Othniel's Ironfang Invasion II

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

The remaining lizards moved in for the kill, unceremoniously stepping over the body of their fallen companion.

L3 moves up to Aidan, triggering an AoO from Ulva. If it dies to the AoO, apply the following attack roll to L1 as it moves up behind to also attack Aidan.

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]



Previous thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?519621-Othniel-s-Ironfang-Invasion-I)

[Tychris1]

Hacking the chaging lizards legs off, Ulva continued to brutally assault the lone surviving reptile.


L1:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

L1:[roll2]
Damage:[roll3]

L1:[roll4]
Damage:[roll5]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

With the last of the tower occupants slain or (in the case of the pigs) fled, the Fangbreakers set to looting! Cirieo, meanwhile, borrowed the set of keys from the body of the warpriest, and pushed open the northern door on the bottom level of the tower. Inside, the group discovered the remaining Chernasardo Rangers who had garrisoned Fort Trevalay, fourteen in all and led by a broad, hatchet-faced man with the look of experince by the name of Cobb Greenleaf. To a one, they were all in varying states of injury or malnutrition, but they were ecstatic to see that Ibzairiak and the Ironfang had been slain.

On the bodies of the hobgoblin soldiers:

11 x Potion of cure moderate wounds
11 x Mwk breastplate
11 x Mwk light steel shield
11 x Composite longbow (+2 Str)
220 x arrows
11 x Glaive
11 x Mwk battleaxe
11 x Cloak of resistance +1
11 x Each of the following: Backpack, bedroll, signal whistle, waterskin

On the bodies of the 3 rangers:

6 x Fervor juice
6 x Smokesticks
6 x Thunderstones
3 x +1 chain shirt
3 x Composite longbow (+3 Str)
60 x arrows
3 x Mwk light pick
3 x Mwk longsword
3 x Cloak of resistance +1
3 x Each of the following: Backpack, belt pouch, blanket, flint and steel, holly and mistletoe, mess kit, spell component pouch, tindertwigs (5), trail rations (5), waterskin
55gp

On the body of the Gunslinger:

2 x Potion of cure serious wounds
1 x Potion of invisibility
50 x Alchemical cartridge (dragon’s breath)
20 x Alchemical cartridge (entangling shot)
20 x Alchemical cartridge (flare)
50 x Alchemical cartridge (paper)
1 x +1 light fortification studded leather
1 x +1 reliable dragon pistol
1 x Mwk longsword
1 x Mwk musket
1 x Belt of incredible dexterity +2
1 x Deathwatch eyes
1 x Ring of protection +1
181 gp

On the body of the commander:

4 x Oils of magic weapon
1 x Potion of bear’s endurance
1 x Potions of bull’s strength
1 x Potion of cure moderate wounds
1 x Potion of invisibility
4 x Alchemist’s fire
1 x +1 breastplate
5 x Mwk javelins
1 x Mwk two-bladed sword
1 x Cloak of resistance +1
1 x Bandolier
1 x Keyring (with 4 keys)

On the body of the warpriest:

1 x Feather token (whip)
5 x Alchemist’s fire (5)
1 x +1 scale mail
1 x Mwk buckler
1 x Mwk light flail
1 x Bottle of whiskey (20 gp)
1 x Silver unholy symbol of Hadregash (worth 25 gp)
1 x Adamantine chain necklace (worth 100 gp)
1 x Key to the tower cells

On the body of the druid:

2 x Antiplague
1 x Troll oil
1 x Mwk lamellar armor
1 x Mwk scimitar
1 x Mwk sling
1 x Amulet of natural armor +2
1 x Beast-bond brand
1 x Druid’s vestment
1 x Gardening shears, holly, mistletoe, spell component pouch

Amongst the filth of the pig area:

121 gp
1 x +1 returning dart
1 x Potion of sanctuary
A scroll tube containing a scroll of black tentacles and a scroll of fly

On the body of the troll:

1 x Wand of charm animal (27 charges)
1 x Padded armor
1 x Headband of alluring charisma +2
1 x set of animal calls (cougar, roc, weasel, and wolf)
4 x Animal harnesses
1 x Canvas ball
1 x Veterinarian’s kit

In the troll's area:

3 x Whips
1 x +1 magical-beast-bane whip

On the bodies of the monks:

2 x Potions of barkskin
2 x Potions of cure moderate wounds
2 x Antitoxin (2)
5 x Daggers
2 x Ring of protection +1
2 x Etched copper-and-iron bracers (worth 125 gp each)

In the War Room:

1 x Stylized dragon figurine is a variant bronze griffon figurine of wondrous power (charges currently depleted - will take 5 days to recharge)

In Jang's quarters:

1 x Polymorphic Pouch containing
1 x Incense of Meditation
(Fuzzy already looted these)

Ibzairiak’s hoard is scattered at the bottom of his shallow pool. It consists of the following:

232 cp, 2,114 sp, 4,128 gp
1 x +1 shock bastard sword
1 x +1 light crossbow
1 x Belt of incredible dexterity +2
1 x Potion of hide from animals
2 x Potions of fly
1 x Wand of fireball (16 charges)
1 x Wand of summon monster II (22 charges)
1 x Massive black pearl (worth 650 gp)
1 x Golden manticore statue (worth 110 gp)
1 x Set of six silver dice (worth 75 gp)
1 x Gold holy symbol of Abadar (worth 100 gp)
1 x Silver scepter etched with eagles (worth 125 gp)
1 x Set of silver wind chimes embossed with writhing serpents (worth 60 gp)
1 x Bent lance that once pierced Ibzairiak’s chest (broken and worthless)

The Amulet of Mighty Fists that Ibzairiak was wearing is worth 4000gp on its own, but due to the remarkable quality of the jewels set in the chain, it is worth an additional 3000gp.

You also gain another 1320 XP each for freeing the prisoners.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Fear.

Safety was down. Down in the bosom of the earth. The comforting darkness of rock and stone would protect Torg from the terrible dragon menace. Deeper and deeper he glided, like a fish through a lightless pond, until finally he returned to his senses. Disoriented, but relying on his innate dwarven sense of direction while underground, the druid made his way back toward the surface, hoping against hope that his allies had survived.

By the time he returned up through the ground and the walls of the tower, he found his companions standing triumphantly over the corpse of the slain dragon, examining some loot and speaking with Cirieo. The small lump of animate earth emerged from a wall, only to transform into a sheepish, but also quite relieved, Torg.

"Ack, it's good to see you're all okay. And the dragon slain!
...I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. A fear that cut right to the bone... I'm not sure how much help I would'a been otherwise. That beast seemed to resist my magic."

When Cirieo discovered the small group of surviving rangers, the dwarf was quick to administer aid. Gathering the belongings of the slain hobgoblin soldiers, they soon had a small pile of rations to distribute, and there were plentiful weapons, armor, ammunition, and even healing potions to go around.

"Everyone should get equipped; we're not out of the woods yet. We'll need to do a full sweep of the remaining buildings, and the Ironfang could have scouts or pickets out that have yet to return to the fort. Cobb Greenleaf, was it? What do you need to get these men back into fighting shape? We've got significant resources with us. I'll need to see to my own wounds, and those of my companions as well, but we've got some time to get ready."

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

"Sergeant Cobb Greenleaf, master dwarf." Greenleaf struggled to stand straight-backed, but his injuries obviously pained him. "With a bit of food and some fresh water, and a good bit of healing, my lads and lasses would be fit enough to hold any point in the fort, though you'll be understanding if we're not quite up to the task of rooting out whatever Ironfang are left ourselves. Our equipment is gone, but we can borrow from the hobgoblins - likely they have most of our gear anyway."

"What's the situation in the courtyard? Do the bridges still stand, or did the Ironfang drop 'em?"

Mechanically speaking, Greenleaf is at 1/4 health with 13 hp left, the 4 rangers are at 1/3 with 10 hp left, and the 9 recruits are at 1/3 with 4 hp left.

A large map takes up most of the central table. The locations of the three Ranger forts are clearly marked, along with a few secret blinds and caches (already discovered by the party). Spots where the Ironfang Legion forces caught and killed Chernasardo Rangers are marked with a stylized skull. The figurines seem to represent the locations of Ironfang Legion forces in the Fangwood, although most of these markers are out of date (for example, the figurines show a large contingent of hobgoblins at Fort Ristin and several trolls and hobgoblins occupying Fort Nunder).

The most unusual figurine on the map represents a stylized dragon in flight. The dragon figurine is positioned near the northern edge of the map, and is holding down a folded piece of paper. This folded page is torn from an atlas, and depicts the entire Fangwood with much less detail. Along the edge of the page are calculations about dragon flying speeds from Fort Trevalay over 12 hours, 24 hours, and 36 hours, with question marks next to each. The central Fangwood region labeled only as “The Blight” is circled, along with the note “Why here?”

A cloth map hanging from the northwest wall is less impressive than the table map, but by far more chilling. It depicts Nirmathas and northern Molthune, with labels tidily written in Goblin. A red “X” marks the town of Phaendar, and thick, red lines branch out from it across the Nesmian Plains and north up the Marideth River. A dotted line encircles the Nesmian Plains down past the dwarven Sky Citadel of Kraggodan, east through Molthune, and into the Fangwood. The map belongs to Lieutenant Eygara, and she uses it to track the progress of the Legion’s war effort as they carve out a new homeland. The newest annotation leads north along the river to the refining town of Longshadow, one of Nirmathas’s manufacturing strongholds.

There’s also a large table tucked into the northeast corner of the top level. A collection of scales, stones, and other oddments are arrayed upon the table around a humanoid effigy made of rotten twigs. The scales appear to be from a black dragon - larger than Ibzairiak - and are coated with a thin sheen of mold, a few dead centipedes, and small, smooth rocks covered in black slime. None of you are sure what the effigy represents.

[CockroachTeaParty]

"At ease," Torg said to Greenleaf, reflexively reverting to his old soldier days for a moment. "The name's Torg Stone, druid of the Fangwood Circle. We're the Poisonwood Irregulars, formerly of Phaendar. We've been fighting the Ironfang off and on since they sacked our town. The courtyard's been cleared of all hostiles to the best of my knowledge. We struck them fast and hard enough they didn't have time to drop the bridges. It's a charnel house out there. That's the handiwork of Aidan, that... dangerous looking elf over there, Ulva, our masterful spear maiden, and Veric, a crack shot with a bow and ranger like yourselves. Me and Septimus helped with our magic, o'course. And Rollo. He's the wolf."

As the group went about searching through the gear of their fallen foes, Torg busied himself with distributing rations to the rangers, and finding fresh water for them.
"I think there's some roasted pork down on the first floor, if you don't mind it rare. Now, there's breastplates, bows, glaives, axes, and such for all of you, if you don't mind hobgoblin kit. You know your men best, Greenleaf, so you can pick from the pile what goes where best. While you're up to that, I need to take care of something on my own."

While the rangers were eating and getting equipped, Torg sought out the body of the hobgoblin he briefly saw when he opened the hole in the ceiling. He suspected they were a druid, and he had to be sure.


2 x Antiplague
1 x Troll oil
1 x Mwk lamellar armor
1 x Mwk scimitar
1 x Mwk sling
1 x Amulet of natural armor +2
1 x Beast-bond brand
1 x Druid’s vestment
1 x Gardening shears, holly, mistletoe, spell component pouch

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

"Well, you folks are a sight for sore eyes, I'm telling you," Greenleaf muttered, shaking his head. "So few of you did all that? As far as I know, we're all that's left of the rangers hereabouts, and we'll need to rebuild. Anyone who wants to join, well...we'd love to have you. Leastways, it's a distinct pleasure to meet you, Torg. I cannot thank you and your companions enough." After thanking the druid, Cobb Greanleaf went through the pile of loot the party had gathered from within the fort, selecting a breastplate, longsword, bow and quiver full of arrows.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg examined the slain Ironfang druid, and carried her corpse into her presumed chamber; if anyone asked his intentions, he merely enigmatically replied that he would attend to her in death as a fellow druid.

Indeed, the number of animal training items and tools they found was giving Torg a clearer picture of the Ironfang operation at the fort. He seemed deeply troubled, his brow furrowed deep in thought. When Aidan mentioned to him the penned up cougar in the courtyard, Torg asked Veric to accompany him as he went to investigate.

The druid approached the grassy pen slowly, no weapons drawn, although the newly acquired wand of animal charming was held in his hand. He asked Veric to keep a healthy distance. Once he spotted the big cat, he tapped into his training, using subtle body movements and low vocalizations in an attempt to calm the beast.


Torg will attempt a Wild Empathy check on the cougar. If it's not looking successful, he'll burn a charge from his wand of Charm Animal, DC 11 Will save.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Trusting in Torg and Veric's affinity with wild things to deal with the cougar, Aidan turned his attention to the remaining outbuildings. Newly invisible thanks to Septimus, he crept towards the open doors through which so many hobgoblins had rushed to die.

[roll0]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

Bunk beds filled the large building, each made with military precision. A round table stood to the northwest near a stack of crates and boxes. The structure seemed empty, save for the presence of two humans - one male, and one female - chained together and to one of the bunk beds, and huddling in the corner nearby.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Ignoring the chained humans, Aidan crept south towards the closed inner door. Taking a moment to probe for traps, he turned the knob as quietly as he was able.

[roll0]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

Inside smaller room, Aidan discovered...the kitchen. Somewhat anticlimactic, but there you have it.

The next building Aidan selected was obviously the forge. Broken blades and rent breastplates—all in desperate need of repair—lie in orderly stacks near a warm, glowing forge. A mostly disassembled suit of plate barding stands on two sawhorses in the western corner of the room. Two doors exit this room: one to the northeast and another in an alcove to the east. Two creatures occupied the building: a large goblin (tall for its size), wearing a bronze, serpentine bracelet with 5 dangling charms. It squatted down next to an enormous anvil in the center of the room, and growled as the door swung open. "Eyegara? Is that you?" it called out in Goblin.

The other creature Aidan identified as a basilisk. It lay near the forge, enjoying the warmth radiating from that part of the room and looked up as the goblin spoke.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Smiling invisibly at the sight of more foes to slay, Aidan crept back to where Torg and Veric were occupied with the enormous cat.

"There are a goblin and a basilisk lurking in the southwestern building. I'm going to slay the basilisk before any of us fall prey to its gaze - be prepared for the goblin to flee."

Waiting a few moments for a response, Aidan turned back towards the forge. Clambering silently above the goblin standing in the doorway, he returned to where the basilisk lay napping. Crouching in the shadowed alcove above it, he struck like something out of nightmares.

Surprise Round Bite Action: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Sneak Attack: [roll2]

Full Attack Bite: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Sneak Attack: [roll5]

Claw 1: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
Sneak Attack: [roll8]

Claw 2: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]
Sneak Attack: [roll11]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Waiting around the corner until the sound of combat began, Torg moved near the door to find the goblin therein. He did his best to fill his ugly green football head with axe blade.


+1 hatred, -2 power attack
[roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

The "goblin" snarled and ducked as Torg swung his axe. The creature's form rippled into that of some sort of hideous cross between a goblin and a wolf. Stepping back a pace, it attempted to cast an ability on Torg... "You now belong to Marrowcrack!"

5' step backward, and then casting an SLA on Torg. Will save plz!

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg let the malign magic wash over him like water off a duck's back. He dropped his axe, and cast a spell on the creature, causing it to glow with a soft green light.


Torg will cast faerie fire on Marrowcrack. No save, she takes a -20 to Stealth and can't benefit from concealment or invisibility for 7 minutes.

[PepperP.]

Veric

Befuddled as to what the creature in front of him was, Veric knew only that it was not really a goblin, and it menaced his companions and so must die.

Manyshot, Rapid Shot, point blank shot, clustered shots
full attack action
Attack 1
[roll0]
Arrow 1 Damage
[roll1]
Arrow 2 Damage
[roll2]

Iterative Attack
[roll3]
Arrow 1 Damage
[roll4]

Rapid Shot Attack
[roll5]
Arrow 1 Damage
[roll6]

[Tychris1]

”Back off my friends!” Ulva growled as she sprinted into the building and then hacked at the weird little creature with all her might.


Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus sighed and cut his smoke break short to blast the offending creature with magic missile.

[roll0] trip if he can see within a 5-foot step
[roll1] damage

Once everything was dead, Septimus gestured for the rangers to cover the north while the team headed south and positioned themselves outside the door. He cast Haste before the Kool-Aid Manning happened.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Preparing to storm the southern building, Aidan produced his masterwork tools and attempted to undo the locked chains.

Disable Device: [roll0]

[Tychris1]

”Knock knock, open up the door it’s me!” Ulva howled as she threw open the door and ran in at breakneck speeds.

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

What was previously a kennel had been turned into a charnel house: Dried dog blood coated the floors in the cages, the large training area was littered with cracked bones and gristle, and the walls and ceiling were smeared with offal. A damp mist hung in the air.

Fading into view was a ghostly figure, its face distorted by wrath into a hideous mask and its body bound to the kennels by a dozen phantasmal collars and chains. "You..." The creature pointed a long distorted finger at Ulva before drifting toward her...

Aidan, Septimus, Torg, Ulva, and Rollo have won initiative. Rollo will not approach the creature unless Veric succeeds at a DC 25 Handle Animal check.

Spectres are evil undead that hate sunlight and living things. Most are the remnants of murdered or evil humans, their anger preventing them from entering the afterlife. Like ghosts, spectres haunt the places of their deaths, and seek to draw others into the lonely abyss of undeath.

A spectre looks much as it did in life and can be easily recognized by those who knew the individual or have seen the individual’s face in paintings or drawings. Spectres retain a strong sense of identity, and even ancient, insane spectres generally remain coherent. Evil historians and necromancers often try to ally with spectres for the knowledge they held in life and retain in undeath.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg squinted as he gazed into the misty room, his eyes widening with surprise as the spectral horror emerged. He cursed quietly to himself in dwarven as he fumbled with his weapons, swapping out his axe for the magical mithral scimitar.


