bones breaking in a cacophony of destruction.
Graytusk turns her attention to you all calmly, her hand on her shortsword, and raises an eyebrow. "You all again?" She makes a frustrated noise and moves to draw her sword.
All of you can tell that her demeanor is not so much calm, but dazed--as if she's under the influence of something.
Fin looks on in mild awe as Niss rips the door down and blasts it into the Orc headed their way.
"Surprise!" he calls out.
Finoan takes a good look at Graytusk.
Not finding an opening that he really likes, he simply ◆saunters into the room, stopping just out of easy reach of the Orc. "Thralls these days have no work ethic, wouldn't you say? Look at this guy - laying down on the job. Back in my day, us serfs would work all day and most of the night without any rest at all. And how about you - dipping into the company issued drugs a bit heavily, aren't you?"
Then Fin casts ◆ Shield in anticipation of Gratusk's retorts to his verbal jibes.
Graytusk blinks heavily and grimaces in response to the automaton's jab, huffing with humorless laughter. "You don't know how Vilree keeps us under control, then?" The orc shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her hand grasping the hilt of her shortsword. She's wound tight, but her stance is defensive.
The door goes crashing down as Niss's psionic power comes crashing forward. Coming in after Finoan, Baradim's towering form stands tall amidst the room. His eyes lock upon Graytusk and he readies his shield, stepping in closer towards her. He readies his blade but he flips it to the flat of the blade.
"I assume her alchemical concoctions keep you pliable. That or addicted." Baradim grunts before swinging his blade to catch her off-guard with it. "You spared us last time but our work is not done. Those who surrender will be given the same mercy. Vilree's work must be stopped!"
"I assume her alchemical concoctions keep you pliable. That or addicted."
"Probably both." Fin looks shrewdly at Graytusk. "Don't tell me - did she give you the line about how you will literally die if you don't get your dosages? Because that is such a classic one."
Drawing his falchion, "You heard our friend here. 'Those who surrender will be given the same mercy', he said. I think you really ought to heed his advice. If you don't... you're going to die." He tells her plainly.
Even in her addled state, the Orcish sniper snorts with amusement at Drake's attempt to intimidate her. She does, however, take the words to heart, especially after Baradim's blow knocks her backward. She snarls at the Lastwall veteran, hand still on the hilt of her blade. With the four of you in front of her, she has a hard time justifying drawing her blade.
"You have me cornered," She says slowly, matter-of-factly. "Some of us believed in her, at the start. We had all been made outsiders at some point or another. She gave us mutagens to make us stronger - most of us are slaves - and we didn't realize until far too late that they had something added. That she's mad. And we might not literally die," she says angrily, glaring at the automaton, "but it feels like it."
The Orcish woman puts her hands up and leans heavily against the wall, surrendering. "Foolish woman. Punish me for letting you escape, make it easier for your enemies to return," Graytusk grumbles.
Niss frowns in sympathy, and speaks quietly. "It shouldn't be difficult to leave, but it is. You want to. You imagine slaying her. You think, I could just walk out that gate right now, she's not here to stop me. But she has a hold over you." She sighs, then smiles. "It's going to be okay. We'll need to tie you up, until we're done here. But once Vilree is dealt with, you'll be free."
Finoan walks over and removes her sword and bow. He slides both of those over to Niss.
"Yes, we have noticed that Vilree isn't the wisest person that we haven't met."
Fin takes some rope and binds Graytusk as securely as he can.
"So when is your next dosage due? Hopefully we can have this entire mess sorted out by then. And we know a couple of people in town that could possibly help with the addiction."
Graytusk doesn't resist, settling herself on a chair to be restrained, and watches them carefully through dark eyes. "She drugged us again last night. It won't be for several days yet."
"I didn't hear anything before. You haven't taken care of Lord Nar. Once a guard finds me up here - and they patrol - I will be freed again. I will not work against you, but it would be wise to take care of them first."
