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The Shrine at Redgore Hill
The shrine stands at the border of civilisation. Here a large field rises to a wooded hill which is fronted by a stonewalled barn.
Four years ago, the knights and their vassals destroyed a sizeable goblin horde in a trap. The gleeful goblins attacked a small shield wall of armoured volunteers who held until the cavalry rode in behind and cut down the evil monsters. Stories talk of the nearby river running red for weeks.
The faith of Gorum enshrined the battleground before all remnants of the famous victory faded away.
The barn entrance has two suits of plate armour, wreathed in silver light. Inside the walls are covered in large heroic paintings and the broken and rusted weapons of the horde.
A central aisle is flanked by knightly statues and the captains of the various companies. At the far end are two ragged goblin banners with several dirty human skulls. Between them is an iron wrought brazier, always burning a pile of horde bones.
Telfors
The shrine steward is an aged and limping ex-Hell Knight. He bears a tabard of Gorum and is always seen wearing his Battle Lord’s axe helm.
The party has been requested to gather at the shrine for final orders before they head into the wilderness to take back the Griffin Sire Castle.
As and when the party members arrive they can stay in the tents provided and eat in the mess at the rear (so long as they help out).
Kronag had arrived at Redgore Hill a week earlier. He had known little about his human father until the courier had found him in an army camp a week before that. With all haste, he had recruited a small group to come with him -- each for their own reasons -- to recapture his inheritance.
He had been the first to arrive, and had been staying in the camp. His enthusiasm in his role in Gorum's services had inspired many, but he wanted to keep his party small. Nonetheless, he ate well on the strength of his tales.
Now, wearing his own tabard, Kronag enters the barn, armed and armored, and genuflects in front of Telfors, though with his head held high. In a rumbling voice, he asks, "Your orders?"
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"Your orders, Sir, would be a good start." answers the church official. He limps forwards, his hands still dusting the goblin blade from the wall.
He sighs at the young and thrusting warrior priest. "Forget it. Who the hell are you? and why in the name of Gorum's greatsword are you here? I am Telfors, retired officer and steward of the Redgore shrine."
"Then maybe I'll give you some orders," concedes Telfors.
He sighs at the young and thrusting warrior priest. "Forget it. Who the hell are you? and why in the name of Gorum's greatsword are you here? I am Telfors, retired officer and steward of the Redgore shrine."
"Then maybe I'll give you some orders," concedes Telfors.
"I, Sir, am Kronag, heir to the Griffin Sire Castle. I am here to claim my property."
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"That's better. Much better." Telfors eyes the half-orc with a touch more respect.
Then the limping man turns away and puts the blade back on the wall. He stares out of the high window for a moment.
"Do you know I fought at Redgore Hill? Stood alongside some good men in that hillside shield wall. Never forget the sight of all them goblins attacking. Like water washing up against a dam. Never forget it..."
He trails off in a distant reverie.
Kronag rises. "I wish I'd been here, sir," he says with what must be a smile.
Baron Praxus arrives and claims a tent, stashing his gear inside, and takes a quick look around to see if any of the nearby residents look untrustworthy.
Once settled in, he climbs up to the shrine on the hill. Walking inside, he props his giant shield against the wall and approaches the two men inside.
"I hear there's a castle needs retaking."
"Praxus," Kronag rumbles. "Good to see my gold bought something. Where are the others?"
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The Steward leads the way to the back past the brazier and goblin banners.
"Is this one of your soldiers, Lord Kronag?" he asks as he hobbles to a door.
He opens the door to a single long table with an open fire burning beyond. Meat is roasting on the iron spit, sizzling drips of fat fall, creating a mouth-watering aroma.
Telfors points at the table centre where two jugs and several wooden cups are on a tray.
"Visitors may drink and eat here so long as they help chop wood, clean the mess and hunt or cook food for the table. A day without meat is a bad day in my book. The ale or water I provide."