Torg juggles his weapons like an idiot during this round.

[Tychris1]

”You? Me? Oh, Specter’s, great. Just like Motomo from “Ghost in the Plate”. Don’t let it touch you, or kill you, and uh stay in sunlight?” Ulva buzzed as she stepped inside and unleashed a torrent of attacks.


Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

Attack:[roll2]
Damage:[roll3]

Attack:[roll4]
Damage:[roll5]

[Nefarion Xid]

Eat force damage, ghost!

[roll0]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

Wordlessly, the spectral figure drifted toward Ulva and attempted to lay an ice-cold hand upon her.

Spectre takes a 5' step and attacks Ulva with its Incorporeal Touch: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] plus energy drain!
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

[Tychris1]

”Personal space!” Ulva hissed as the spectral hand floated over her and left her feeling... odd.



Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

Attack:[roll2]
Damage:[roll3]

Attack:[roll4]
Damage:[roll5]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

The spectre fell silent once more, permanently this time, and the group wasted no time in rushing over to the final building. Ulva kicked in the door only to find a building that had clearly once served as an armory, but no more. Its hooks and weapon racks were empty and its long tables now held boxes of soil sprouting several varieties of mushrooms and molds. One box at the rear of the room was covered with a sheet of canvas held down with bricks. A sour, earthy smell filled the air. A swinging door led out to the southwest and a door in an alcove to the southeast led out to the courtyard.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Ulva moved swiftly into the fungus-laden room, and nearly just as quickly re-emerged coughing from a cloud of errant spores.
"Are you alright, Ulva? Don't worry about the plants in there just yet. Let me and our resident alchemist have a gander; maybe go see how those chained up people are doing in the other building?" the dwarf said in response to Ulva's question.

Standing near the door, Torg examined the settling spores as he spoke with Aidan.
"Yellow mold, it seems to me. Fire will kill it, true enough. I've one last fire spell prepared myself, as luck would have it. But we can simply leave this room be for now, and I can prepare new spells on the morrow to better protect ourselves from the spoors. This might've been another workshop for that druid we fought; could be all manner of useful substances within. I'd say it's high time we exercised a dash of patience, eh?"

[Tychris1]

Coughing, Ulva poked her head outside of the door frame, her one good eye bloodshot, and her face still twitching slightly from Septimus’ quicksilver magic ”This place reeks. But otherwise there’s no monsters. Wait, hold on,” A clatter arose indoors as metal clanged against wood “Nope, definitely not a mimic or an angry ghost or something.” She spat out a wad of phlegm, wiped her face with her vambrace, and jerked a thumb behind her to the spory mess.

“You want me to pull these non-choking plants out of here?” She looked to the others, a childlike smile of approval on her face.

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

Aidan climbed down to the rock supporting the fort itself and began to circle around. There were two things of note: One, A rather tempting cave across the water on the southeastern side of the gorge, and two, a suspicious crack at the base of the rock pillar close to the waterline on the northeastern side. Nearby was the stump of a tree with a small, green frog happily croaking away. As Aidan crept closer to the crack in the wall, the stump came alive, lashing out with some sort of freaky tentacle that tried to wrap itself around Aidan, but the elf was too quick for it!

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Taken aback by the sudden attack, Aidan reacted purely on instinct. Though he was unsure what this creature was, the presence of a fleshy tentacle betrayed all-too-mortal vulnerability. He would exploit it.

I LEVELED, FOOL! POWER ATTACK!

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Claw 1: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Claw 2: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

The single tentacle was but a taste of what the Wolf-In-Sheep's-Clothing was capable of, and 7 more sprung to life just as the creature's maw opened.

WISC full attacks:

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Tentacle 1 : [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Confirm? [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
On hit, grab: [roll8] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 2: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]
Confirm? [roll11]
Damage: [roll12]
On hit, grab: [roll13] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 3: [roll14]
Damage: [roll15]
Confirm? [roll16]
Damage: [roll17]
On hit, grab: [roll18] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 4: [roll19]
Damage: [roll20]
Confirm? [roll21]
Damage: [roll22]
On hit, grab: [roll23] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 5: [roll24]
Damage: [roll25]
Confirm? [roll26]
Damage: [roll27]
On hit, grab: [roll28] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 6: [roll29]
Damage: [roll30]
Confirm? [roll31]
Damage: [roll32]
On hit, grab: [roll33] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 7: [roll34]
Damage: [roll35]
Confirm? [roll36]
Damage: [roll37]
On hit, grab: [roll38] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 8: [roll39]
Damage: [roll40]
Confirm? [roll41]
Damage: [roll42]
On hit, grab: [roll43] and pull (5 ft)

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Dodging nimbly between the flurry of lashing tendrils that erupted from the stump, Aidan gave the creature a smug smile. His lips parted, and the sinuous tongue of aberrant things slipped out.

<"Best to surrender now, beast. You're just curious enough to be of use to my studies.">

Let's keep going, but no power attack.

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Claw 1: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Claw 2: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

<flailing noodle arms and also teeth>

WISC full attacks:

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Tentacle 1 : [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Confirm? [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
On hit, grab: [roll8] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 2: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]
Confirm? [roll11]
Damage: [roll12]
On hit, grab: [roll13] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 3: [roll14]
Damage: [roll15]
Confirm? [roll16]
Damage: [roll17]
On hit, grab: [roll18] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 4: [roll19]
Damage: [roll20]
Confirm? [roll21]
Damage: [roll22]
On hit, grab: [roll23] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 5: [roll24]
Damage: [roll25]
Confirm? [roll26]
Damage: [roll27]
On hit, grab: [roll28] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 6: [roll29]
Damage: [roll30]
Confirm? [roll31]
Damage: [roll32]
On hit, grab: [roll33] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 7: [roll34]
Damage: [roll35]
Confirm? [roll36]
Damage: [roll37]
On hit, grab: [roll38] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 8: [roll39]
Damage: [roll40]
Confirm? [roll41]
Damage: [roll42]
On hit, grab: [roll43] and pull (5 ft)

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Hissing at the high-pitched screaming, Aidan wiped away the dribble of blood that followed the strike across his face.

<"Fool beast.">

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Claw 1: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Claw 2: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

<screaming and flailing>

WISC full attacks:

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Tentacle 1 : [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Confirm? [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
On hit, grab: [roll8] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 2: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]
Confirm? [roll11]
Damage: [roll12]
On hit, grab: [roll13] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 3: [roll14]
Damage: [roll15]
Confirm? [roll16]
Damage: [roll17]
On hit, grab: [roll18] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 4: [roll19]
Damage: [roll20]
Confirm? [roll21]
Damage: [roll22]
On hit, grab: [roll23] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 5: [roll24]
Damage: [roll25]
Confirm? [roll26]
Damage: [roll27]
On hit, grab: [roll28] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 6: [roll29]
Damage: [roll30]
Confirm? [roll31]
Damage: [roll32]
On hit, grab: [roll33] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 7: [roll34]
Damage: [roll35]
Confirm? [roll36]
Damage: [roll37]
On hit, grab: [roll38] and pull (5 ft)

Tentacle 8: [roll39]
Damage: [roll40]
Confirm? [roll41]
Damage: [roll42]
On hit, grab: [roll43] and pull (5 ft)

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Feeling slightly regretful at the waste of such a specimen, Aidan nevertheless began shrieking in mockery of the creature's flailing.

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Claw 1: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Claw 2: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

[CockroachTeaParty]

With all of the excitement finally over (that he was aware of), Torg returned to the pen where the charmed cougar waited. He once again made his presence known to the beast so as not to startle it, before transforming into a mountain lion himself. With his newfound mastery of shape changing and understanding, he was able to speak with the creature in its own primal language, at least while he took a similar form.

"Greetings, friend. How did you find yourself in this place? What can I do to aid you?"

[Tychris1]

Sitting down with the rescued slaves, Ulva pulled her armored knees close to her (careful to avoid its spikes) and slowly began to untie her hair. Falling free, she sat in awkward silence for two minutes, her single green eye darting back and forth in an arrhythmic pattern. Finally she coughed and said ”So. You guys had a ghost in the kennel. Spooky stuff. You... uh. You know what that was about?”

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

After the Fangbreakers had cleared the barracks and seen to unlocking the prisoners' shackles, the two had introduced themselves as Ageep and Milla. Both were neophyte Rangers who the hobgoblin commandant, Eygara, had been keeping as personal slaves. They'd been forced to clean and cook for the hobgoblins, and shackled together by a three-foot chain. Their situation, abysmal as it had been, had still seen them in better straights than most of their fellow Chernasardo Rangers, who had been locked in the keep's basement and slowly starved to death. Milla shrank back, and by the haunted look in her eyes, Ulva could easily tell that what the poor girl had witnessed had hit her hard. Ageep, however, was able to explain that they weren't aware of any ghost in the kennels, though from the description of the spectre, Ageep suspected that it had been Ota Gax, a violent and short-tempered ranger who had been at Fort Trevalay to resupply the garrison. "She was as mean as a cur, and looked twice as tough," he explained. "Sort of poetic that she died in the kennels?"

Aidan

As Aidan started moving to explore the other cave, he noted the presence of two watery tarts skulking in the water at the southeastern base of the stone pillar. The two had slimy, transparent skin; webbed, humanoid hands; and snaggle-toothed, horse-like faces.

Torg

Through the mysterious tongue of cougars, Torg is able to ascertain that this cougar once called the deeper parts of the Fangwood forest home, and that one of the two-legged creatures alike to those Torg and his party dispatched had the ability to shift into the cougar's kind. The druid (Torg recognizes that this must be the Jang earlier dispatched) made friends with this cougar and oft complained of having to work with the Ironfang, promising that the two of them and the other cougar would soon seek the freedom of the forest. The cougar is wondering about these new two-legged creatures who fought those like her friend, and asks Torg if her friend might be returning soon.

[CockroachTeaParty]

The puma-that-was-Torg felt the familiar weight of guilt bear down upon him. The animals that had fought and died defending the fort... their deaths were for a humanoid cause they were incapable of understanding. They were not natural deaths, not truly. It was a paradox that all practicing druids had to come to terms with at some point in their career: their powers altered the natural state of things, brought animals outside of their normal routines and behaviors, and more often than not reduced them to tools. And yet these tools followed their handlers willingly, instinct divorced from political loyalty or the greed of conquest. The fallen hobgoblin druid had made her decisions, albeit reluctantly according to the mountain lion's testimony.

"Your friend fell during the fighting," Torg said to the beast, "But you may yet meet again, if she is willing to return. You should return to the forest. This is no place for a proud hunter such as you. Follow."

Torg leapt the fence of the pen, turning back to gaze at the puma with his own feline eyes, bidding it follow. Together, they left out of the northern gate and across the bridge, back into the shade of the trees, drawing some bewildered looks from the surviving rangers manning the walls.

"Go. Be free. Leave this place, for the wars of the two-legged ones still loom large."

[CockroachTeaParty]

The following morning, Torg went out into the woods, carrying the body of the slain hobgoblin druid. In the misty dawn light, he laid out her body in a secluded grove, placing smooth stones at her feet, near her head, and at her sides in the cardinal directions. He sprinkled dirt near her feet, splashed water on one side and burnt a leaf on the other, and let the cool air blow freely over her head. He then whispered a prayer in the secret Druidic tongue, before cutting off a lock of her hair for safe keeping.

He then prayed for his spells, feeling once again that he was closer still to the true power of the natural world. When he had left Phaendar a scant few months ago, he was a rank novice. Now, he felt he was truly an experienced druid. Yet questions weighed on his mind and conscience, but first there was work to be done.

As the fort was slowly coming to life, Torg gathered his companions to discuss their next move. It seemed sensible to move the refugees into the newly claimed fort, for it was a much more defensible position, and likely more agreeable to human senses rather than living in a cave. But first, there was one last issue to be settled: Aidan had discovered a pair of kelpies in the river cavern, and the fey could prey upon the rangers and refugees given an opportunity. They had to be removed.

Torg cast a spell on everyone, allowing them to clamber along walls and ceilings the way Aidan had done during the previous day's attack. They were to all scuttle down close to the kelpies' lair, and await a signal to attack: Torg would assume an aquatic form in the river, and the signal would be when he lowered the water level in the cavern, both to make it easier for everyone to navigate the tunnel, and to deny the aquatic fey the benefits of their favored environment. If the water proved too deep, Septimus could support with ranged magic while Torg would attempt to dispatch the kelpies in his transformed state.

Once everyone was ready, Torg cast a number of spells upon himself before clambering down to the river. There, he transformed into the water itself, navigating the rough waters with a grace only possible to water elementals. He then approached the kelpie's lair, using his dark vision and dwarven sense of depth to gauge how deep the water was within the small cavern.


Torg will cast communal Spider Climb, which gives anyone that wants to punch some gross fey at least 10 minutes of spidery climbness. He'll also cast Greater Magic Fang on Aidan once he's slamma-jammed his mutagen.

Torg will then cast more spells than make sense for the challenge rating of the kelpies on himself, including Bear's Endurance, Cat's Grace, and some other **** which I'll list on the combat sheet. He'll then climb down, turn into a water elemental, and take a peek at the kelpie cavern.

The rest of the party should cross the SW bridge and work their way to the southern shore of the river directly above the cavern, listening for the sound of **** hitting the fan.

[Nefarion Xid]

Owl's Wisdom for Torg, Mage Armor for Torg

x5 Invisibility for everyone
x5 Protection v Evil for everyone
Darkvision on Ulva

See Invis on Septimus

Once we get a signal he casts Haste

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay, Gorge

Invisible, elemental, heavily-enchanted Torg approaches the kelpie den from the west, and spotted four of the creatures...not quite frolicking in the water, but certainly swimming. They (obviously) ignored the invisible Torg.

[CockroachTeaParty]

The kelpies frolicked and faffed about. It was time they were kicked out of this river. The water itself would do so.

Torg swam down under them, near the bottom of the river, concealed by invisibility and the murk of the churning water itself. He then opened up his heart to the water, conjuring a number of smaller elemental servitors. In their watery tongue, he bid them wait until they were all assembled and in position, before giving a watery shout to start the attack.

As one, they rose up, a tide of fury! They pummeled at the fey with their bludgeoning limbs formed of solidified hydraulic force.


Surprise round partial charge!

First, the small water elementals. They'll power attack, which cancels out their bonus from water mastery.
1 & 2 attack Kelpie 4
Attack 1: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Attack 2: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

3 & 4 attack Kelpie 2
Attack 3: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Attack 4: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

5, 6, & 7 attack Kelpie 3
Attack 5: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]
Attack 6: [roll10]
Damage: [roll11]
Attack 7: [roll12]
Damage: [roll13]

Torg himself will attack Kelpie 1
Attack: [roll14]
Damage: [roll15]

Torg's AC drops to 24, the water elementals drop to AC 15

Torg will expend Heightened Awareness for +4 to initiative, bringing his mod up to +6

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg gave a shout to his watery troops to assume flanking positions on the beleaguered fey. Together, they continued to bludgeon without mercy.


1 & 2 attack Kelpie 4
Attack 1: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Attack 2: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

3 & 4 attack Kelpie 2
Attack 3: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Attack 4: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

5, & 7 attack Kelpie 3
Attack 5: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]
Attack 7: [roll10]
Damage: [roll11]

6 moves in to flank Kelpie 1 with Torg
Attack 6: [roll12]
Damage: [roll13]

Torg himself will full attack Kelpie 1
Slam 1: [roll14]
Damage 1: [roll15]
Slam 2: [roll16]
Damage 2: [roll17]

[CockroachTeaParty]

The last kelpie tried to flee. It was welcome to try.


Get this fey trash out of there.
EIGHT CHARGE ATTACKS
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]

[roll8]
[roll9]
[roll10]
[roll11]
[roll12]
[roll13]
[roll14]
[roll15]

[Tychris1]

Awakening to a bright new dawn, Ulva ascended the highest peak of the tower, and dangled her pointed metal feet over the edge. Her heavy chest heaved rhymthically with the rustling of the forest wind, the steady chill of the creepig north bristled her loose and static-ridden hair, and the visible steam of her breath obscured only a fraction of the rising sun’s splendor. Her single eye welled up at its beauty, her calloused and recently scarred face relaxed at its sight, and with the view of rolling trees and swamp beyond she found she could truly call this place home.

Alone at the top of this tower she took off her eyepatch, rested it in the palm of her beaten hand, and stood along the ridge of masonry dividing rampart from clear air. Teetering, cradling the free cold air, she shut both of her eyes, and dreamed. It was not a compulsive dream like her waking memories of combat or her preternatural flinches and instinctual attacks. Nor was it a longing dream as she had spent many a lonely night with before. It was a dream of great intention, a dream that felt precisely like this moment, and as she opened her eyes she felt her hands gripping cold steel. Somehow her glaive was in her hands. Examining its shaft, she used it as a counter weight, and slowly walked along the edge of the tower. Nothing really made sense to her nowadays. With each passing moment, with each hacking blow, she felt herself becoming stronger, and a flame burned within her she couldn’t describe. She had abruptly learned smithing and felt as if she herself were being forged; Shaped for a greater purpose. Things were looking good yet for some reason she felt an encroaching dread, a feeling of crashing, and burning. Clenching her teeth she shut her eye and upon opening it found the head of her weapon engulfed in flames. Grinning, she placed her eyepatch back on, and descended from the tower rapidly. Sliding one foot sideways, she tied up her hair quickly, and gripped her glaive with both hands before backflipping off the side.

”Fuhuhuhuhuh!” She howled as she splashed into the river below, and began to do laps through it.

“I MISSED YOU THE MOST RIVER!” Ulva breached the water to cry out to it and her memories of the river near her ashened house.

After tiring herself out encircling her awesome fortified home, Ulva dragged herself back inside soaking wet, and sought the bridge to her old home and family. Torg. A druid of many words yet few impressions. Shaking herself out, she knelt down to look him eye to eyes and grumbled “If you’re going back to Misthome.... could I ride you there?”