"You haven't taken care of Lord Nar. Once a guard finds me up here - and they patrol - I will be freed again. I will not work against you, but it would be wise to take care of them first."
Fin nods. "Yeah, that is our next stop."
Niss considers the bow and sword. Given time she could try to ascertain whether or not they were magical, but it was time they didn't have. "If we die, you're in a lot of trouble for letting us get past you, right? If we win, you're a free woman. So a few questions. Are these enchanted in any way we might find useful? And what other defenses lie between here and Vilree? What information do you know that we might use to end her? "
Graytusk looks stony-faced at the psychic for a moment and shakes her head. "No, they are not magical. As for the rest, this is my limit. All I will warn you of is that she has been building something down there. Whatever it is...it is grotesque." The orcish woman shivers involuntarily and then shakes her head again, relaxing into the chair she's bound to. "That's all you get from me."
"Right. The crazy lady making mutated animals is building something grotesque. Very helpful. Thanks."
She looked to the others. "Plans for the barracks? Should we handle the two sleeping at the gate, first?"
"Plans for the barracks? Should we handle the two sleeping at the gate, first?"
"Ideally - we sneak past them again. Fighting them would be noisy and time consuming. Which would give Lord Nar time to prepare for us."
"If we try to sneak past and fail, we aren't in any worse position than before. We do still have to choose whether to fight them first or to ignore them and blitz the barracks before they are ready."
Drake thinks on it for a long moment, feeling like they are caught between a rock and a hard place. Shaking his head, "I don't know. Even if we do sneak past them, we're still going to have to deal with them. Would it be better to deal with them now? Or do we all prefer later? Can't disregard Fin's point though. If we fight them now, then Lord Nar will have plenty of time to prepare for us. So, with that said, if we attack the barracks, we're going to have to concentrate on Nar. Otherwise, if we let all those mooks take up our attention..." He shakes his head, leaving the rest of it unsaid because they all are aware of how deadly Nar can be.
"The orcs are sleeping, perhaps unarmored and without their weapons nearby. We strike at them where they rest, incapacitate those we can, and I shall distract Lord Nar. I have been preparing for our next encounter against one another." Baradim says, looking down at Graytusk. "We will try to spare those we can. A return for your mercy. Then we shall end the monstrosity that she has created and you have protected."
His attention turns towards Finoan, ready to follow the saboteur back out into the daylight and towards the barracks where their enemies awaited them.
Fin nods. "To the barracks then." He leads the way down the stairs. At the bottom, he plans his path and timing to try and stay out of view and silent as the group crosses the open field.
As Finoan crosses the field, he hears a bit of a snore come from the orcs guarding the doors. The sun is beginning to peek over the keep, and it is a testament to the recklessness of Vilree that her drugs are keeping them in enough of a stupor to stay dozing while the sunshine is about to hit their faces.
Following Fin's lead, The Princess Guard can easily slip by and into the wooden hut that houses Lord Nar's throne and the barracks.
In the center of this wooden hut is a massive stone throne. It is crudely carved with howling orc faces, the chair clearly intended to intimidate. Flanking it on the walls of the hut are two massive leather canvases featuring rather crude, simplistic paintings. One the left is an image of a mountain peak with an orc head howling up at it from a great cavern at the mountain's heart. On the right is the image of a tall, sender woman with black hair. Her ears suggest elven or half-elven heritage. In one hand, she holds a large beaker overflowing with green liquid; in the other, she holds naked fire. At the back wall, you all can make out a curtain partly concealing an opening to the cliff face.
Sitting upon the oddly ostentatious throne is Lord Nar, passed out and sloppily drooling along the arm of it.
Fin slinks his way into the room. "I'm guessing he won't surrender while still in one piece. I'll let you two get prepared to change that condition."
Fin pads quietly around to the back of the throne ready to prevent the other orcs from entering.