The elderly man goes to turn the spit over, letting the fire at fresher meat.
"Others? I don't know of any others. I don't watch over anybody but myself 'less I been paid, and I ain't been paid yet."
Praxus sits down, leaning his big bastard sword against the table, and pours himself a mug of ale. "I'll chop some wood this evening," he tells the aged knight.
"So...what're the details? What's the pay? When do we leave?" Praxus absently scratches at an old scar under his chain mail.
"I'd be interested to know what you have been told. Then I'll fill in the rest, but only what I know, of course." Telfors pours a little brown sauce over the meat.
Kronag pours himself some ale and takes a seat, uninvited. "Yeah, he's one of mine. Baron Praxus. More nobility, hah!
"Don't know much. I own a castle, from some uncle or whatever that I never saw. Have to fight my way to it and then kill the squatters. Then I'm 'Lord Kronag!' Gorum will see me through. What else do I need to know?"
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"I see. I will continue to call you Lord Kronag. Just in case you succeed. Your castle is about 200 miles from here. However between here and there is some tough ground."
Telfors stares out of the window, "You may not have fought here before but what experience do you have of killing goblins, my Lords? The only reason I ask is because there are plenty in the wastelands."
"Anyway, it's a two stage journey, take the river road up into the woodlands until you reach Havener. Havener is one of the "protected villages", protected that is by Angoll's murderers and brigands. From Havener it's a short journey into the castle and then it's just a case of killing the man himself. A simple task indeed."
He turns back to face the two men. "How many are you in all?"
The warrior steward begins to cut and serve platters of cooked meat, and then produces heavy dwarf bread to round out the meal.
"Served with a parcel of them hill dwarves in the Goblinsblood wars and got a taste for it then. You know there is rumoured to be a bunch of dwarves dug in in the woodlands. Mining, I believe. And there are the woodland elves but they mostly stay out of sight. Oh and the goblins. There's plenty of them."
Telfors tears at the meat and bread chewing as he lets the Lords absorb the information he has given.
"Sure, I've fought goblins. Nasty little buggers. Shouldn't be too much of a problem. I'm more worried about the castle itself."
Praxus turns to Kronag. "I don't know how you feel about 'em, but it might be worth tracking down those dwarves, see if we cant get some of 'em to join us. Might be useful for taking the castle. They usually know a lot about fortifications, sapping, that kind of thing."
"Can you tell us anything about the castle itself, Telfors? Maps, plans, anything?"
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"Maps? no, no maps. I believe the dragon made extensive changes to the castle when it fell."
Telfors turns to the men. "Look I'll have a think about what you said. You may wish to do a fair bit of hunting and stock up provisions until the rest arrive. The wilderness ahead may put you on short rations."
"I have to walk the battlefield, I do it every night. It helps me pray. Good night my Lords, I'll see you tomorrow some time."
With that, he limps away.
As darkness begins to fall slowly across Redgore hill, the mist begins to creep up from the surrounding woods. With a gust of breath that parts the ankle-deep mist like a curtain, a figure appears.
The figure stops, and gives what can only be a sigh of contentment at finally reaching his journey's end. Yet somehow he also manages to add a small sniff of disdain for the sub-par conditions he sees he will have to endure.
Leaning lightly upon the carved staff he carries, the tall, slender male quietly intones a word, and begins to lightly wave his hand over his clothing. The traveling dust and grime are removed from his boots and hem of his robe. Another pass of his hand, and his shoulder-length Platinum blonde hair is neatly slicked back, proudly revealing his long, pointed ears for all to see. With a final exaggerated wipe above his already shining amulet, the elf smiles.
He makes a final adjustment of his robe, opening it to reveal his family crest on the knee-length tabard he wears over his comfortable shirt and breeches. With a final hike of his pack, he begins making his way up the hill with the long, graceful strides that are the mysterious trademark of the elves'.