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay, Gorge

Three of the unfortunate kelpies fell quickly, while the third decided discretion was the better part of valour. Torg and his small horde of water elementals was faster, however, and soon caught up with and finished off the remaining fey creature.

960 XP each, plus the following loot in the kelpie cave:

Treasure: The kelpies’ cave in the southern wall of the gorge contains the remains of several Chernasardo Rangers, as well as a masterwork warhammer, a +1 chain shirt, a potion of jump, a potion of magic fang, a bead of force, and a large, pink pearl (worth 200 gp).

[CockroachTeaParty]

With the help of his spider-climbing allies, the party was able to bring up a modest pile of treasure from the kelpies' lair. Torg returned to his natural form and climbed out of the gorge, back into the fort, to make further plans.

When a drenched Ulva approached him about returning to Misthome, the dwarf stroked his beard in thought.
"Aye, I s'pose there's no time like the present. The sooner we get the refugees here, the better. I think I can take a much larger form now, so we can take at least one other person with us."

Aidan seemed keen on returning, if to only gather up his alchemical equipment for relocation. Once they were ready, Torg made his way to the courtyard where he had plenty of space, and asked everyone to stand back.

He closed his eyes and spread out his arms, and in a matter of moments he grew to titanic size, becoming an enormous bird like the ones they had fought the previous day. Standing close to twenty feet tall and with a fifty foot wingspan, the Roc-Torg flexed his wings. The great raptor glanced down at his companions, speaking in a deep voice.

"Climb aboard. You'll have to hold on tight; try and stay between the wings."

Once his companions were clinging for dear life onto his huge feathers, Torg flapped off into the air on powerful muscles, soaring low over the tree tops and sending lesser forest creatures scattering in terror. He set course for Misthome, gaining altitude to better survey the surrounding forest, marveling at the power he had now unlocked.


Torg has a 90 ft. fly speed for close to 16 hours.

[Othniel]

Misthome

Some four hours later, a winded but still fresh Torg landed in a forest clearing outside Misthome. The Poisonwood Irregulars (the name had caught on quickly) were happy to see three of their deliverers (now leaders), and word spread quickly throughout the cavern of the Fangbreakers' victories over the other two forts. Aubrin in particular was glad to see them, for the mantle of leadership, however temporarily, made her exceedingly uncomfortable.

The biggest surprise, however, was the presence of Longfrond, the Treant the Fangbreakers had encountered several days earlier, planted not far outside the entrance to Misthome. The young Treant apologized for her earlier behavior, noting that her actions were based on past history of two-legged creatures she'd encountered in the Fangwood.

"I have observed your people," she said slowly. "They are not wasteful or destructive as others of your kind. It seems I was too hasty in my judgement of your kind. You have my most humble apologies for what I have done. I name you all friends of the Fangwood, and will not hinder your activities, so long as you continue to respect the forest. As a token of my goodwill, I pledge to provide you with as much food as you want for three months. My animal and plant friends shall assist in this regard. There are great stores of fruits and wild plants readily available, and the forest does not mind sharing with its protectors."

Aidan, Torg, and Ulva also found Novvi getting ready to pack up and head back to the Darklands.


https://i.pinimg.com/736x/f3/74/9e/f3749e02e40cbed8b2d238519fc9f629--fantasy-characters-female-characters.jpg

You have gained the Unique Ally, Longfrond. She can offer the PCs 1d4 day’s notice of approaching forces, and provide a +5 circumstance bonus on Knowledge (local) and Knowledge (nature) checks to identify any regional threats.

Furthermore, you have also gained Greenleaf’s Roughnecks (unique team):

While the Chernasardo Rangers provide an ample pool from which the PCs can recruit militia teams, if Cobb Greenleaf survives and the PCs impress him, the elf volunteers his own squad of scouts and guerrillas to serve them. The Roughnecks are a band of Infiltrators (and can be improved with training) that also grant access to the Spread Propaganda and Secure Gold activities. The Roughnecks do not count against the militia’s maximum number of teams.

You have heard of two locations in the Fangwood Forest that druids are wont to congregate in: Crystalhurst and Acorn's Rest.

Crystalhurst: One of the strangest settlements in the Fangwood, Crystalhurst is unknown to most people— even Nirmathi. The druid council that runs Crystalhurst takes care to keep the settlement’s existence a secret, as they believe outsiders disrupt the natural balance of the place. Occasionally, travelers accidentally stumble into Crystalhurst, but unless such trespassers quickly prove themselves worthy, the druids firmly turn them away.

Crystalhurst has one of the most diverse populations of any settlement in Nirmathas. Druids of all races and ethnicities coexist peacefully in the village, including a few centaurs, gathlains, and ghorans. Wild animals also live in Crystalhurst, wandering the streets freely. Some are animal companions of the druids, while others are untamed creatures that have accepted the druids as part of the forest.

Acorn’s Rest: This small community sits in the southernmost section of the Fangwood. Most of its residents are druids who work to undo the damage done to the forest by the constant attacks from Molthune. The druids of Acorn’s Rest enjoy their isolation, but unlike those in Crystalhurst to the north, they make no special effort to hide their existence. They are friendly to travelers looking for shelter or trade, so long as visitors respect the forest and its creatures.

Crystalhurst is located some fifty miles east-northeast of Fort Trevalay as the crow flies, while Acorn's Rest is much further southeast some seventy-five miles and lies close to the Nirmathas-Molthune border.

[CockroachTeaParty]

The giant roc-Torg returned to his normal form after Ulva and Aidan got their feet back on the ground. Torg graciously thanked Longfrond, happy to have another ally they could count on.

There was much to do helping the refugees prepare for the journey to Fort Trevalay. A brave squad of volunteers would need to stay stationed at the caves, for it was a valuable strategic outpost, but most noncombatants would need an escort to the newly secured fort.

Unfortunately, Torg had urgent business to attend to elsewhere. After checking in on Kur and making sure the leshy's growth was proceeding normally, Torg spoke with Aubrin.
"Aidan and Ulva should provide more than adequate protection for the refugees on their way to Fort Trevalay, but with my new powers I can transport those less able to travel much more quickly. If'n you'd like, Aubrin, I can take you and the children back by air. It's a bit... intimidating. You'll all have to hold on tight, and the journey takes about four hours as the crow flies, but you'll be safe in your new home before the sun sets. Think you can keep the young'uns in line?
Either way, I can't stay. I need to be back at the fort before nightfall, since I've got another day's journey on the morrow."

[Othniel]

Misthome

"Sure. I'll gather up something to make a harness or something. Keep the little ones from squirming off." Aubrin grinned at the dwarf and added before hobbling off to do as she'd said, "You lot have really grown into leading this rag-tag band, you know. I think you've got the chance to really make something out of it."

Fort Trevalay

Back at the fort, the surviving rangers set about returning the structure to readiness. Those few who were not either standing watch or scouting on either side of the river started clearing away the bodies of the fallen, both from the recent battle, and their fellow rangers whose bodies had been left to the pigs. The latter were lain in a row with cloth shrouds for temporary covers while a large pit was dug in a clearing not far from the fort. There, the bodies of the hobgoblins and their allies were lain in preparation for Septimus to cremate them. The ashes would be reburied with hopes that the forest would soon claim the spot. The fallen rangers were then carried into the forest where a small cemetery existed for those rangers who had previously died while stationed at the fort. Rites were given and prayers said for the benefit of both the rangers' fallen colleagues and themselves before they all returned to duty.

As cleaning and repairs were underway, Cobb Greenwood approached Septimus and gave him a respectful salute, though his expression was grim. "Magus Lord Commander. Sir, I with to report on the strength of our forces and enemy intelligence recovered.

"We have fifteen Rangers suitable for duty, excluding myself and Cirieo. I'm going to recommend you leave him as a sort of liaison officer and trainer for special missions here at the fort on account of his injury. He'll balk at that, I'm sure, but he can't get around like he used to, not without some powerful magic to restore his leg. With the militia you're bringing in, and refugees I hope to scoop up, that should leave the rangers here available to focus on scouting. I'm happy to do what you'll have me, of course, but I think I can serve best to oversee the day-to-day operation of the fort. That leaves you folks to continue doing as you think best. And I have a thought on that as well.

"I've had a look at the maps the Legion had in our war room. The first map we can dismiss as out of date. You've accounted for all three of the Chernasardo forts now. In theory, the north wall and northeast tower at Fort Ristin can be rebuilt and we could re-staff the fort, but we don't have the workers, resources, or equipment for it just now, let alone the forces to properly garrison it. I hate to let good real estate sit there for something nasty to crawl in, but unless you have any better ideas, I think that's what we'll have to do. From what I've been told, Fort Nunder is a near-total loss. It will take considerable effort to rebuild the fort into something usable, and it was mainly a smaller outpost and guard for the vault located there. I recommend abandoning it for the near future. I'm not sure what the note on the Blight refers to, and I'd like to pick Overseer Torg's brain on that. Druids are wonderful at all that plant stuff. What concerns me most, however, is this second map."

Greenleaf took a folded cloth from under his arm and unfolded it for Septimus to see. "I don't know if you got a good look at this yet, but it was hanging on the wall in the same room. Now, I know you folks came from Phaendar. I'm sorry for the loss of your neighbors and any family you may have had. These hobgoblin bastards are going to pay for this by the time it's over. But what I'm concerned about is what I think they might be planning. If you look at this map, they seem to be marking the places they plan on capturing as they go along. This darker line that isn't as faded? That leads right up the river to Longshadow. That could be the key to stopping their northward spread, sir. Longshadow is one of - maybe even the only - city in Nirmathas that has stone walls. Molthune has never captured it. And it's the largest source of industry in all of Nirmathas. If you want to push back the Ironfang, you need Longshadow.

"I'll leave you and your friends to mull over that, but with your permission, I'd like to send a few scouts northwest across the Hollow Hills to get a feel for what's going on. I'd send a few up the river too, but it's bound to be watched by the Legion."

A cloth map hanging from the northwest wall is less impressive than the table map, but by far more chilling. It depicts Nirmathas and northern Molthune, with labels tidily written in Goblin. A red “X” marks the town of Phaendar, and thick, red lines branch out from it across the Nesmian Plains and north up the Marideth River. A dotted line encircles the Nesmian Plains down past the dwarven Sky Citadel of Kraggodan, east through Molthune, and into the Fangwood. The map belongs to Lieutenant Eygara, and she uses it to track the progress of the Legion’s war effort as they carve out a new homeland. The newest annotation leads north along the river to the refining town of Longshadow, one of Nirmathas’s manufacturing strongholds.

https://i.imgur.com/nymb0v6.jpg

Both small communities, Redburrow is a productive little hamlet that survives by mining iron, while Radya's Hollow also sports a general store and assayer's office.

[Nefarion Xid]

Steptimus nodded slowly. "I think we'd better see to Longshadow as soon as possible. The Fangbreakers will move through Radya's Hollow and Redburrow, but go ahead and spare two teams of two to scout the hills ahead of our departure. They can rendezvous with us in Radya's Hollow and report what they've found. While we're gone, I want you to have command of Fort Trevalay. Leave Ristin. We can't afford to split our forces. Ristin is barely defensible in its current state. We'll win this war on attrition, not by occupying territory."

"Until the others return, I'll use my magic to create pits on the approach. Once the civilians arrive, we'll put them to work cutting stakes for the bottom. They don't need need to be covered, but it will break up their formations if they try to take Trevalay. I don't think they will in the near future, but eventually they'll find out where our base is and they'll try. If we keep hitting them like we have, we delay that counteroffensive and keep them weak."

[CockroachTeaParty]

As Aubrin went about her preparations, Torg made a point to visit Kur. He told the wolf he still had several days left to wait before the leshy was finished growing, and asked if Kur could still keep tabs on the area to make sure nothing disturbed it. The druid also informed Longfrond of the growing plant creature, knowing that the influence of plant beings was supposedly healthy for coaxing nature spirits to inhabit leshies. It would still be ten days before he could learn of his attempt's success.

Once Aubrin was ready, Torg once again assumed his mighty roc form. Simply lashing some rope over his immense chest and above the 'shoulder' of his wings could suffice for a handhold in a pinch, and the children could be further secured by tying a length of rope around their waist and tying it to the rope around Torg.

Before leaving, the gigantic bird made sure to give Aidan and Ulva some parting words.
"There's nothing in this forest you can't handle, I'm fairly certain at this point. Hopefully you won't be troubled escorting these good people to the fort. Just... be careful. Keep out a weather eye. I'll likely be seeing you back at the fort in three or four days' time."

Once Aubrin and the children had clambered on his back and secured themselves, the roc-druid took to the skies once more, flying back to the fort carefully. This wasn't a time for daring aerial tricks or maneuvers.

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

Torg returned to their new home at the liberated Chernasardo Ranger fort some hours later, but the rest of the militia, led by both Aidan and Ulva, had a more arduous journey ahead of them. Their "bags" were packed, provisions secured, and anything wanted or that might be potentially useful at their new home was packed either on the wagon pulled by a pair of now well-fed horses (though they may have been slightly annoyed at having to pull such a heavily-laden wagon), or carried in backpacks by the militia. Through the forest, over hills, and across streams they plodded, taking the easiest way for the wagon, and costing them a bit of time to do so, as there were few paths wide enough that didn't require some clearing ahead of the way. In the end, it took the caravan roughly three days to make it back, arriving late in the evening of the third day. The cart rumbled slowly across the wooden southeast bridge, the driver taking care not to make a costly mistake: the bridge was barely wider than the axle of the cart.

A warm reunion between the children (and Aubrin) that Torg had carried and their parents who had marched with Aidan and Ulva ensued, and many of the militia gawked at their new refuge. Though Fort Trevalay was hardly hidden, as was the case with Misthome, it was far homier, and provided much better defenses in the case of a land attack. Practical heads prevailed over the excitement, however, and soon everyone was lending a hand in unpacking and settling in.

Aubrin made her way into the tower and slowly climbed the stairs until she stood in what was Ibzairiak's lair. She inspected the shrine the dragon had kept, and explained that it was devoted to Cyth-V'sug, the demon lord of fungus and parasites. She informed the Fangbreakers of this (sans Torg, who was away), explaining that Cyth-V'sug hungered to absorb the whole of Golarion into his twisted and corrupt realm of rot, disease, and infestation. She noted that the demon lord enjoyed elves as sacrifices in particular, and that the demon known as Treerazor is considered to be Cyth-V'sug's most powerful spawn, though the former once rebelled against the latter and the two are no longer considered to be allies.

Septimus

"On it, sir," Cobb Greenwood saluted. "I'll have them sweep the edge of the forest first, and then head out from there."

Torg

The day after Torg returned to Fort Trevalay, he once more set out, this time in an easterly direction in search of the well-hidden town of Crystalhurst, a secret and insular druid enclave hidden deep in the southern Fangwood. Landing just outside one of the entrances (a deceptively large, but very well-hidden breach in the thick undergrowth), the dwarf druid was greeted by a tall, green-skinned female half-orc, a bow at the ready and an armored boar at her side. "Who goes?" she demanded in Druidic.


https://i.imgur.com/AXqaOi8.png

For those keeping track for downtime, we're now into the evening of Day 5 for downtime for everyone but Torg, who is on Day 3.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Still feeling slightly off after going from elemental to normal form, Torg quickly composed himself, answering in the secret tongue of the druids.
"Hail, sister. I come seeking the wisdom of those who cleave to the Green Faith and its teachings. Torg Stone is my name, druid of the Fangwood Circle."

[Othniel]

Crystalhurst

"The Green's blessings to you, Torg Stone," the half-orc replied in the same language. Her tone shifted from firm to gentle once Torg answered her in the druidic tongue. "I am Juniper. I guard this way into our home. I do not believe I have seen you before, but you speak the language and bear the symbols of our way," she added, indicating the holly and mistletoe druids used for their magical foci. "You are free to come and go as you wish, save only that you keep Crystalhurst secret, even from any non-druid friends or family you may have, save in the direst need. They do not understand our ways, and Crystalhurst is...wild." Juniper smiled and glanced down at her boar companion. "Animals walk freely among us, for we respect and do not fear one another here."

"You would do well to introduce yourself to Archdruid Aspen Zora, who leads us. We can use all druids of the Fangwood in these dark times, and she is said to have a great store of wisdom for her age."

[Nefarion Xid]

Besides enchanting, Septimus used his two weeks of downtime to magically dig a 220' long trench, 10' wide and 10' deep in the middle of the north western approach, designed to force encroaching forces to either follow precarious path along the river, or route south and face the full bulwark of the fortress.

He also sterilized the tower and lower buildings, purging them of any fungal infection that Torg had not claimed as pets. The northernmost room of the keep he claimed as his quarters and laboratory space.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg thanked Juniper as he entered the strange community. Crystalhurst was far larger than Torg had expected, yet it seemed strangely... empty. He began to wonder whether many of the druids had gone off into the forest to protect it... or perhaps to flee the Ironfang entirely.

The wild animals roaming the streets was a unique experience as well. The community seemed to Torg like a strange utopian dream... peaceful and enlightened, and yet utterly cut off from the outside world. Such was the nature of his faith in many ways. He made his way to the council's cabin, an important looking structure on the northwestern side of the central lake.

There, he eventually was allowed audience with the arch druid Aspen Zora. Torg greeted the young woman in Druidic, bowing to show deference to his superior; though she was doubtless half a century younger than him or more, age began to mean little and less to druids, especially the more experienced ones. Torg was beginning to understand why: his own body was increasingly an inconsistent thing, feeling more and more like a temporary habitation for his enlightened will.

"Aspen Zora, I am humbled that you would grant one such as me an audience. I am Torg Stone, a mere novice druid of the Fangwood Circle not two or three months ago. War and hardship have been my tutors as of late, and I find myself much closer to understanding the Green Truth than before. I have seen the depredations of the Ironfang Legion's assault on the forest firsthand, and done what I could to protect those under my aegis. I come to you in haste, for I have duties to attend to elsewhere, but it has been too long since I heard the council of others of the faith.
What word travels between the Circles? How fares the forest and its creatures in these times of trouble? And what should I be doing about it, as a druid?"