▸
▸
Cantrips
◆ Shield
◆◆ Spout
◆◆ Produce Flame
1st level
◆◆ Gust of Wind
Niss would normally not condone killing a man in his sleep...but this one nearly killed Drake and Baradim. And he did not seem the sort for talking. She levitated a hatchet free from Drake's belt, but waited to follow Baradim's lead on this.
Glaring at the orc, Gods I hate that guy. Drake breathes a puff of air on the edge of his falchion and raises it high. Looking at the others, he nods 'ready' before bringing it down hard toward his skull.
Just as he starts to bring the blade down, his sweaty palms from his nerves cause him to lose the handle, and in a panic, fumbles to catch it before it drops with a loud clang. Managing to just snag it, Drake breathes a HUGE sigh of relief. Taking a moment to collect himself, he raises the blade back up again and manages to keep a hold of it on his next swing.
Baradim would quietly enter into the throne room of Lord Nar, his eyes taking in the scenes of dedication upon the wall before focusing upon the slouched, sleeping figure that was Lord Nar himself. Drawing his weapon in hand, he would approach quietly and level his blade at the orc's chest.
Killing in cold blood was not his preference but Baradim's mind was not focused on what was honorable, what was gentlemanly, or acceptable. In war, all that mattered was victory and sparing those that were innocent. Lord Nar was a fervent follower; his death would rattle the rest of the orcs. With his blade becoming still, he drives forward with every bite of strength that he has.
Drake and Niss hack into Lord Nar, the pain from their blows waking the sleeping orc quite quickly. The orc shouts in pain, eyes taking time to focus before seeing Baradim's face in front of him. "Hnnngggg...you!" He growls, snarling furiously at Baradim.
The sleeping orcs don't hear his shout, for now.
Fin hears Nar growl and hopes that the other Orcs in the complex didn't. He scans around and looks for all of the weapons in the room - especially for the oversized stick that Nar was hitting people with earlier.
Fin ◆steps over to where the large Orc has his large club sitting and tries to take it without him noticing.
He then casts ◆ Shield in order to protect himself a bit from the big guy.
Not wanting to give the orc a chance to recover, Drake attacks him with everything he has.
While Drake attacks Lord Nar again, Finoan manages to sneak up and snatch the orc's greatclub. The orc manages to dodge one of the attacks but the falchion slices two deep gashes into the massive Lord's torso.
Lord Nar stands up from the throne, looking around at his feet where his greatclub should lay. He looks up, spotting Finoan holding a greatclub far too large for his small body. "Hey!" He shouts, taking a swing with his fist at the automaton.
But the automaton dodged smoothly out of the large orc's way.
Niss was not usually this close to the action, but the room was small and there wasn't much room to back up. She winced as she brought the hatchet back around, chopping into the half orc again, not really wanting to see the gory result of all the attacks.
"Hey!" He shouts, taking a swing with his fist at the automaton.
Finoan grins mockingly as he dodges punches. "Well, you weren't using this. Finders keepers. And no take-bakcsies."
Niss's flying hatchet slices into the orc and he snarls with rage at both the hit and Finoan's goading--Lord Nar stumbles and is breathing heavily, having suffered quite a bit of damage from the group's ambush.
Between Finoan stealing his club and The Princess Guard's coordinated attacks, Lord Nar finds himself pummeled to near death with only his Orcish heritage keeping him alive. The large man stumbles from all the hits, looking as though he is going to go unconscious, but finds a well of strength within to hold on just a little...bit...longer.
Fin takes a good look at the Orc. He recognizes the strain of keeping himself alive that he saw the last time they fought him. "You don't look so good. How about you just lay back down. We really don't feel like killing you."
Finoan also keeps his ◆shield up just in case something unexpected happens.
Baradim looks down at the once proud Lord Nar, ambushed and disarmed, before he flipped his sword around in his hands. The vicious being was incredibly dangerous, incredibly deadly, and there was part of him that simply wanted to end the threat. Instead though, he would bring that pommel downwards.
"A debt paid." Baradim would mutter, taking out his rope and moving to begin tying the barbarian lord up.