After entering the camp, he politely inquires as to where he might find the gentlemen in charge, and is directed to the shrine at the top of the hill. He bows his head in thanks, , and makes his way to the shrine.
He enters the shrine, examining the items displayed inside with a combination of intrigued curiosity and critical dismissal. He finally is directed towards a room in the back, where he sees a half-orc and a human engaged in conversation.
"Excuse me goodsirs," The elf says as he ducks from habit as he enters the doorway.
"My name is Allien Layshien, and I am here to offer my services to a gentleman named Kronag. Might either of you know where I can find him?"
"Looks like you got yourself an elf, Kronag." Praxus points at the half-orc across the table from him.
A single slim eyebrow twitches upwards in surprise at the humans' address of the half-orc. At least you think it was surprise. If the elf has any reservations about working for a half-orc, he gives no indications.
"Ah." He says after an instant's pause, and extends his hand in greeting. "Then you are the heir to 'Griffin Sire Castle'. I understand you requested a 'mystic specialist' to aid in dealing with anything arcane that might have been left behind for unwary explorers?" He asks with a smirk.
He removes his pack and traveling cloak and places it in a chair. "As I said, I am Allien Layshien. And it is the pleasure of the elves, and my family, that I offer to you my services as Wizard for your quest to reclaim your ancestral lands."
"A wizard, eh? I suppose you'll be handy to have with us then." He slides a mug of ale over to the elf. "Name's Baron Praxus. Welcome aboard." The big man holds out his hand.
"Baron." Nods Allien as he takes the man's proffered hand. Though he is taller than the human, the elf's long, nimble fingers are eclipsed in the human's large, callused hand.
Allien picks up the mug of ale, nods once more to the baron, and takes a long pull. His face puckers and he eyes the brew with a critical eyebrow raised. Then he seems to contemplate for a moment, takes another sip and smiles contentedly as he sits down and stretches his legs out with a sigh of pleasure.
"I do hope that I shall be somewhat more than merely 'handy', and I shall endeavor to make it so. Unfortunately my information up until now is somewhat lacking. And to me knowledge is power. If you can tell me what you have in the way of plans, what we can expect while approaching the castle, and anything you know of the keep itself, it will help me to prepare appropriately." He says, taking another pull of the mug.
"Ah, an elf. Good. I've heard they're crunchy." Kronag laughs.
"Not much to tell. 200 miles to the castle. Dwarves and elves on the way that could help, goblins that probably won't. Somebody sittin' in my chair in the castle we'll have to kill.
"My sword, Praxus's sword. Your magic. Whatever help Gorum deems me worthy of.
"There's supposed to be a fourth."
"Ah, an elf. Good. I've heard they're crunchy." Kronag laughs.
Allien once again raises a slim eyebrow. "I have heard that goblin-kin complain that hunting an elf is like hunting for firewood. I guess we just don't have enough meat on our bones. Now dwarves on the other hand,..." He doesn't bother hiding his smile in his mug.
"Not much to tell. 200 miles to the castle. Dwarves and elves on the way that could help, goblins that probably won't. Somebody sittin' in my chair in the castle we'll have to kill."My sword, Praxus's sword. Your magic. Whatever help Gorum deems me worthy of.
"There's supposed to be a fourth."
"Well, that would seem to be a fairly potent combination. I am sure your prayers to Gorum are nothing to ignore either. With the proper preparation and tactics, I have full confidence in our ability to empty your chair's current resident."
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The following morning, the three adventurers are woken by a drum beating and then a trumpet playing from the hilltop.
Telfors can be seen walking back with the instruments after a while. He grins at the three.
"I see another of your castlemen has arrived, Lord Kronag. Also, in the night a message arrived from town saying that a "tolly" was coming to complete your force. It didn't say when. Breakfast is on the table, cold meat, ale and cheese, with bread and honey for the delicate." Telfors finishes speaking looking at the elf pointedly.