[Othniel]

Crystalhurst

When Torg entered the Council's Cabin, it was empty save for Archdruid Aspen Zora who was sitting on an elevated chair, which was in turn surrounded by a semicircle of shorter council seats. He knew her immediately, for her youth was apparent - she couldn't have seen more than twenty-five winters - and the fact that she held an intricately-carved and painted wooden club, perhaps a rod, denoting her status as head of the council. She wore a green robe, neatly trimmed in autumn reds, golds, and browns; and entwined in her hair was a flame-red chrysanthemum, one of those few late-season flowers that heartily resist the encroaching cold season. In spite of her youth, she seemed to radiate an inner serenity the much older druid would have expected in one thrice her age or older, and her eyes gazed upon the dwarf with an intensity so strong, she may as well have been staring into his soul. Sky-blue tattoos decorated her face and arms in intricate patterns, some of which Torg recognized as the signs of beasts or plants, while others were wholly strange to him and evoked a sense of something fey-related.

When she spoke, her voice seemed to resonate with a calmness that was felt as much as it was heard. "I welcome another brother of the Green to Crystalhurst. All druids of the Fangwood may petition the Council. It is your right as one of our number, though this be your first visit to our town." Aspen Zora inclined her head in greeting to Torg, and a warm smile briefly graced her lips before serenity once more claimed her features. "Our hearts go out to the good people of Phaendar and the surrounding villages. Know that many who reside here are with you in heart and spirit, if not in body. The druids of Crystalhurst are allies of the people of Nirmathas in their struggle against Molthune - for Molthune would use the Fangwood for fuel or simply see it razed to ferret out every last Nirmathi - and we deem these Ironfang Legionaries to act alike."

Aspen Zora sighed quietly as Torg asked his questions. "The Fangwood does not fair well, brother. Would that we were greater in numbers. You no doubt noted the absence of many of our folk from their homes here - the reason is more than simply hobgoblin invaders. They are a threat, to be sure, but your brothers and sisters fight one the Council has deemed greater: a Darkblight has taken root in the north of our forest and spreads as a cancer. Already it has claimed the northernmost circles, killing or corrupting plant, animal, fey, and person alike into foul servants of the Prince of the Blasted Heath. Many unwittingly, of course, but servants no less. Thither many of our folk have gone in attempt to stem the tide and heal the sickness, but there are places even our more experienced druids cannot penetrate. Were not matters to the south also dire, I would beg you to stay and help, but alas, we must fight two wars at once."

"You must decide what you think is right, but if you would take my counsel, I should say to continue aiding the Nirmathi in their resistance against the Ironfang Legion. And then, if and when you think the time is right, come to our aid."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg's bushy brow furrowed deeply, his frown visible through his tangled beard.
"The news is even more dire than I feared. You've the right of it, of course, Archdruid. I fear a major offensive is in the works, and the Nirmathi will need my help if they're to hold off the Ironfang. If you know of Fort Trevalay, you can send animal messengers there if there's any pressing news. When the time comes, you can count on my aid, of course. My companions in battle could likewise lend a hand. They are young, and their spirits roil with anger at losing their home and loved ones. They do not follow the Green Way, but they're doughty fighters.

I shan't waste any more of your valuable time, Archdruid, but I have one last question for you. I encountered an enemy druid amongst the Ironfang, a hobgoblin female. She was slain by my companions in battle, but I did not have the chance to speak with her. She was training animals for combat, and I spoke with one of them who mentioned that this druid was only cooperating with the Ironfang reluctantly. I have the power to reincarnate her. She's a follower of the druidic teachings, though we may be foes politically.
Would it be folly to attempt such a thing? If her spirit were willing to return, she would still be a druid, a servant of nature. Surely she wouldn't turn her back on something as horrific as a Darkblight? It just felt... wrong, to let a druid die so callously, especially if she were forced into aiding our foes against her will.
But this talk of blight and fell names on the wind gives me pause... I believe this druid had an interest in fungus. I thought little of it at the time, for fungi are part of the natural world.
I suppose it's all moot if she's not willing to return to a new body. But I'd like your thoughts on the matter, Archdruid, before I attempt something brash."

He produced the lock of the hobgoblin's hair he had cut off, holding it in his palm as he contemplated his dilemma.

[Othniel]

Crystalhurst

Archdruid Aspen Zora was silent for a long moment. When she finally replied, her words were slow. "When someone dies here in Crystalhurst, we always offer the choice of reincarnation. Such is our law. Some tell friends or loved ones in life not to attempt the spell. Others make the decision to refuse once the call is made. You ask me to judge one I have never met and who - to my knowledge - has never set foot within our town. It is a difficult task, and I do not think it right for me to make the decision. I shall leave it in your hands, and you shall receive no judgment from the Council as to your actions in this regard. Furthermore, I shall give you something that may aid you should you choose to show mercy to this wayward druid." The Archdruid rose and reached for a pouch at her belt and withdrew a small, wooden box. It was rectangular and shorter than it was wide, and held shut by leather wrappings. Aspen Zora took a step down toward Torg and handed the box to him. "This is one application of a magical ointment made from the same oils used in the ritual of reincarnation. It has a virtue of allowing the recipient some small choice in the form of their return if it is applied during the New Moon. You will have to decide within the next few days if you wish to bestow this additional blessing."

"Feel free to peruse the shops as well," the Archdruid added. "We have a few things you will not find elsewhere. Now, is there anything else I can help you with, brother?"

You have received one Salve of the Second Chance. (http://www.archivesofnethys.com/MagicWondrousDisplay.aspx?FinalName=Salve%20of%20t he%20Second%20Chance)

Fort Trevalay

The day after two sets of Rangers had been sent on a long-range exploration circuit across the Hollow Hills, another Ranger scouting not too far from Fort Trevalay returned to report the presence of a large band of humanoids in the woods. Ranger Wintheris reported counting some twenty-three in total, and finding the group non-threatening, Wintheris cautiously approached. She spoke to their leader, a man named Naspen Jarth, and asked a few probing questions. As it turned out, Jarth's survivalist group had been born similar to that of the Poisonwood Irregulars, save that they had been far less successful in their enterprises, having suffered an appalling near-fifty percent casualty rate.

Several among the band were from Phaendar, while the rest had been gathered from the smaller towns and villages that dotted the plains west of Phaendar or were tucked close to the eaves of the Fangwood. Most were a mix of humans, half-elves, dwarves, and halflings, though a curious quartet of Elves - two girl children, one boy child, and a rather youthful adult female Elf - were included in the bunch as well. They had fled the Elven community at Cavlinor, a small outpost south of Phaendar where a small number of Elves had begun tending a grove of trees that would one day become living Elven structures. The Ironfang had apparently attacked the outpost even before targeting Phaendar.

Wintheris reported that all had seemed on the verge of starvation and most appeared to be afflicted with some sort of ailment as well, though what it was she could not say beyond reporting the common symptoms as stomach pain, fatigue, and anemia. Naspen Jarth had asked Wintheris if she would report their position to anyone who could help them, as most of the group was now too weak to go on much further. They'd been traveling in the area and smelled smoke, but had halted in their present location to deliberate and wait to see if any of their number improved.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg bowed graciously to the senior druid before excusing himself. For a while, he wandered the strange streets of Crystalhurst. He felt strangely disappointed. Crystalhurst seemed extremely insular; the dwarf had been hoping for council reflecting the druidic circles of the Fangwood area as a whole. Even if Crystalhurst was a nexus for their faith, it seemed Torg was largely on his own.

But then, the druidic faith was a strange one, as he well knew. Like the wild animals they revered, they were often left to their own devices, to live or die on the merits of their own strengths or weaknesses. Even folly, it seemed, was left to his own judgement.

That evening, Torg left the immediate borders of the town, to be more at one with impartial nature herself. In a secluded grove, as the last of the fall crickets sang their slowing song, the dwarf placed the lock of Jang's hair on a pile of fallen leaves, and began spreading the special oils he had acquired in Crystalhurst in specific patterns of natural significance.

Over the course of ten minutes he chanted and prayed, making a crescent motion with his holly and mistletoe at each of the cardinal directions. He would know if Jang's soul was willing to return, for a new body would begin to grow at the conclusion of the ritual, formed from the natural elements on hand.


Torg will spend 1000 gp of his own funds to trade for the special oils needed for the reincarnate spell and attempt to bring Jang back. It takes 10 minutes, afterwards the new body takes 1 hour to form if she's willing.

[Othniel]

Forest Outside Crystalhurst

For a moment, it almost seemed as if Torg's labors would be in vain, for there was no immediate reaction. And then, slowly, the sample Torg had kept disintegrated into ash which blew away on a gentle breeze. The forest around the dwarf seemed to sigh, then suddenly the pattern Torg had made with the oils flared a brilliant green for a brief moment and then dimmed. A faint glow began to shine from the ground as tiny motes of light - green, red, orange, brown, and all the other colors of the forest - started drifting out of the ground, the rocks, the trees all around him. One by one, the motes started to gather on the ground where the sample had been, and as they did so, the shape of a humanoid body began to form.

The figure seemed to be of wood, and grew like wood. It was like watching years of growth compressed into minutes, and the body was so lifelike that it almost had the appearance of a sleeping dryad, yet lifeless...for the moment. As Torg watched over the course of the next hour, the body slowly grew until it resembled the full figure of an adult human woman in the prime of her life. When the process was complete, the symbols flared once more and the body began to soften to the appearance of flesh. Curled wooden hair almost melted into the silky dark brown of a real live person, and hazel eyes stared uncertainly up at the trees. She blinked, and a pair of tears streaked down the side of her face as she whispered one word, "Ruanni..."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg squatted nearby as the reincarnated druid came to. Resembling a moss-covered boulder, he spoke softly from the dusky shadows in the secret Druidic tongue.
"Do you know me, sister? If you did, I wonder if you would have returned..."
He paused a moment before continuing.
"Do you recall that enormous vulture on the roof of the tower? That was me. Not long afterwards that dragon sent me fleeing, and by the time I came to my senses most of the fighting was over, and you were dead.
I spoke with the mountain lion in the courtyard, and they seemed to think you served the Ironfang with reluctance. I doubt they'd accept you now in your new form. Freedom is yours now, if you'd take it.
My name is Torg. You don't owe me anything; I may have cast the spell, but it were the forest what gave you a new body and a new life.
We're just outside a town called Crystalhurst, a secret place only for druids such as ourselves. You'll find sanctuary here, away from the eyes of civilization and the Ironfang. But there's dark times on the horizon, something about a Darkblight on the rise. The Fangwood will have need of every last druid soon enough, methinks."

[Othniel]

Forest Outside Crystalhurst

As Torg began to speak, the now-human Jang started looking around for the source of his voice. Her eyes flashed with pain and anger, and she let out a low growl. Then she flexed and quickly took the form of a cougar. Jang rose onto all fours and crouched low, listening to the dwarf speak, but prepared to leap away if necessary. By the time Torg was finished, she seemed to have relaxed slightly, and she stared silently at him for a long moment. Then she spoke. "A Darkblight. So that is what the dragon is obsessed with." Jang glanced northward for a moment, and then back at Torg. "It is strange to find succor from an enemy, but it is not unwelcome. I will think on what you have said, but I must go." With that, Jang sprang away into the forest and took off at a fast sprint.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Having returned to the fort mere days earlier, Aidan was still in the process of reclaiming the fungal workshop for his own when word came of invalids in the forest. Reclining back in the most comfortable chair he could requisition from the fort, Aidan shot a glance to where Oreld was organizing their assorted glassware.

"Vane, I hate to leave you to finish the work but those poor wretches might require my assistance. Start categorizing the local fauna while I'm away."

Standing and cracking his spine, Aidan took a few moments to strap his armor into place and collect his tools. Emerging into the light of the courtyard, he strode towards the newly-returned scouts.

"Fine work, rangers. Alert Commander Veric that I require his assistance - we shall tend to our fellow refugees. But double the watch during our absence. The Ironfang has proven a crafty foe, and I would not be surprised if this proved some new stratagem."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg had returned to Fort Trevalay after his mysterious absence. The dwarf seemed slightly more withdrawn than normal, the weight of some new burden furrowing his brow. Upon hearing of the group of sick refugees, Torg prayed for suitable magic to help ease the progress of disease.

"I'll go with you, Aidan. I'll set up a quarantine area outside the fort; should be comfortable enough for them, but we shouldn't let anyone through the walls until we're sure they're not contagious."


Before leaving the fort, Torg casts the Rite of Bodily Purity on himself, which lasts for 24 hours and gives him some bonuses against disease and stuff.

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay

Oreld Vane waved Aidan off cheerfully (for Vane), simply glad to finally have a real structure over his head that was not simply some dank cave. Out in the courtyard, Ranger Wintheris saluted Aidan and went to do as he had bidden. Veric was summoned, and Ulva had decided to join them as well. Only Septimus remained behind, busy in his tower room. Minutes later, the quartet of Fangbreakers (and Rollo) set off. It didn't take long to reach the refugee camp, and once they had, they saw all twenty-three refugees, including their leader Naspen Jarth, most sitting or lying upon the ground. Many seemed too weak to stand.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Before the group got any closer, Torg cast a simple protective spell on his companions, including Rollo.
"That ought to help. Better see what's wrong with them, Aidan. I'll set up the quarantine area."

The druid began to chant; ten minutes later, a clean, comfortable grove of trees would emerge, complete with a fountain of clear water and edible fruit.


Torg casts Remove Sickness on everyone but himself, giving them a +4 morale bonus on saves vs. disease. Torg will then take 10 minutes to cast Grove of Respite, which will last for 16 hours. It creates a comfortable area with clean water and some food (Torg has even more food where that came from), and it has a mental alarm ability that alerts Torg should someone enter the grove.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Opening the bag containing his healer's kit, Aidan squatted down next to Naspen Jarth.

"You all certainly seem like you've had a time of it. Let's see if we can't identify the cause of your fatigue."

Probing the man's abdomen, Aidan's fingers eventually brushed against an irregularity. Pulling a magnifying glass and a probe from the bag, he pressed harder, and hissed. A rapid examination of the man's eyes and extremities confirmed the diagnosis. Without another word to him, Aidan rose and returned to the party. Leaning in, he whispered to Veric and Torg.

"We're going to need glossleaf, as much as you can find. The leader is in the last stages of gestation for wolf-in-sheeps-clothing eggs. He has maybe two days before they hatch and put him out of his misery. If he's infected, the entire group could be exposed, and we can't afford to have a small legion of horrors infesting our home ground."

Aidan remained long enough to ensure Torg and Veric understood the situation, then turned back to the refugees. Moving methodically from person to person, he confirmed the diagnosis.

To start, Aidan quaffs an extract of Channel Vigor, putting it into Mind. Aidan then rolls Nature in place of Heal. If this result is pants, he'll try again taking 10.

Nature: [roll0]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg had been expecting a disease; he had not been expecting a foul infection from an alien monster. He had been prepared to take the sickness into himself, and his resolve did not waver, but the prospect seemed far more unsettling to him now.

With Aidan's help, the druid was guided to the four weakest individuals, who seemed on the doorstep of death. With a grimace, Torg cast a spell on each of them, transferring the eggs into his own body via magic. Free of the infestation, he then cast a spell to restore some of their depleted strength.

"Ulva, take these four back to the fort; they're healed. They'll be needing rest, and clean food and water. Now, I suppose Veric and I should head out looking for glossleaf."

The druid went off into the forest, trying to ignore the fact that a clutch of parasitic eggs was festering in his body.


Torg casts Accept Affliction on the four worst off folks, followed by a Lesser Restoration to cure them of 1d4 ability damage.

Torg now has the parasite infestation! YAY!

Survival check to find some gloss leaf?
[roll0]

[Othniel]

Forest Clearing

As the Fangbreakers moved among the refugees, and Naspen Jarth told the group's story. The majority of his little band of survivalists were drawn from villages, hamlets, and thorpes spread between the Marideth River, the Hollow Hills, and the western eaves of the Fangwood. They'd suffered a horrendous fifty-percent casualty rate since banding together: many had been lost to wild animals, bad food, or other dangers, and they'd even stumbled into an Ironfang patrol that had butchered a number of their people before Jarth had organized a counterattack. The past few weeks they had been subsisting on meager rations and wondering what they'd do with winter not far off when they'd encountered a wounded dear and slain it for food. Jarth was reasonably sure that the meat had been tainted and caused the group's current illness.

A few of the group were from Phaendar, including the two remaining Habernashy Boys. The eldest had died in the front yard of the Phaendar Trading Company, but these two had somehow managed to elude the hobgoblins by fleeing south, and eventually lashing together some wood to make a serviceable raft with which to cross the river. Perhaps the most interesting of the number were four Elves that had escaped from the ruin of Cavlinor: three children (two girls and a boy) and the adult sister of the other three. Cavlinor was a small Elven colony that was devoted to growing trees into living dwellings. The Elves of Cavlinor occasionally traded for goods with Phaendar, though relations between the two settlements were cool, and the Elves kept mostly to themselves.

The Ironfang had hit the Elven settlement even before Phaendar, and the children would speak nothing of the night they had somehow survived. Their adult sister, Istril, introduced her siblings as Estelwen and Oreldis, and Linnion; and explained how they'd been away picking berries a ways south of the settlement when the attack came. She'd kept them hidden until nightfall and braved a perilous crossing the Marideth River by night in a small, but trusty boat her people kept hidden for emergencies. The three children looked to be several years younger than Septimus, though Elves matured far slower than humans and were likely several years older. They clung tightly to Istril, who seemed on the verge of tears as she stared pleadingly at the four from Fort Trevalay who they did what they could for the group.

[PepperP.]

Veric

Veric returned with a successful large lot of glossleaf and gave it to Aidan. He listened to the refugees sad but not unfamiliar tale sympathetically, they had all been struggling to find security since the Ironfang Invasion. He suddenly felt much more thankful of their own situation.