"After you can find tools and the like in the sheds behind the barn, hunting gear is kept in a wellproofed cupboard there too. Anything else you do would be appreciated by Gorum's steward."
"The delicate appreciate your consideration good host." Allien replies, lifting a slim eyebrow. He is obviously trying not to smile, and doing a passable job of it. He helps himself to a small portion of bread with honey on it, topped by a Kronag-sized portion of meat.
Briskly brushing the crumbs from his fingertips, he asks the others, "I'm afraid I didn't take as good a look around as I should have last night. Any idea what is needed most? I'll be more than happy to help out wherever I'm needed."
"Ah, meat, ale, and then a hunt for more meat!" Kronag exclaims as he sets to. "A fine start to a day.
"Telfors, what's the game like around here?"
Praxus helps himself to meat and cheese, and some "delicate" bread and honey too, washing it all down with a few hearty mugs of ale.
"I said I'll chop some wood. Don't know how much I can help with the hunting, but I'll bring an axe and come along."
"Any dangers in the woods nearby we should know about, Telfors?"
"Ah, meat, ale, and then a hunt for more meat!" Kronag exclaims as he sets to. "A fine start to a day.
"Telfors, what's the game like around here?"
As soon as you finish speaking the door bangs open and a small blond blur whips by the table and hides behind the big human . Before anyone can react the young, blond haired, blue eyed child, grimy and obviously starving looks pleadingly at you. Out of breath and in seemingly complete distress he says, "Please sirs, there are some terrible men after me." Suddenly drop to the floor in exhaustion. After a moment he starts to stir again.
Mr. Wolf:
Sorry for interjecting Tolly before you approved him, but I thought I would get him into the game. The stats we can work on if they need to be adjusted which they probably do.
As for his intro here is what I had been thinking of. Tolly was going to work his pitiful, malnourished look to get a hot meal or two and a dry bed to sleep in at the shrine. However after seeing the Elf walk in looking as if he owned the place another idea formed in his head. Almost out of money and no civilization close by he decided to play his role out above. His plan is to take whatever money he can find after everyone is asleep and steal one of the horses. As he was scouting out the building he happened to overhear parts of their conversion about the castle. Their talk of castles and nobility got him thinking of even bigger plans. This might be his big chance at some real wealth. If the others don't want him right away he will follow them out. (Once they give up on waiting for the 4th member) Shadowing them for a day or two before openly walking into their camp at night. If they happened to get attacked before that happens he planned to flank their attackers and show his worth hoping they will take him on.
Praxus helps himself to meat and cheese, and some "delicate" bread and honey too, washing it all down with a few hearty mugs of ale.
"I said I'll chop some wood. Don't know how much I can help with the hunting, but I'll bring an axe and come along."
"Any dangers in the woods nearby we should know about, Telfors?"
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Telfors tells you that the hunting is difficult, the area gets regularly raided by goblins across the river.
They are the only danger.
When Tolly turns up, Telfors re-appears to meet everyone.
The hunting gives you a chance to take down a deer. The efforts of chopping wood and collecting food forges the start of a team. Although it is tenuous at best.
Telfors helps the party prepare the meat for the journey with divine magic (Create Iron Rations) to provide 28 days travel meat. He also gives Kronag a bottle of wine.
The following morning, Telfors makes it clear it is time to leave.
"Here is your map. The route takes you to the bridge across the river Nichoar. The guardhouse there is in the hands of brigands and they have are a sorceress in charge. You either pay or take the message of Gorum to them. That will tell me whether you have the strength to survive this ordeal."
"Considerin' I'm just about broke, I don't think I'm payin'. Taking the message of Gorum to 'em sounds like the best plan.' Praxus gives a grin. "I do love a good strategy."
He hoists his iron tower shield and bastard sword, and slams his grimacing orcish helm over his head. He looks down at the small person who just appeared to join the group. "You sure you up to this, little guy?" Praxus chuckles.
As soon as you finish speaking the door bangs open and a small blond blur whips by the table and hides behind the big human . Before anyone can react the young, blond haired, blue eyed child, grimy and obviously starving looks pleadingly at you. Out of breath and in seemingly complete distress he says, "Please sirs, there are some terrible men after me." Suddenly drop to the floor in exhaustion. After a moment he starts to stir again.
Allien raises a thin eyebrow, exchanges looks with the others, and looks back at the small form on the floor.
"Mr. 'Tolly', I presume?" He asks with only a hint of a grin. He looks at Kronag. "It would appear your 'infiltration specialist' has arrived. Lord Kronag."
He smiles at the halfling, and offers him a hand. "An excellent performance small one. Overall I would give it an 8 out of 10. Those less familiar with both human children and Halflings would be hard pressed to spot the differences. Of course it also helped that we were warned there would be another arrival,..." He confesses.
He smiles and introduces the others,...
"A Sorceress you say? Excellent. I have been hoping for a chance to test my mystical might against a worthy opponent."
Allien shrugs into his pack, and covers his tabard with the family crest on it with his traveling cloak.
"The word of Gorum it is then." He agrees airily. "Ready when you are gentlemen."
He snaps shut his small traveling spellbook and slips it into a pocket. With a grandiose gesture his staff picks itself up from the corner and makes it's way to his hand.
"Please sirs, there are some terrible men after me." Suddenly drop to the floor in exhaustion. After a moment he starts to stir again.
Kronag reaches for his greatsword, then hesitates.
Allien raises a thin eyebrow, exchanges looks with the others, and looks back at the small form on the floor."Mr. 'Tolly', I presume?" He asks with only a hint of a grin. He looks at Kronag. "It would appear your 'infiltration specialist' has arrived. Lord Kronag."
Kronag looks confused (a look the rest will see often). "Huh? Infil -- oh! Ha! Tolly, is it? Careful who you try to trick. There are a couple of swords here larger than you are."
"A Sorceress you say? Excellent. I have been hoping for a chance to test my mystical might against a worthy opponent."
"Just get us close to her," Kronag rumbles.
"Alright," he says loudly, turning to everyone. "We leave from here in an hour. Eat and drink your fill."
It seems he is back on his feet with a wide smile across his face before some of you can even react. "Ya got me Cap. A slinger with an intellect like that, no wonder you saw that one coming a mile away." He dusts his clothes off, which look as if a pincher wouldn't even wear them, puffs out his chest, and introduces himself, "Tolman Cooper at yer service Cap. Everyone calls me Tolly though." He flourishes with style and grace that would make a court noble look like a fool. "Since we are about to leave I guess you might want some of your stuff back." Winking at the group he drops a sack of gold, wooden holy symbol, dagger, potion of cure light wounds, spell component pouch, and punching dagger on the table, "The very small sack of gold and holy symbol came off you,"He nods at Kronag. "The potion and spell pouch came from the Elf with the brains, and the punching dagger came of the other big guy. Did you know you only have 5 silvers and 8 pence on you? I would have taken that to, but it would have been an insult to my skills." He looks at each of you still smiling, "All in good fun, heh Cap? I wouldn't have kept it all." He says with a grin.
Allien Layshien:
Thanks for saving my intro. :)
Both of the Elf's eyebrows raise when he recognizes the pouch and vial on the table. "Yes," He says wryly, reclaiming his items and making sure his component pouch is securely fastened to his belt. "Losing this would have been most, unfortunate."
His face is neutral, but the smile in his eyes shows that he is at least appreciative of Tolly's sense of humor.
"An hour?" He turns back to the table. "Then I had better have some more of this excellent repast, before our diminutive friend here finds a way to pocket that too!"
He smiles, and tosses a small loaf of bread to Tolly.
Your welcome, No problem, Just remember that I might need the favor returned some day! I tend to write myself into corners sometimes,...