"I'll get more." He tried to make his tone reassuring, but he couldn't completely hide the worry from his face.

Veric gathers Glossleaf again. Survival +17 (Favorite Terrain)
[roll[1d20+17[/roll]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg stayed with the refugees in the conjured grove that night; the interior of the grove was pleasant and tranquil, and the dwarf used his skills with herbalism and traditional healing to help make the infested folk comfortable. The doses of medicine Aidan brewed helped many of them, but there wasn't enough to go around for them all.

The dwarf slept fitfully, as the hideous eggs gestated in his stomach, but his rock-hard constitution prevented any meaningful progress. A dose of foul-tasting antiplague further enhanced his already impressive immune system, such that he mostly attended to the ills of the others, ignoring his own discomfort.

The next morning, he prayed for a new allotment of spells, renewing the duration of the quarantine grove. Once more, he took four more parasites into his own body, curing those who looked closest to the brink of death. Now carrying eight of the eggs within himself, he attempted to rid himself of the infestation with his magic, using a vial of antiplague to lend extra potency to the spell.


On the next day, Torg re-casts Grove of Respite, then hits four more victims with Accept Affliction.

He will then use an anti plague vial as a power component for Remove Disease on himself, for a +2 CL bonus.
CL check: [roll0]

[Tychris1]

Having spent almost the entire day working to find berries, Ulva returned with much less than she had anticipated, and set to work making up for lost time at her forge. Though she was slightly more talkative out in the woods with her ranger companion (Occasionally gushing about her admiration for the Chernasardo Rangers) she had entered an entirely silent mindset upon being amongst the refugees. It was just nothing but her and the metal before her. Though she interacted with an inanimate object, she had felt herself in a conversation of sorts. A giving and taking of ideas, a debate on not only ideal but form, and a swelling of the spirit that she had read to be similar to a moral victory.

An hour had passed as she awoke from a form of unconscious procession of monotonous motion, her hands holding over a solid black breastplate with emblazoned green heart, and upon softly thumbing said anatomically incorrect image she looked out of her tent. Sighing, she undid her hair with practiced elegance, donned her rudimentary farming clothes, and left her tent. Moving quickly, Ulva stared at the starry sky as her breathe polluted the air with translucent vapors. She arrived at her destination, a lonely tree on the outskirts of the camp. Taking out a cigar, she produced her flint and steel, and steadily puffed on it for a few minutes. Her sole eye scanned the entirety of the small camp. A single semi glowing sphere leering from behind the shadows of the tree. Extinguishing the nascent flame, Ulva resolved herself, and walked back down to the bulk of the refugee camp. Entering into the tent of the Habernashy brothers, she held her hands up to hush their stirring outcries, and looked sternly at the two of them. Her eye bulged with a simmering rage, yet nothing came of it, and she simply sat down on the dirt amidst them.

"What happened to your brothers was ****ed. I never liked you guys in Phaender... but nobody deserves that. I won't stop till he's avenged. Till everyone is. You have my word." She didn't stare at either of them as she said this, merely kept her head at a stiff angle pointed to the ground as sculpted elbows rested on knees. Standing suddenly, she left the tent and returned just as suddenly. A large bundle was wrapped carefully in her hands, her arms quickly gave way, and with a catlike tug she unloaded the whole thing before them in a clean roll-out. Her expertly crafted iron axe with menacing carvings upon its back, her black and green kite shield chipping at the edges, and a long spear with its head displaced slightly on the tip.

"If you want some. Get some."

[CockroachTeaParty]

[The following day]

Torg went to sleep that night without any parasitic eggs in his guts, and was thankful for it. Aidan's medicine, brewed from the glossleaf the others had gathered, had been largely effective, but as the next day broke there were still five infected refugees. Once again, Torg absorbed them into his body, but this time his own magic failed to kill the eggs.

Fortunately, there were a handful of unused doses of the medicine that the dwarf gulped down, in a last-ditch effort to avoid surgery. After asking Aidan to inspect him for any remaining signs of the infestation, he was given a clean bill of health. Many of the refugees were still weakened, but they were in no more danger of giving birth to aberrant horrors.

The druid made sure that the new refugees had enough to eat; the logistics of finding space for them in the increasingly cramped fort he left to the others.

[Othniel]

Fort Trevalay Area

With the deadly infestation gone, the refugees almost en masse gave up on Naspen Jarth as their leader and begged the Poisonwood Irregulars to accept them. Even the elves, after they'd revived some, seemed far more talkative and the children chased each other about while their sister Istril, whose tears had been replaced with a reserved smile, thanked Torg personally. She had nothing to offer by way of payment, but hugged the dwarf to show her thanks.

The Habernashy brothers, confronted by Ulva's offer of weapons, accepted her offer. They seemed to have changed since she'd seen them last, having taken on more sombre attitudes. They quietly thanked her for the weapons and vowed to serve as best they could if allowed to stay.

This brings us roughly halfway through your 15 days of downtime. What're y'all doing now? (Aside from Septimus who, I think, is still busy crafting)

[CockroachTeaParty]

[day 10 of downtime]

Torg returned to the patch of forest where he planted the leshy, only to find that no spirit had come to answer the call. Dejected, Torg returned to Fort Trevalay in a foul mood.

[day 15 of downtime]

With the group preparing for a trip to Longshadow, Torg left the fort to make preparations of his own. With a basic spell, he called out to the forest, seeking the mightiest of the forest's great cats.


Torg casts Extended Call Animal, giving the nearest dire tiger 16 hours to reach Torg (no save). Should one arrive, he'll try to get it to help out via Wild Empathy and other spells he has prepared.

[Othniel]

Fangwood Forest

Torg's spell was successfully cast, and it seemed as if his quarry was remarkably close, for in just two short hours' time he was rewarded. A light rustle in the bushes was the only sound that heralded the approach of the great cat the dwarf had called, and then it was before him in all its monstrous feline glory. Large incisors as long as a dagger hung from the creature's mouth, and while it eyed Torg with curiousity, the dwarf knew that he was in no danger here, at least while his spell lasted.

[CockroachTeaParty]

When Torg was a novice druid, even a scant few months ago, there was a trepidation when he interacted with wild animals, even with his repertoire of magic. But now, after all of his struggles, he felt more confident, and closer to the beating heart of wild nature than ever before.

Fearless, he spent several moments studying the great cat's body language, establishing himself as a friend. A single 'chuff' informed him of his success. He transformed himself into a mighty sabertooth, so that he might speak with the proud beast in its own tongue.

"Hail, proud hunter. I am a friend, and a friend of all the forest. A guardian of the green, and all that grows within. I seek the aid of the forest's mightiest fighters, one such as yourself. Have you seen the gray-skinned two-legs that march through the trees, burning and despoiling? I hunt these creatures. My companions and I oppose them, and seek to send them fleeing our borders with their tails between their legs. Will you join me? We journey south soon, to a great town of the native two-legs. There will be good hunting there, I can promise, for I believe the invaders will descend on this place like vultures to a corpse."

[Othniel]

Fangwood Forest

"There are some like what you describe," the great cat answered in her own tongue. "A pack has settled half a day's walk toward the setting sun. They hunt other two-legs and have eaten some. I did not like the look of them."

[CockroachTeaParty]

With a few days to spare before the group was ready to leave, Torg introduced his companions (and Rollo) to the mighty dire tiger he had befriended.
"This great huntress has told me that a group of humanoids has been attacking and eating people a half-day's journey to the west of us. I'm not sure if hobbos are cannibals, but we shouldn't leave such a threat this close to the fort and the refugees. Who wants to join me on the hunt?"

[Othniel]

Fangwood Forest

It was after the Fangbreakers had made it some four miles from Fort Trevalay that Aidan, Torg, and Veric began to notice interesting signs in the forest: some sort of very large creature had clearly marked the area as its territory. Trees bore sizeable claw and tooth marks, and upon many of them the bark had been entirely pulled away up to ten or even fifteen feet up the tree. Rollo whined quietly and gave Veric an expressively wolf-like look of alarm.

Based on the markings, you're pretty sure you've entered the territory of a dire bear, and a big one at that.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dire tiger-Torg and his new dire tiger friend stalked ahead in the vanguard of the group, powerful muscles moving their lithe frames through the woods with disconcerting silence and precision. As the signs of the dire bear became evident, smilodon-Torg turned to the group, his huge fangs giving his voice an odd inflection, not quite a lisp.

"Hm. A dire bear. This could be another useful ally. At the very least, I should let the beast know of our presence nearby; we wouldn't want it killing our hunters accidentally."

Torg cast a few spells on himself, thickening his hide even further. He then informed the tigress of his intention to track the bear, suggesting they only use violence to defend themselves if need be. He then addressed his companions again.
"I've a spell that could very well bend the bear to my will. Even so, I may be able to parlay with the creature. I ask that you all hang back a bit, and only attack should negotiations fail. This bear isn't the man-eater that we seek, according to the tigress. I've got the scent; Veric, you and Rollo can make doubly sure we don't lose the trail. I'll forge ahead with the tigress. And Septimus... could you spare one of those armor spells?"


Torg will cast Barkskin on himself, and ask Sept for a Mage Armor.

Survival check to follow the scent trail: [roll0]

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus obliged the dwarf. He didn't look enthusiastic about postponing their journey forward to deal with more problems in the forest. Wasn't that what the ranger squads were for? He didn't complain further, choosing instead to take out his grimoire and pass his signet ring over the Web spell in case he needed to restrain the bear.

[Othniel]

Fangwood Forest

With the scent of a tiger to guide him combined with the dwarf's natural skill at tracking, Torg was able to quickly determine the direction of the dire bear's movement and began to follow. The creature turned out to be far closer than what would be considered comfortable...for a non-druid, and Torg found that the trail ended at a clearing roughly thirty-feet in diameter and the mouth of a cave that opened into darkness. From inside the cave came the low rumble of the bear and...four similar, but higher-pitched sounds.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Tiger-Torg turned to the tigress, telling her to wait behind (maintaining roughly 80 ft. of distance).

Casting a spell so that he might speak the bear-tongue, Torg prowled up near the mouth of the cave. To an observer, they would have seen a smilodon roar like a bear, but it was nevertheless intelligible to any ursine dwellers within.
"Great bears! Hear me! I mean you no harm! I come with news of the forest!"

[Othniel]

Fangwood Forest, Entrance Bear Cave

It is difficult to render the subtle nuances of bear-speech into the common tongue, but in this moment the basic understanding Torg received from the mama bear's reply was this: "Shut up and go away or I'm going to eat you."

<aggressive roaring>

[CockroachTeaParty]

"Very well! Avoid the great stone man-cave in the direction of sunrise! The two-legs there are no threat to you! I shall warn them to leave you alone!"

Tiger-Torg returned to his tigress friend, motioning for her to follow as they returned to the rest of the party.
"It appears to be a mother dire bear and her cubs. I imagine they're getting ready for hibernation soon, so we should leave them well alone. Veric, do the rangers have a way to mark the area? Any hunters or foragers in the region should be aware of the bears and give them a healthy distance."

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus took out his chipped sword and scratched the word "BEAR" and a crude skull and crossbones into the dirt along with an arrow pointing towards the den.

[Othniel]

Fangwood Forest

Having bearly escaped violent confrontation with the creature (thanks to Torg), the Fangbreakers continued on! After several hours of picking their way through a continually-diminishing forest, the tigress paused and indicated to the druid that they were close.

640 XP each for not poking the bear.

[Nefarion Xid]

Apart from a brief intermission to celebrate his birthday with a few drinks or bargaining with Veld, the young sorcerer had spent the last two weeks confined to his quarters where he stared at a piece of hell-forged jewelry and a pair of sweaty gauntlets. When the druid and his cohort indicated their quarry was ahead, he began thumbing through his spellbook for the Fly spell.

"No. No. Let me," he said attempting to forestall any tedious planning. "I've been inculcating for weeks now and if I don't incinerate something soon, I'm going to lose my mind."

Septimus rattled off his incantations rapidly, then went off in search of a problem to be solved with fire.

Swap ring to Fly. Cast Fly and Invisibility.

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

An invisible Septimus coasted forward through the trees, and soon the camp was visible. An area had been marked off with wood pickets to prevent large animals or perhaps mounted opponents from simply charging in, providing the area with some small fortification. Three tents were pitched within the bounds, and a campfire was blazing in the cool autumn air. A pair of well-armored and armed hobgoblins sat nearby eating a meal, while two others made a slow circuit of the camp, keeping watch with bows at the ready.
Click Me! (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Ws5wamIu_VRIB3lEY0HNY3B3TVggHvIe1LECUuP6D8U/edit#gid=530659397)

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus continued on to the far side of the camp where he settled into the branches of an old tree. In the brush below he created a figment of Veric suddenly wailing in pain. <Ghost Sounds>"Oh gods! I've broke my leg! Why would you forsake me, Erastil!? I'm going to die out here alone! I don't want to a die a virgin!"

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

At the sound of "Veric" screaming outside the camp, the pair of patrolling guards looked sharply in that direction. The two who were eating grumpily set aside their meals and stood while the archers slowly approached the western picket. "Who goes there?" one shouted loudly in Common.

The other glared angrily at his companion, speaking in Goblin, "Pah, it's a trick! Probably some fey mischief or something."

Another voice sounded from inside the large tent, (Goblin) "What's going on out there? I am NOT to be disturbed!"

[Nefarion Xid]

"Is someone there? Oh please, I've fallen into a gopher hole and broken my leg!" Septimus used Mage Hand to shake the bush.

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

"Garn! There's nobody there, Purga. I'm telling you, it's a trick." One archer kept staring into the forest in attempt to see where the voice was coming from while the other stepped closer to his compatriot. Meanwhile, the two from the campfire came over and had drawn long, cruel-looking bastard swords. They wore well-made plate armour and were outfitted for battle.

"Maybe it's one of them rangers we stashed, Uvrut. Maybe 'e crawled out of his bindings and fell in a hole."

"What do you think he'd be yelling for help from us then. We're just gonna eat him tomorrow." The other archer barked a laugh, amused at his own jest.

"I'm gonna check it out. Watch my back!"

"Fine, but if a redcap gets you, you're on your own, Purga. Ha!"

Purga slowly moved out from the camp, crouching as he moved slowly. Creeping toward the source of the noise, he stopped some 10 feet back and shouted. "You there manling? Purga's come to fetch you...for the stew pot!"

Back inside the camp, two more hobgoblins made themselves seen: One, a tall, thin fellow with a pair of eyeglasses and a bandolier filled with bottles and vials; and the other, a broad, imposing female who carried a heavy flail and wore plate armor decorated in places with a stylized chain and manacle painted on. On a chain, she wore what Septimus recognized as the holy symbol of Hadregash.

"Cut out this racket, you lot. We're not so far from the fort our boys lost a few weeks back. Wouldn't want any of you fine gentlemen to end up with your heads on stakes. Kill whatever is making that sound, and then prepare to break camp."

The hobgoblins in the camp grumbled at the orders, but moved to carry them out...

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus snapped his fingers in the direction of the Ghost Sounds effect, transforming it from hapless sobbing to ye olde progressive rock. In the next instant he cast Greater Invisibility on himself and began incinerating things, as promised.

[roll0] fireball damage (20 reflex)
[roll1] stealth?

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

"ATTACK!" Screamed the leader, and she immediately cast a spell upon herself.

The hob next to her calmly slipped a vial from his bandoleer and drank it down swiftly before glancing toward the trees from where the fireball had originated. "There!" The hob pointed to Septimus' approximate location and then dashed away from the leader. "Separate, do not make a big target for it!"

The rest of the hobs did as he suggested, spacing themselves out and eyeing the tree in which Septimus sat.

The archers each cast a spell on themselves. The leader casts a spell on herself. The alchemist drinks an extract and moves. The soldiers move.

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus muttered something snide about 'elf magic', but was too taken with rage to properly taunt his foes. Another red bead detonated in the middle of the camp.

[roll0] 5 and 6 (20 reflex)

[Tychris1]

Hearing loud explosions, Ulva pulled the white leather of her magical gloves fully onto her hands, and felt her glaive thrum with justice.


Move and WARRIOR SPIRIT for Bane (HobGobbos) and a further +2

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

The alchemist threw back an extract and began to rise into the air northward, pointing at Septimus' location and shouting, "RIGHT THERE, PRIESTESS! THE HUMAN IS THERE!"

Lifting up up her divine focus, the priestess uttered a few words and gestured, calling forth a vertical column of divine fire that rose up and passed over Septimus, raking him with divine flames.

Then the archers took aim and fired, while the solders positioned themselves (drawing bows as they moved) and then dropped swords where they stood, and fired.

Alchemist consumes an extract and moves.

Spellcaster is going to cast a spell 20' riiiiight under Septimus' location. He needs to make a DC 19 reflex save (for half) or suffer [roll0] damage (half fire, half divine).

Noting where Septimus should be, the two hobgoblin rangers draw and fire...

H3: Rapid Shot Deadly Aim Attack 1: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]
Confirm? [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Miss chance (hits on 51-100): [roll5]

Rapid Shot Deadly Aim Attack 2: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
Confirm? [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]
Miss chance (hits on 51-100): [roll10]

H4: Rapid Shot Deadly Aim Attack 1: [roll11]
Damage: [roll12]
Confirm? [roll13]
Damage: [roll14]
Miss chance (hits on 51-100): [roll15]

Rapid Shot Deadly Aim Attack 2: [roll16]
Damage: [roll17]
Confirm? [roll18]
Damage: [roll19]
Miss chance (hits on 51-100): [roll20]

H1 moves (and draws bow while moving), drops sword where he ends up, and shoots.

Attack: [roll21]
Damage: [roll22]
Confirm? [roll23]
Damage: [roll24]
Attempt to hit correct square (selects correct square on 26-100): [roll25]
Miss chance (hits on 51-100): [roll26]

H2 moves (and draws bow while moving), drops sword where he ends up, and shoots.