Praxus growls and reclaims his dagger from the halfling. "Yeah, I did know I only had that much," he says, looking into his pouch and making sure what little money he has is still there. "It's why I signed up for this job. Ah well, at least you didn't take my tankard."
With an hour still to go, Praxus drops back down into a chair and pulls a battered pewter tankard from his pack. He takes three other mugs from a shelf and fills them all with ale.
"Every mission should start with a toast, followed by extreme drunkenness." Praxus waits for the others to take their mugs, then stands and raises his own flagon.
"To Cayden Cailean, to Gorum, to success on our venture. To blood and sweat, to life and death. To stout companions and loyalty to one's comrades-in-arms. To battle, women, and gold. And lastly, to DRINK!"
Praxus throws back his flagon and drinks it all in a single breath, before sitting back down and refilling his mug.
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The following morning, Telfors makes it clear its time to leave. He prays for each of you to die with honour and a bloody sword in your hands.
Then its time to say goodbye to the battlefield of Redgore.
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No more than three hours later the party crests a ridge. The road meanders down several hundred yards to a wide stone bridge over the river. The bridge is about hundred foot long or more and at its end are barrels. A line of barrels.
With guards, two men patrol the far side. The road continues on to a pair of rotted and broken gates in a 20ft high stockade wall. There are squat buildings inside the stockade, with their doors facing inwards to the the centre of the ruined fort.
Guarding the roof top, watching the bridge and the world beyond the wall is an archer. His mate stands on the roof of the building opposite. Outside stairs run down the riverside of the buildings from the roof to the ground. No other movement can be made out.
Looking over the wall the countryside is flatter and a dark shadow smudges the distant lands. The place looks empty, devoid of life.
Kronag grumbles. "Archers. Why did it have to be archers?
"Wizard -- can you get us in close?"
Allien shakes his head, but doesn't seem to be concerned. He looks at the situation with a critical eye.
"Sorry, but I have only a personal shield in my repertoire at the moment. No arrow screens or invisibility. But I don't think that will be required, look,..."
He shifts and indicates the guards on the bridge.
"They aren't behind cover or expecting trouble. I believe this is the situation we were told of, where they force travelers to pay in order to cross. All we need to do is walk up like we don't expect any trouble, no weapons in hand, and allow them to make their demands. I have a colorful charm that can probably drop any two or three at once, as long as they are standing next to each other. If required I shall use it on the bridge guards, and then we quickly make our way the short distance into the stockade where the archers bows are next to worthless."
He gives both Kronag and the Baron an appraising look. "Your shields are both fairly large, and should provide adequate cover from the archers while we approach if we don't dally."
He gives both Kronag and the Baron an appraising look. "Your shields are both fairly large, and should provide adequate cover from the archers while we approach if we don't dally."
"Looks as if someone with some brains set this up. Those barrels will slow ya down while the bowmen pincushion ya." Squinting towards the buildings, "The problem I see is we don't know where that slinger be at." Looking at the river flowing under the bridge he says, "I would slip sneak past them, but I ain't getting into that water unless the risk of me drowning is smaller than whats chasing me. If they ain't paying to much attention I could slip past them to check those buildings out. Now if you look close those bowmen are standing on open roof in the middle of the day. That's smart and dumb. They can see everything but that leaves them open without cover. I wouldn't be much good sneaking on them and once the guards are fighting they will let the ones in the building know for sure."
*edit*
"I've got a crossbow," Praxus says. "We get up on the bridge, I might be able to use my shield as cover and pick off the archers, if the rest of you can keep the other guards off o' me. If we're lucky, we can take 'em out before the sorceress or whoever even knows they're under attack."
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The party can see that it is several hundred yards from the ridge down to the bridge. There is very little cover for four people.
Then the stone bridge is about twenty foot wide with low stone walls. Anyone on the bridge is in the open and easily visible to all the guards.
The bridge is 100 foot long and ends at the barrels.