Attack: [roll27]
Damage: [roll28]
Confirm? [roll29]
Damage: [roll30]
Attempt to hit correct square (selects correct square on 26-100): [roll31]
Miss chance (hits on 51-100): [roll32]

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus shirked away from the brunt of the Flame Stirke, and fended off an arrow by briefly turning insubstantial.

"You're just pissing me off!" He couldn't survive long with this sort of onslaught, but if their spotter died, he didn't need to worry.

[roll0] vs 5 and 6 and stay tuned for that hero point ...

... a second rapid fireball silenced the meddlesome pair forever and the sorcerer flew west.

[Tychris1]

Rushing through the foliage, Ulva saw herself face to face with an imposing wall, and moved to leap over it.


[roll0]

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

"There's more of them!" One of the remaining hobs shouted the alarm as Ulva hurdled into the camp. The soldier turned to fire at the imposing woman, grim desperation writ large upon his face.

Another scooped up his sword and started moving toward the closest yzobu, calling out to it in goblin. The creature reared back, breaking free of its tether, and trotted over.

The two others started to make their way to cover from where they thought the fireballs were coming from, and one paused to take a quick shot at Rollo.

H1 picks up his bastard sword and heads toward Rollo.

H2 picks up his bastard sword and starts heading toward one of the yak mounts.

H3 ducks behind a tree and shoots at Rollo:
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

H4 takes a 5' step and is gonna Rapid Shot at Ulva.

Rapid Shot Deadly Aim Attack 1: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Confirm? [roll6]
Damage: 2d8+22

Rapid Shot Deadly Aim Attack 2:
Damage: [roll8]
Confirm? [roll9]
Damage: 2d8+22

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus grimaced at Ulva'a appearance. This was the easy part. He didn't need anyone cleaning up now that the alchemist was dead.

[roll0] vs H4
[roll1] trip

[roll2] vs H2
[roll3] trip

[PepperP.]

Veric and Rollo

An enemy hobgoblin finally within his sights, Rollo bared his fangs ferociously while Veric sprinted to catch up.

Rollo vs H1
Attack
[roll0]
Damage
[roll1]
Trip Attempt
[roll2]
Veric double moves

[Tychris1]

Ulva darted through the camp, running alongside the western wall as she closed in on her prey.


Double Move

[CockroachTeaParty]

Creeping along the edge of the battle, both the tigers spotted prey. The actual dire tiger charged one of the yak-like creatures in the camp, eager to sink fang and claws into fresh meat. Torg, however, invoked a spell, causing a large swathe of the forest to animate. The trees, shrubs, and grasses exploded into a chaotic swirl of grasping vines and clutching branches, coated in an irritating sap that caused skin to break out in itchy blisters. Two of the hobgoblins were swept up in the entangling mass.


Torg casts Sickening Entanglement, as displayed on the map.

The dire tiger charges and pounces on Y1.
Claw 1: [roll0]
Claw 2: [roll1]
Bite: [roll2]
Claw 1 damage: [roll3] grab [roll4]
Claw 1 damage: [roll5] grab [roll6]
Bite damage: [roll7] grab [roll8]

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

Down to three, each of the hobgoblins attempted something different. One turned at bay and attempted to slice at Rollo, while the other nearby simply tried (and failed) to escape. The third stood up, leapt aboard his mount, and attempted to ride away.

H1 is going to attack Rollo and then move one square east, triggering an AoO from Rollo.

Power Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

H2 stands up, triggering an AoO from Ulva, and then makes his Ride check to mount as a free action. He then directs his yak to ride directly east.

H3 fails to break free after spending 2 move actions.

[PepperP.]

Veric and Rollo

Yelping in pain, the wounded doggo viciously attacked the now prone hobgoblin seeking to end his foe's life. Veric, finally getting an eye on the enemy, fired off several successive shots at a seemingly uninjured hob.

Rollo Attacks a prone H1 (+4)
[roll0]
damage
[roll1]

Veric 5 foot steps and full attacks H3.
Manyshot, Rapid Shot, clustered shots, Favored enemy +4, deadly aim, gravity bow.

full attack action
Attack 1
[roll2]
Arrow 1 Damage
[roll3]
Arrow 2 Damage
[roll4]

Iterative Attack
[roll5]
Damage
[roll6]

Rapid Shot Attack
[roll7]
Damage
[roll8]

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus thonked the remaining hobgoblin with a spray of arcane pain.

[roll0]

[CockroachTeaParty]

With the hobgoblins on this side of the camp dispatched, Torg dismissed his spell, returning the forest to normal. Meanwhile, the dire tiger couldn't help but pounce on the other yak-creature; why not gorge on two kills instead of one?


Tiger-pounce-yak-asplode

Bite: [roll0]
Claw 1: [roll1]
Claw 2: [roll2]

Damage
Bite: [roll3] Grab [roll4]
Claw 1: [roll5] Grab [roll6]
Claw 2: [roll7] Grab [roll8]

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

The last hobgoblin fell, and small fires were still burning in the ruins of the tents and scattered areas of grass. Of the entire hobgoblin strike force, only two yzobus remained.

3360 XP a pop

LOOTS:

Cleric:
1 x Wand of cure moderate wounds (10 charges)
2 x Vials of acid
2 x Alchemist's fire
1 x Antitoxin
1 x +1 Plate armor
1 x +1 Heavy flail
1 x Mwk heavy crossbow with 20 bolts
1 x Cloak of resistance +1
1 x Headband of inspired wisdom +2
1 x Spell component pouch
1 x Unholy symbol of Hadregash
24 gp

Alchemist:
1 x Wand of cure light wounds (40 charges)
3 x Vials of acid
4 x Alchemist's fire
2 x Smokesticks
2 x Tanglefoot bags
3 x Unstable accelerant
1 x +2 Chain shirt
1 x Bombchucker
1 x Mwk short sword
1 x Eyes of the eagle
1 x Formulae book
30 gp

Formula Book:
3rd—absorbing touch, draconic reservoir, fly, haste
2nd—barkskin, cat’s grace, false life, invisibility, resist energy, see invisibility
1st—ant haul, bomber’s eye, comprehend languages, disguise self, expeditious retreat, shield, true strike

Fighters:
2 x Potions of cure serious wounds
2 x +1 Full plate
2 x +1 Bastard swords
2 x Composite (+3) longbows with 40 arrows
2 x Spears
2 x Cloaks of resistance +1
124 gp

Rangers:
4 x Oils of magic weapon
1 x Potion of cure moderate wounds
2 x Alchemist's fire
2 x +1 Agile breastplates
2 x Longbow with 40 arrows
2 x Mwk glaives
2 x Cloaks of resistance +1
114gp

Yzobus:

2 x Military saddles
2 x Scale mail barding

[Nefarion Xid]

While Rollo was still surgically removing the last hobgoblin's face, Septimus landed and began sorting through the spoils. He snapped up the wand of Cure Light Wound and liberally applied it to his wounded self while ripping an arrow free of his thigh.
Apply all until fail or full of HP
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]

[roll8] false life

"They said they have a captive hidden nearby," he called out to the others as his invisibility wore off. "Spread out and look for him!"

He renewed his False Life and flew off to help look from the air.

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

After having felled one of the yzobus and dragged it out of the camp as a snack, the dire tigress addressed Torg. <I have helped you and your pack find these invaders of the forest. What more do you wish of me?> The tigress looked back eastward, toward her home. <We are near to the edge of the forest. Many dangers lie over the hills between here and the river, chief among them to my kind the den of two-legged creatures like you and your pack.>

Give me an opposed charisma check per Charm Animal if you wish her to travel so far and fight with you in a battle. You may use wild empathy to improve her attitude. Alpha instinct gets you from the starting attitude of unfriendly to indifferent before Wild Empathy.

[PepperP.]

Veric

His keen eyes picking up the hobgoblin's trail with little effort, Veric pointed out the well traveled trail to the others.

"This might lead to where they're holding the prisoners. Let's follow it."

Take 10 for a 35.

[Nefarion Xid]

Since aerial reconnaissance hadn't yielded any results, Septimus landed and once again began cataloging the magic gear. Taking one of the bastard swords and the unholy symbol, he sat the iron emblem of Hadregash on a log and hacked at it repeatedly. He seemed at peace once it was twisted and fractured.

The bastard sword would make a handsome addition to his ensemble, he decided. He carried a battered longsword as a memento of his first fight, but that could be stored in his room while he wore something more impressive. No one needed to know he could barley wield it.

Once he'd secured the blade on his belt, he trotted after Veric.

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

Thanks to his practiced eye and almost supernaturally good tracking ability, Veric was able to quickly make out some unspoilt hobgoblin tracks a greater distance from the camp. He followed these some several hundred feet to a small hollow hidden from the sky by a thick tree canopy. Inside, he found three prisoners - two men and a woman - cruelly bound and gagged, and sitting in uncomfortable positions. They looked up in surprise and hope when Veric and Septimus made themselves known, and thanked them profusely once freed.

"Thank you for rescuing us," their leader, the woman, said. "I'm Anna. Well, Chernasardo Ranger Anna Deerchaser, I suppose. Not that there are many left of us. These two here are recruits Olly Somes and Jean Dannin. If you boys were looking for Fort Trevalay, I'm afraid we're all that's left of it. The Ironfang took it a couple months ago. Best to head back west to Longshadow and pray for a miracle. How'd you know we were out here, anyway? Or did Old Deadeye smile upon us?"

[PepperP.]

Veric

His forehead wrinkling slightly at boys , Veric nevertheless loosened the captive's bindings and helped them to their feet.

"I'm Warden Veric Reid. We've taken back Trevalay. There are more of us back at the fort."

[Nefarion Xid]

A slow, lop-sided smile spread across Septimus's lips. "My party took Fort Trevalay two weeks ago. Easily. Hobs are dead. Dragon's dead. There's more than sixty of us living there now. I'm Magus Lord Commander Severus and this is Warden Reid."

He began cleaning up the trio with Prestidigitation and offered over his waterskin. Any wounds were treated with a wave of his wand.

"The hob camp is dead too. Incinerated, really. There were just the six, right? We don't have to track anyone down? Hmm. Come on, let's get some food in you."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Tiger-Torg paused a moment, tail swishing in thought as he considered the tigress's words, red blood still staining her muzzle.
"We could use a fighter like you down south, that's for sure. If you could do to the hobgoblins what you did to those beasts, you'd be doing the forest a great service. But I know you have a territory of your own, and much to do before the snows come. But there are things I can offer you, huntress. The magics of nature could hone your form, turn you into an even greater tiger than you are now. You could return to your old territory, bedecked in trophies, fat with the meat of the forest's enemies. No other great cat would dare challenge your dominance.
But these are the promises of a druid, and words are so much wind. If you thirst for more, great hunter, you would find welcome by my side. But if the wild calls to you, then go, and may your coat keep you warm through the winter."


Wild Empathy: [roll0]

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

Ranger Deerchaser gaped for several long moments as both Veric and Septimus explained what had happened first at Fort Trevalay, and then just minutes before in the camp. With tears in her eyes, she hugged them both and kissed their cheeks. "Then you've avenged my brothers. I cannot thank you enough - ah, Magus Lord Commander." She blushed a little as realization dawned on her that in Veric she'd embraced at least one that probably outranked her. "Your pardon, Warden. It's just that things looked so bleak until just now."

Rangers Somes and Dannin were a little less forward, preferring handshakes and claps on the shoulder, but their thanks were no less heartfelt.

"Food sounds good," Somes confirmed. "Only I won't be eating any meat as came from the hob camp. They, uh, butchered two of our men to eat when their provisions ran low. We won't stoop to that. I'd prefer trail rations, weavils and all."

Dannin nodded his agreement. He was, it appeared, a man of few words.

***

<Your offer kindles a desire for glory in my belly> came the reply to Torg. <But the days grow few when my kind can hunt with impunity upon the plains. I am needed here, and would not risk myself for such things. Two-legs seek skins and meat, and their stone dens grow in number and ever closer. I shall remain in the forest, though I wish you well in your pursuit of these creatures. If you return, perhaps we shall seek the deer in the clearings and drink from hidden springs together.>

[Nefarion Xid]

Walking back to the campsite, Septimus consulted with Veric because he had no way of knowing how far they'd traveled from the fort. After confirming that their hobgoblin captors had indeed been mostly incinerated, they were treated to rations and goodberries.

The sorcerer gathered up two longbows and a crossbow from the spoils. "Here. I can summon you three horses. If you ride hard, you'll make it back to Trevalay in an hour or so. Give Commander Greenleaf our regards."

[Othniel]

Hobgoblin Camp

"Greenleaf made it?" Anna grinned. "That's wonderful news. I knew that old badger was tough. We'll gladly take your horses, Commander. And report to him right away."

Having rested some, eaten, and then rearming, the trio of rangers were ready to be on their way. "Be careful out on the hills," Anna warned them. "The Ironfang Legion may have already reached Redburrow by now...or may even be knocking on the gates of Longshadow. And there are other dangers as well, though I'm sure you can take care of yourselves. Goodbye!"

Edge of Fangwood Forest

Marching the rest of the day, the Fangbreakers finally reached the edge of the forest near sundown. The sun hung low in the sky to the west, blazing red-orange as it set over the Hollow Hills.

The next day, the party set off, marching as they preferred in the direction of Radya's Hollow. Some three hours into their march, several of them (everyone but Septimus, in fact), started to hear a faint rumble below the ground.

You have two rounds to react. Use them wisely.
You're pretty sure you hear two rumbles.

Encounter Map. (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Ws5wamIu_VRIB3lEY0HNY3B3TVggHvIe1LECUuP6D8U/edit#gid=530659397)

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Sliding from his conjured horse, Aidan gave an excited look towards Veric and Torg.

"Finally! I was going mad enduring this countryside."

Reaching towards the bandoleer at his chest, he pulled free a mutagen and an extract, downing both in quick succession.

"Who wants to place bets on what's coming to die!?"

Aidan downs his Mutagen and an extract of Shield

[CockroachTeaParty]

For once in his regular form, Torg was quick to sense the vibrations from below.
"Whatever's coming, I think there's two of them. Prepare for an attack from below!"

The dwarf cast a spell on himself to toughen his own hide, before moving next to Rollo. He cast another spell, the power of nature unlocking the primal savagery within Rollo. The wolf grew tougher, more muscular, jaws and teeth expanding until the wolf was a slavering beast of destruction.
"Go Rollo! Feel the call of primeval instinct!"


Torg casts Barkskin on himself, and Atavism on Rollo.

This gives Rollo the Advanced simple template for 8 mins. He basically gets +2 to everything (attacks, skills, damage, initiative) +4 to AC and CMD, and +2 hp per HD. He cannot use any tricks aside from Attack during this time.

[Nefarion Xid]

The sorcerer couldn't hear or feel the vibrations yet, but he took the others and the skittish horses at their word. He snapped off a Haste spell, then Fly as he left his mount to its fate on the ground.

Haste on everyone. Then Fly and Septimus moves up to 30 feet.

Having escaped immediate danger, Septimus had time to ponder what beasts were capable of burrowing. "Some sort of magic beast!" he called down to Ulva, a suggestion for her weapon spirit.

[Tychris1]

”Got it.” She said as her glaive thrummed with heightened power. Its crackling power almost sounding like an animalistic growl.

“I was actually enjoying the country side, but, to each their own I guess.”


Get off horse, wait one round, and then WARRIOR SPIRIT for Magical Beast Bane and +2.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills

The warning given by several party members paid off, and the Fangbreakers were prepared when two bulettes surfaced near the party, toothy maws gaping wide.

Thanks to a natural 1 and 2 for the bulettes (and no surprise round) you guys are all up.

MAP (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Ws5wamIu_VRIB3lEY0HNY3B3TVggHvIe1LECUuP6D8U/edit#gid=530659397)

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Laughing maniacally as the enormous creatures came into view, Aidan circled behind one, searching for a weak point in its hide.

Move'n and attack'n.

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Sneak Attack: [roll2]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg moved forward, jaw set in a grimace as the mighty 'land sharks' emerged. He pointed his hand at the one Aidan had not engaged, and from his finger sprang a red ray of wavering heat, filled with the power of the merciless sun.


Torg moves and casts Heatstroke at B2
Ranged touch attack: [roll0]

If it hits, B2 must make a DC 17 Fortitude save. They're exhausted on a failure, or fatigued if they succeed.
B2 will also take [roll1] nonlethal damage.

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus drifted closer to Bulette #2 and flung a conjured sphere of ice towards the roughly barn sized creature.

[roll0]
[roll1] cold damage and Fort 21 vs being staggered 1 round

[Tychris1]

Ulva chortled as the giant land sharks breached the earth, her one eye trailing Aidan’s movement, and her feet quickly mirroring his position. In a proper position she swung with her glaive simultaneously.


Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1] + [roll2]

[PepperP.]

Veric and Rollo

A furious furry ball of slathering rage, thanks to Torg's spell, Rollo could barely contain himself before he raced to the nearest Land shark and viciously sank his fangs into its hide! Veric followed Rolo's lead and released a quick volley of arrows after him.

Rollo
Atavism, Haste
Attack on B2
[roll0]
damage
[roll1]
trip
[roll2]

Veric
Full Attack on B2
Gravity Bow, Aspect of the Falcon, Point Blank Shot, Rapid Shot, Manyshot, Clustered Shots, Haste.
Attack 1
[roll3]
Arrow 1 Damage
[roll4]
Arrow 2 Damage
[roll5]
Rapid Shot
[roll6]
Damage
[roll7]
Haste Attack
[roll8]
Damage
[roll9]
Iterative Attack
[roll10]
Damage
[roll11]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills

And just like that, the fight was over. One bulette was slain, while the other had fled to lick its wounds elsewhere. Their reward? A mildly damaged bulette carcass free for the skinning.

[CockroachTeaParty]

As one of the massive apex predators went down and the other fled through the ground, Torg reflected on how powerful their little band had become. As he observed the titanic corpse before him, it occurred to the dwarf that a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was at hand. Back in his youth in the sky citadel, he remembered certain high-ranking dwarves owned suits of bulette plate mail, fashioned from the scales of the land-sharks. The fact that such a suit of armor would also comply with his druidic oaths was a bonus.

Veric led the skinning efforts, which mostly amounted to removing select plates from the beast. Torg and the others assisted in the process, and before long they had the components for a fantastic suit of armor... once they had the time to craft, of course.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills

Time was of the essence, and the group pressed onward! After pausing for lunch and picking up their pace once more, the land began to become far more hilly, and the Fangbreakers knew they'd entered the Hollow Hills, proper. After merely an hour of steady progress, they came to the edge of a depression in the hills that seemed to run some several hundred feet in all directions. Perhaps it had once held a small lake or pond, or perhaps it was simply nature showing off its variety, but at the center now was a grove of trees. From within came the sound of laughter and...lyre music.

[Nefarion Xid]

Having joked the entire trip about being overdue for fey trickery, Septimus congratulated himself for his own cleverness at the, to him, ominous sounding music. He quickly warded everyone with Protection from Evil and nudged the horses on to investigate.

[Tychris1]

Looking at Septimus with a sidelong glance, Ulva stared at the magic flowing over her, and felt it enshroud her own weapon. "I've got you all." She whispered, then furrowed her eyebrows with loving sternness, and took a leading trot.


WARRIOR SPIIIRRIIIIIIIIIT for +3.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Enhanced by a bulwark against mental assault, Aidan slipped off his conjured mount and gave the grove a long look.

"I'll scout ahead. Something's not right here."

Is it good?

[roll0]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

Aidan crept forward followed a half-minute later by Ulva. As the alchemist came closer, he could hear some sort of flute-like instrument join the sound of the lyre. Then he heard the singing and clapping. Finally, he came close enough to peer through the trees and beheld quite the sight: A large, flat-topped tree stump, top polished and laden with a feast fit for kings was surrounded by 6 figures, all in varying states of undress. Four were dwarves (three males and a female) who seemed to be greedily partaking of the meal in between clapping, stamping their feet, and singing nonsense along with the music; while two appeared to be human women who were clearly the source thereof. They danced around the dwarves and stump in a dizzying hurry, playing a tune fit for a country dance in Phaendar or any of the other small villages throughout Nirmathas.

If Aidan pauses to observe, Ulva will catch up with him and see and hear all the same.

[PepperP.]

Veric

Veric crept forward after Ulva and Aidan and stopped short just within the shelter of the trees. He frowned at what was undoubtedly fey devilry he was seeing and looked to the others with consternation, though he neither spoke nor began an assault, waiting for the others's lead.

Stealth
[roll0]

On second glance, the ranger frowned.

"I think they're just human women." He whispered to the others, sounding very sure of himself. He started as one of them looked right at him after he'd spoken. He straightened and waved sheepishly.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

Veric followed closely behind Aidan, but was unfortunately not quite stealthy enough to avoid going unnoticed by the revelers. The tell-tale soft snap of a twig sounded, and one of the women halted. She glanced about and, spotting Veric, flashed the young man a lascivious smile before calling out to him, "Come forward, young man! There is plenty for you as well! Come, join in the feast and dancing."

[PepperP.]

Veric

Somewhat embarrassed by being heard over the din of the party and by the scandalous nature of said revel, Veric blushed as he came forward into the clearing.

"We were just passing through and heard the music. What are you all doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

[Tychris1]

Riding in Ulva looked at the merry scene, scratched her head, and approached the table with the dwarfs.

”I could definitely go for something to eat.”

[CockroachTeaParty]

Before entering the grove, Torg cast his Barkskin spell just to be safe, having recalled it using his pearl of power. Entering the grove, he was shocked to see dwarves engaged in the seemingly random revel.

Something about the whole situation stank to high heaven.
"What're you all doing out here? Don't you know there's a war on? We don't have time for this nonsense."

He hadn't spoken his native Dwarven in quite some time, but he threw out a second question to his kin.
<Dwarven> "Wipe the grease off your beards for a bleeding second. Where hail you from? Any word from Kraggodan?"

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus followed the druid's lead. He stood on the other side of the questioned dwarf and clapped his shoulder after reciting the pleasant sounding words for Protection from Evil.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

"Come one! Come all! The food is excellent, and the company is better!" called the second woman. Now that the party was close, they could see them better. Appearing to be sisters, the women looked to be in their mid-twenties with long, dark hair, vivid green eyes, and luscious lips. They wore little, save for nearly sheer white dresses that left little to the imagination, and were adorned with decorative silver anklets and armbands and colorful shawls that didn't cover much.

"Yes, there is food for plenty," the first said again, laughing. "And singing and dancing. Come, friends, forget wars and worries and rest your travel-weary bones. Eat, drink, and be merry!"

As Septimus, Ulva, and Torg entered the grove, the dwarves beckoned to them. <"Come, join us!"> one called back in Dwarven, grinning at Torg. She had stripped to her waist and had let loose a braid so that her long, golden curls hung about. <"These are my friends, Duggin, Margrath, and J.W! I am Solba. We are dwarves of the hills. Never even seen the inside of Kraggodan,"> she added cheerfully. <"They don't know what they're missing!"> Solba lifted a goblet of wine and took a long, slow drink before selecting another and holding it out out toward Torg.

Septimus, on the other hand, felt his spell take hold, almost as if he had slipped invisible sheers underneath a cord that bound something and snipped it. The dwarf Solba had indicated as Margrath blinked and rubbed his eyes, looking around confusedly. "Where are we?" he asked, quietly.

[Nefarion Xid]

The sorcerer gave Margrath a knowing nod and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Just enjoy yourself!" the stern, wide eyed look betrayed his words, but the quickly mouthed, "Pretend."

"Oh, but more dancing first, ladies! I like the dancing!" he called out as he made his way around the table and attempted to repeat the trick on each ensorceled dwarf.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

The whisper of the confused Dwarf was all the confirmation Aidan needed. The two reveling strumpets may have appeared human, but even if they were he sense great danger from them. Flitting from shadow to shadow, he circled around the trees until he was behind Melita.

"May I have this dance?"

He held position just long enough for her to see his nightmarish smile, before his teeth flashed towards her throat.

Biting, I guess.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Sneak Attack: [roll2]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

The woman across from Margrath narrowed her eyes at Septimus. "You shouldn't cast spells on people without asking their permission!" She had no time to react beyond that, however, as Aidan launched a vicious attack upon her sister, and then chaos reigned.

Initiative Winners: Veric, Septimus, Aidan

Then the ladies and the charmed dwarves

Then Ulva, Torg, and Margrath.

[Nefarion Xid]

"Got it!" Septimus leapt back and motioned counter-clockwise, Slowing everyone in the grove that might be hostile.

vs both ladies and the un-Protected dwarves

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Assured that these were no normal revelers by his target's endurance, Aidan attempted to quarter the woman before she could act.

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Sneak Attack: [roll2]

Haste Bite: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Sneak Attack: [roll5]

Claw 1: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
Sneak Attack: [roll8]

Claw 2: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]
Sneak Attack: [roll11]

[PepperP.]

Veric

"Aidan, what the hell!??" He was torn between trusting the elf's instincts and his own that were still telling him these were ordinary women. Before Aiden could rend the other one asunder, Veric made a mad dash for her and attempted to pin her in his arms to hold her still so they could get to the bottom of this, not that it would help the other woman.

"Hold still, I don't want to hurt you!"

Grapple!
[roll0]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

"MALITA, NO!" the other woman shrieked as her sister was eviscerated by the whirlwind of teeth and claws that was Aidan. "You'll pay for that! Death take you all!" Then she stepped away from Veric and...began to dance. Not the dance she and her sister had danced before, but a wild dance of abandon. And with it, those watching felt a feeling well up deep inside them silently pulling at their minds from all corners.

"Hey! Leave the lasses alone!" shouted Duggin, who picked up his pick and moved to stand in front of Aidan. Solba and J.W. as well, grasped their weapons and advanced on the elf.

I need a will save from everyone within 60 feet!

Duggin, J.W., and Solba pick up their picks and move to confront Aidan.

[Tychris1]

Gripping her glaive, Ulva moved to attack the dancing woman, and swung her ensorcelled glaive on the flat side. "Aidan what the sh**!" She cried out as all hell broke loose.


Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg growled as he fought off the strange urges of the wild-woman's dance. He slammed his hand on the ground, and a snaking patch of the earth turned into thick, sucking mud.

"Try dancing in that!" he shouted, making sure to catch the other dwarves in the muck to slow them down.


Torg casts Soften Earth and Stone. SR: no, DC 16 Ref save or be unable to move, attack, or cast spells for 2 rounds; otherwise the area is difficult terrain.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Turning from the sticky morass that had taken hold of the ensorcelled dwarves, Aidan skirted the battlefield to approach the second sorceress. Dodging away from her snapping teeth, he returned the gesture.

Flanking Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Sneak Attack: [roll2]

[PepperP.]

Veric

The woman's spell had no effect on Veric other than to make him angry. She may be human, but she was clearly no friend of theirs. Rollo bared his teeth at the edge of the clearing and barked furiously at the chaos.

"Bark! Bark bark bark!"

Veric
Full Attack on Tr
Point Blank Shot, Rapid Shot, Manyshot, Clustered Shots, Unchained Heart.
Attack 1
[roll0]
Arrow 1 Damage
[roll1]
Arrow 2 Damage
[roll2]
Rapid Shot
[roll3]
Damage
[roll4]
Iterative Attack
[roll5]
Damage
[roll6]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

The surviving woman hissed angrily as she was bit, slashed, shot, and slapped by various weapons and attacks, and then reached out to touch Aidan before moving away.

Melee Touch Attack spell vs Aidan: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Then move 30' east, provoking from Aidan.

[Tychris1]

Having subdued the crazy dancing woman, Ulva turned around to see Septimus punching himself in the face, and instantly sprung to action. <”Oh Tolc no. Not my beautiful sorcerous flower. What did she do to you?”> She cried in Aklo before charging him headlong “I’ll rescue you!”




Jump:[roll0]
Grapple:[roll1]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

With the immediate danger of the maenads passed, the unaffected party members set about binding Septimus and the dwarves so that they could not hurt themselves or others until the effects had passed. The living maenad was also bound and gagged with the ultimate decision regarding her fate yet to be decided. Once the effects of the confusion had passed, Margrath (the one who Septimus had freed from enchantment) set about collecting the other dwarves' belongings and persuaded his compatriots to dress themselves once more. Once that was done, he apologized for his and his companions' behavior, explaining that they'd fled Radya's Hollow (which lay to the north) and ran into the "fey witches" while seeking shelter in the grove. Radya's Hollow had already already absorbed dozens of survivors of previous Ironfang attacks when the Legion fell upon them. Margrath further explained that from what he'd heard, the Ironfang Legion now controlled all lands south of the Marideth River up to the gates of Kraggodan. Margrath mentioned that Solba had a brother named Voldan, that she'd been separated from when they fled.

The other three dwarves, for their part, were still ensorcelled by the maenads and refused to talk to the Fangbreakers on account of their violence toward the "nice lasses."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg had stomached the past hour of babysitting the confused and charmed dwarves and sorcerer with mounting impatience.

When the dwarves came to, but a decent segment of them still seemed firmly in the strange fey-like women's camp, the druid drew his axe.

"I've had enough of this. Satyrs, strange dancing women, it's all the same. Predators popping out of the ground is one thing, but ones that rob you of your dignity is quite another."

Torg dragged the unconscious 'maenad' to the large stump, using it as a headsman's block as he took off her head with his axe.

[Tychris1]

Ulva watched the Dwarf get to his grisly work, Septimus lay unconscious before her, and then knelt down to pick up the newly severed head. Holding the beautiful woman's face opposite of her own, she grumbled softly "I don't feel particularly heroic..."

She knelt down, took one of the dwarf tools, and set to work digging a grave for the two slain temptress'.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

Ulva set to burying the maenads while Septimus turned his mind, now free from the shackles of confusion, toward lifting the mental bindings laid upon the remaining dwarves. Once they were free, they all profusely thanked the Fangbreakers.

"I have nothing left to my name that I can give you," Solba said. "But...there is my family's treasure buried at Radya's Hollow. If you promise me that you'll look for my brother if you go there, I will tell you where I buried it, and it's yours."

[Nefarion Xid]

"We really don't need to take the family heirlooms," Septimus said in a moment of uncharacteristic altruism and a lack of genre savviness. "But we can look for your brother all the same. What are you four going to do in the meantime? Do you want to go to Longshadow with us or would you prefer to make for Fort Trevelay?"

He didn't want the burden, but Septimus could scarcely leave them to fend for themselves in the wilderness.

[Tychris1]

Kneeling over the makeshift graves she had made, Ulva took out some water from her waterskin, and poured it into her cupped hand. Closing her eye she muttered the most basic rite of reclamation she could remember for Tolc and stood up once more.

"In all honesty you'd probably be safer with us. But that's just my opinion." Ulva chimed in as she slung her glaive on her back.

[CockroachTeaParty]

"I could fly them to Tevalay," intoned Torg. "I could probably catch back up with you before nightfall. Just a thought.

What befell Radya's Hollow, exactly? Was it just the Ironfang, or did they bring anything more unusual in the attack? They've allied themselves with all manner of horrors."

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Strange Grove

"'Tis a sad tale, stranger," Solba began slowly. "Two weeks ago, a force of hobgoblins calling themselves the Ironfang Legion swept into town. Radya's Hollow is a small village - we have maybe a dozen homes, the general store, and the assayer's office, plus the mind - and we have no soldiers. We simply keep the peace ourselves and deal with any predators that wander too close. Molthune has rarely ever come so far. It was a nice, quiet village until just recently. Anyway, these hobgoblins swept in and killed a few of our folk as resisted, and then their leader, Sergeant Dargg announced that we're reopening the mine." Solba paused and a look of great sadness fell upon her countenance. "The mine was closed for a reason. Years ago, there was a great collapse, and a dozen or so workers were killed. Every time someone has tried to reopen it, strange accidents happened. This time was no different. From what we got out of the hobgoblins, there was some sort of undead presence in the mine, and they gave up on clearing it. Several of our folk were trapped inside, including my brother, Voldan. I don't suppose he's still alive, but if you could look..." Solba stoped again and wiped a sleeve across her eyes. "Dargg decided to pull out, and that's when we made a break for it. He's probably still got some of the townsfolk as slaves. Maybe if you go to Radya's Hollow, you can pick up his trail?"

"If it's all the same, I think we'd all just as soon stay with you," Margrath put in. "If you need to dig out parts of the mine, we've got the experience and know-how, and many hands make light work. Besides, if any of our folk are alive there, I think we'd like to be there to help them." The other dwarves quickly agreed.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg listened intently, arms crossed, brow furrowed. He nodded in agreement with the dwarves.
"Very well. We'll make for Radya's Hollow. But we need to make up for lost time. You'll all ride with me."

Torg walked away from the rest of the group to give himself some space, before transforming into an enormous, shaggy beast with huge floppy ears, twin ivory tusks, and a long dexterous trunk. Mammoth-Torg looked down at the dwarves, speaking in his same voice.
"...Or on me, rather. I'll help you up. Just hang on nice and tight."

[Nefarion Xid]

"I dig it." Septimus hopped back on his horse and made ready to depart.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills

The last few miles to Radya's Hollow went by swiftly. Within three hours, the five Fangbreakers had reached a distance not far from the edge of the village, such as it was. Nestled between two lines of hills, a dozen or so houses were spread out in a haphazard clump with the larger general store and assayer's office at the center. The settlement appeared deserted, and naught but the sound of the wind and a few birds could be heard. "Dargg kept's the assayer's office as his headquarters," Margrath offered. "The mine is on the opposite side from us, just over the next hill."

1920 XP each for the bulettes and 2240 for the Maenad and dwarf encounter.

[Tychris1]

With a keen eye of justice Ulva went and took lead on examining each of the seemingly abandoned houses before heading towards the general store and assayer's office.

[PepperP.]

Veric

Veric and Rollo trailed behind Ulva, weapon at the ready to deal with any threats that dared showed themselves.

"Seems deserted." He was uncharacteristically optimistic as the continued silence lulled him into what was surely a false sense of security. Rollo whined as if disagreeing with his master.

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow

The party set to work investigating the town. The houses were all abandoned and stripped of valuables, but were otherwise in normal condition. The general store had also been stripped of any foodstuffs and anything that could be used as a weapon (if the Fangbreakers asked the dwarves, they would confirm that the townsfolk were allowed to stay in their own homes while not being forced to work in the mine). Not a soul was found, and nothing interesting popped up until they investigated the assayer's office. Sergeant Dargg had used this as his headquarters, and had apparently left his journal behind in a hurry to pack. Just outside town was an area beaten down by many feet. Margrath offered that Dargg's troops had pitched their tents there so as to keep a better eye on the citizenry without being surrounded by them.

Most of the journal is written in Goblin (unusual for goblins, but common for hobgoblins and bugbears) and details in very brusque terms troop movements, battles, losses, and slaves taken, but upon conquering Radya’s Hollow, Dargg took a gnome scribe as his personal slave and thereafter the entries are written in Common:

Campaign Day 52: Seized Radya’s Hollow near
the Fangwood border. Acquired a fastidious
new slave to take dictation and provide
grooming. Existing mines seem to produce low
quality iron ore, but Zanathura’s little pets
report gold deposits in the older mine complex.
New slaves insist this mine is “dangerous and
collapsed,” but upon initial inspection it seems
secure. Ore samples very promising. Suspect
these new slaves simply don’t like the smell
of their own sweat.

Campaign Day 54: Radya’s Hollow mine
producing reasonable gold and quartz turnout.
Morlocks insist they smell potent vein somewhere
in the mine. Protestations from new slaves have
ended. At Kosseruk’s suggestion, I ordered two
of them to flog their previous mayor to death.
It seems to have broken their spirits admirably
while giving the troops a good laugh. Look
forward to employing same tactic again soon.

Campaign Day 57: Collapse has killed my
lieutenant, six slaves, and all four morlocks.
Zanathura will have my hide for losing her
little pets. Soldiers report strange sounds from
the tunnels afterward and refuse orders to
reclaim potential survivors. Relocating to original
ridgeline camp 8 miles southeast to await
discipline from Kosseruk for this costly error.
You estimate that two dozen hobgoblins, a large wolf, and two or three dozen humans camped here.

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Perched on a nearby fence as Ulva read the diary aloud, Aidan's gaze flicked between the mine opening and the wilderness to the southeast.

"Well then. Shall we delve this haunted mine before pursuing the Ironfang? The...survivors could need our help."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg returned to his dwarf form (after carefully making sure the other dwarves were safely on the ground) before making his way towards the entrance of the mine.

The collapse was clear; there were a few bodies scattered about, apparently belonging to the Ironfang. Torg took some time to examine the corpses, before going up to the nearest deep-rooted plant growing near the mine shaft.

"Plant, hear me. Can you sense the empty space beneath the earth? Where the meat-things move to and fro? Does anything move within? Can you sense any stirring with your roots?"


Heal check: [roll0]

Torg also casts Speak With Plants, asking if the nearest bush or tree can sense anything going on inside the mine with their root system.

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow Mine

After a short walk, the Fangbreakers reached the entrance to the mine and looked about. The rough-hewn tunnel sloped northeast into the hillside. A slide of rock debris had crushed a bulky, pale-skinned humanoid, who lay alongside three dead hobgoblins. Some sleuth-work revealed the identify of the humanoid as a morlock, a species of subterranean, barely-intelligent creatures living in scattered tribes and worshiping the statues left behind in the ruins they occupy. Their presence here was an oddity: Morlocks were creatures of the Darklands, and rarely ventured into the Hollow Hills. A brief examination of the hobgoblin corpses showed that one had been killed with some sort of wooden weapon. A trail of its blood led back into the mine.

Fortunately for Torg, a small tree stood not far from the entrance to the mine. Unfortunately for Torg, it did not have much useful information to share. <"What, man you think you can just walk up and start askin' questions like that? Thuh nerve. I'll have you know that I have stood here for years undisturbed and then suddenly all these fleshy morsels come totterin' up and goin' down like, ya know, this hole and gettin' all up in my roots. My roots! Gag me with a STIIIIICK! What's a tree to do as can't keep its roots private. These weeks I've watched these...these flesh bags come and go about their business with nothin' even approachin' a 'How do you do, like, wow tree? Do you mind if I pass by? Pleasant weather we're havin', like, wow isn't it?' And then up comes you and asks if I feel any stirrings in my roots. That's a bit personal! Oh, wow! Man, for your information, like no. I do not. Like, there was some a while back, mostly, but I think they've stopped squirmin'. Like, there were an awesum many flesh bags that entered a while back, mostly and only a few made it out before BOOM! Gag me with a BRANCH! WHOOSH! Oh, wow! And my roots were private again. What goes on past my reach inside is ya know, like, beyond my knowledge.">

Treasure: Each of the hobgoblins carries a masterwork longsword, a set of masterwork manacles, and 25 gp. One also carries a satchel containing four large gold nuggets (worth 75 gp each). The morlock wears what appears to be a holy symbol—a silver snake encircling a rough emerald (worth 100 gp) that nobody can identify.

[Tychris1]

"Well. That's disturbing!" Ulva noted as she poked the Morlock's corpse with her glaive. "Torg, you get anything useful out of that tree? Or am I free to start spelunking?" She cried back as she danced one foot in and out of the mine's precipice.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg staggered away from the tree, his face ashen and drawn.
"Oh... oh, I'd kill for a beer right about now..."

He glanced over at Ulva, his gaze distant and glazed.
"No! No... nothing from that tree. Never from that tree. Yes, let's get underground. Away from that tree. Yes."

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus looked from the dwarf to the offending tree and made what he understood to be the universal sign for "would you like me to incinerate that for you?" by lazily imitating the evocation gesture for fire.

[Tychris1]

"Awesome. Spelunking! Going back underground. Just like old times at misthome! Fuhuhuhuhu." Ulva cries back as she descends into the mine.

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow Mine

Rubble littered the southern entrance of the large chamber Ulva entered, where the ceiling stretched to nearly thirty feet overhead. Wooden pilings, discarded tools, and neglected carts rested alongside several relatively new picks and shovels. A wooden door stood to the northeast, while rockfall partially obscured the tunnels leading north and east. A tapping sound echoed from the east, and the northern tunnel appeared clear enough to pass through.

Map! (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Ws5wamIu_VRIB3lEY0HNY3B3TVggHvIe1LECUuP6D8U/edit#gid=1825830316) Arrows point ways you can go.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Following Ulva inside, Torg seemed to regain a bit of his senses; indeed, being underground seemed to invigorate him, almost as if he had a defining trait that made this happen to him, with numbers attached to it and everything.

"There's no sense poking around blind in here," he said, "Allow me to scout out the tunnels. I'll determine if there's any survivors, or anything worth salvaging."

And with that he transformed into a being of living earth, and slid effortlessly into the floor like a turtle ducking beneath the surface of a pond.

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow Mine

Torg dove into the floor and came up again on the other side of the collapsed tunnel. Long-dead lanterns hung on the walls of this rectangular room, and a large wooden table occupied a corner. A thick layer of dust covered the floor and table, except in several places where objects seemingly once rested but were now absent. A bloodied hobgoblin corpse sat slumped against the wall in the southeast corner of the room, its face a rictus of horror. A natural stone fissure exited the room to the north, while the tunnels leading northeast and southwest have collapsed. Sitting next to an overturned mine cart was a man, holding the hand of a dwarf in both of his. The dwarf was caught under the mine cart, trapped when it was somehow overturned.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg swam through the loving earth, solid and trustworthy in the lightless deep. He witnessed the devastation of the mine collapse, but was able to trace a path of sorts that could lead to the survivors without necessarily having to dig. He glided through the rock until he was near the survivors once more, carefully emerging next to them, though he remained invisible. His disembodied voice whispered to them, sounding like gravel and scree.

"Hold fast, help is on the way. We'll get you out of there."

Torg transfered his polymorphic pouch from a cavity inside his malleable earthen body, and retrieved a pair of goodberries. He left them on the floor near the human, such that they appeared. He gently nudged the man's hand so that he felt them.

"Eat these. They'll give you a bit of strength. We'll try to get to you as soon as we can, but if that proves problematic, I'll come back for you anyway. I can get you some healing and more food. Just hang on."

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow Mine

"LEAPING LIZARDS!" shouted the man, who jumped to his feet at the sound of Torg's voice. He quickly grabbed a knife he'd scrounged and held it out to defend himself. When no enemy was visible, he gasped and stammered, "I-I-ah...thanks? Who or what are you?"

[CockroachTeaParty]

"I'm a druid," Torg replied, "I can move through solid rock like a fish. I'm also a friend of the Chernasardo Rangers, and an enemy of the hobgoblins that enslaved you. As far as I can tell, if you stay here you won't be in too much danger. I've got some more magic to help keep you safe, but I need to tell my companions you're here first. Just stay here, eat those berries, and keep nice and quiet. I'll be back."

With that, Torg returned to the rest of the party.
"You can dismiss that invisibility, Septimus. I've scouted out the mine, as best I can tell. There's a couple of survivors, trapped just beyond that big collapse over there. I gave them some goodberries to give them some energy, but they're in a bad way. Just about everyone else in here is dead, miners and hobgoblins both. Now, there's a way to reach the trapped miners, but we'd have to go around a lot of difficult terrain, and I'm not sure how stable some of these passages are. There's also a big chasm where a bridge has collapsed. We could climb down into a defile of sorts then up the other side, but it's crawling with huge spider-bug-things. Cave solifuges. Think spider-scorpions without stingers. We'd probably have to fight our way through them.

Then it's a straight shot to the miners. But listen, we've had a long day. If we rest, I can pray for some new spells that would get both of them out of there perfectly safe and sound. I can stay the night with them to make sure nothing tries to attack them; I've got some more tricks up my sleeve that ought to keep us all nice and safe.

So what do you think? I'd hate to risk more collapses. Trying to dig them out would be risky as well. Give me until tomorrow morning, and I'll have them both out before breakfast is cold."

[Nefarion Xid]

"Wait wait wait. I've got just the thing. I'm hemorrhaging spells today, but this is worth it."

After searching through his spellbook, Septimus passed his signet ring over the desired page. A ghostly facsimile of the words lifted up from the paper and spiraled into the glowing 'S' rune. Now equipped with the knowledge of Gaseous Form, the sorcerer sublimated himself into a silver mist and crept through the tunnel gap towards the stranded miners.

Once on the other side, he spared a moment to cast Light and introduced himself. "Hi. I'm friends with the rock monster. Don't be alarmed! I'm just going to discorporate you. It won't hurt, but it will tingle! Just will yourself out that hole. Everyone gets it on their first try. Promise!"

As he said, he turned both miners into dwarf smelling clouds and ushered them towards the exit, then repeated the trick on himself once more.

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow Mine

Though their means of extrication was unconventional in the extreme, both miners were sincerely thankful to be finally free of their predicament. They warned the Fangbreakers that the mine was by no means abandoned by foes, mentioning specifically the presence of the weird spiders and also the presence of some sort of strange entity that had blocked further attempts at retreat. Voldan was especially happy to see that his sister, Solka, was alive, and the two embraced warmly.

"I don't know how I can ever repay you kind folks," she said, "But our buried stash is yours. I insist! We'll follow you to Longshadow and find refuge and work there."

640 XP each for rescuing the miners.

[CockroachTeaParty]

"What do you mean by 'strange entity?' Can you describe anything? What it looked like? What it did?"

Torg hadn't detected the presence of anything else dangerous aside from the albino wind-spiders. If something else was lurking in there, it had eluded his senses entirely.

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow Mine

"It was like...the junk in the mine had come alive, or was given life by some ghostly force," Meslin explained. "Some foul spirit inhabiting stone and steel and wood! When I attempted to leave Voldan to get help, it blocked my way, and then lay still. If I hadn't seen it rise up before me, I would have sworn I was hallucinating. When I backed away, it lay still like so much refuse."

[Nefarion Xid]

"I'm going back. That dead hob back there might have marching orders on him."

Septimus again turned into mist and went back to the room where the miners were trapped. He scanned the room for magic and valuables, then picked through the hobgoblin's possessions before returning the way he came.

[Othniel]

Radya's Hollow Mine

As it turned out, the dead soldier did have something useful on her body. Among the soldier's normal equipment, Septimus found a banner depicting both the red shield of the Ironfang Legion and a labyrinthine axe symbol. More importantly, he also found a detailed map of the Hollow Hills with the locations of Radya's Hollow, Redburrow, and a camp (labeled "Baseline Camp") marked on it. He also found a magical candle on the table, overlooked by the miners in their panic. Nothing emerged to molest Septimus as he went about his business.

Basic hob loot (longbow, longsword, leather armor, etc) plus the map and a Candle of Clean Air. (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic-items/wondrous-items/wondrous-items/c-d/candle-of-clean-air/)

In the dwarves' stash, you find:

Inside an oiled leather sack, they find 33 gold nuggets (worth 75 gp each), an unusually clear fist-sized quartz (worth 50 gp), a sustaining spoon, and a rope of climbing.

In the mine supervisor's office:
5 x Potions of cure moderate wounds
5 x Bandages of rapid recovery
1 x Chime of opening (8 charges remaining).

One Belt of Mighty Constitution +2 from the body in the goo.

DAWN.

[CockroachTeaParty]

After resting, Torg prayed for a new allotment of spells, this time at the mouth of the mine, close to the rock and earth he held so dear.

"Alright lads and lasses," he said to his companions as they prepared for a new day, "If our sorcerer can spare me another invisibility spell, there's a few things I'd like to check in the mine before we settle on leaving or clearing it out. Shouldn't take me very long."

With that, he turned into an earth elemental once more, and went tunneling through the bones of the earth. He went straight to the ceiling of the foul river, where the corpse with the fancy belt was preserved. Half-emerged from the ceiling, he cast a spell, willing the water level to sink such that he could safely reach the corpse. Once he was near it, he scanned it for any magical auras.


Torg earth glides to the ceiling of the gross stream, and casts Control Water to lower the water up to 16 ft.; he'll hit the body up with Detect Magic, Spellcraft +12

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills

Their work in Radya's Hollow complete for the time being, the Fangbreakers took their leave of the miners for their lightning-fast strike on the hobgoblin's Ridgeline Camp some 10 miles to the southeast. The distance was a mere hour's travel, but the landscape changed drastically in that time. Where before the Hollow Hills were gently rolling green spaces dotted with vegetation, they had now come to a far more barren landscape. Trees there were still - flaming yellow, red, or orange in their autumn adornments - but they were fewer by far, and there was little greenery, the soft grass having given way to rough scrub and sage. Torg halted some distance from the base of the ridge that they could see further on. Upon the crest were two tiers of a camp. A lower, smaller place from which a set of ten objects hung - the cages in which the Ironfang held their prisoners. Above this portion of the camp was the main level, guarded by two tall watchtowers - one to the north, and another to the south. They could see that the road swung north for a distance, and slowly curved and twisted its way upward to the ridge, itself far to steep to climb without gear: they would have to follow the road or fly. The weather favored them, however, as a cold fog managed to hide them somewhat, but even at the distance of a mile out, it seemed likely that any soldiers on watch could soon take notice.

[Jade_Tarem]

Nora wasn't entirely certain she could take the camp, but if a few hit-and-fade attacks would do it over time, that would work just fine as well. Of course, first she had to get there. With the camp three hundred feet of guarded switchback trails high, that was going to be a trick.

Fortunately, the inquisitor of the Drunken Hero was never truly alone. His power shielded her, masked her approach, and best of all... just as the Accidental God got around, so too could his followers. When she finally arrived, invisible and protected, at the base of the south tower, she took a deep breath and simply stepped up into it. Quietly drawing her axe, she grinned, took aim at the back of the watch hobgoblin's head, and shoved with all her might.

Surprise round action: Bull Rush unsuspecting hobgoblin, hopefully right out of the tower.

CM: [roll0]

[Nefarion Xid]

Summarized approach:

Rollo stays behind. Septimus casts Invisibility on everyone. Fly on Ulva and Aidan. Septimus and Veric ride on vulture Torg. See Invisibility on Septimus. Protection from Evil on Aidan. He is protected from stabbing himself.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

With an amusingly high-pitched scream (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FHw2aItRlw), Nora's target was shoved out of the tower and plummeted twenty feet to the ground, landing with a loud thud. The rest of the camp had little time to react, however, and for a brief moment, the tower was Nora's. Above and/or somewhere to the east, the Fangbreakers prepared their attack.

Initiative: Aidan, Nora, and Veric win initiative. Take your surprise round actions. Please start somewhere reasonable on the map. ;)
H1 takes [2d6[/roll] falling damage.

Assuming the rest of the PCs start on the map in the doc, you should be close enough to hear the scream.

[Jade_Tarem]

Nora let her axe fall to the ground with a heavy thud, letting the blade sink into the wood. She hauled out her bow instead, and placed one hand on the decorative mug at her hip. The golden filigree on it glowed for a moment as she muttered an old prayer to the Lucky Drunk in Celestial. Her bow also flared to light for a moment, now attuned with the wrath of Cayden Cailean, the better to strike down goblins and their brethren.

Free action to drop the axe, move to draw the bow, standard to cast Divine Favor, and a swift to invoke Goblin Bane.

[Nefarion Xid]

A fireball ignited in the middle of the camp. In the hazy distance, the offending sorcerer could be seen readying another spell.

[Tychris1]

Ulva floated in the air, twirling invisibly as she bobbed in zero gravity, and upon realizing combat was begun she pointed her glaive like a rifle at the nearest hobgoblin. Gritting her teeth she felt her spirit roar and rush through her body before slamming against her weapon.


Warrior Spirit out +2 Bane (Hobgobbos)

[PepperP.]

Veric

Veric surveyed the battlefield from atop Vultorg, ready to rain death down upon his hobgoblin enemies.

Attack on H4
Haste, Aspect of the Falcon, Gravity Bow, Rapid Shot, Clustered Shots, Favorite Enemy (+4), Manyshot, Deadly Aim.
Full Attack
Attack 1
[roll0]
Damage
Arrow 1
[roll1]
Arrow 2
[roll2]
Haste Attack
[roll3]
Damage
[roll4]
Rapid Shot Attack
[roll5]
Damage
[roll6]
Iterative Attack
[roll7]
Damage
[roll8]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

As soon as the WHOOSH and flash of flame from the fireball lit up the sky, pandemonium broke out. The hobgoblin sentry Nora had kicked from his tower stood up and drank a potion, while the other consumed a potion of his own and shouted out a warning to those in the camp below. The soldier that appeared to be the leader dashed past an invisible Aidan and leapt upon his lupine steed, directing it and the contingent of soldiers toward the southern watchtower while they scanned the sky for additional threats. A final hobgoblin, dressed in hides and bearing an inordinate number of weapons moved south as well, lifted a hand and called out a spell in gutteral goblin, gesturing at Nora in the tower.

Finally, the cluster of five harpies that had been circling overhead flew down to perch on top of a number of prisoner cages and shake their weapons menacingly at Veric. "These are ours! What business do you have here!" one demanded.

At once, a chorus of voices broke out from the prisoners (including the lone hobgoblin in the far cage), pleading for release.


H1 stands up and drinks a potion.
H2 also drinks a potion!
Both H1 and H2 send their owls to harass Nora.

O1 full attacks!
Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Talon 1: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Confirm? [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

Talon 2: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]
Confirm? [roll10]
Damage: [roll11]

H3 (Troop) does a swift action thingy and heals for [roll12] HP.
H3 then moves toward the southern watchtower.

H4 dashes over to the wolf (G) and mounts up swiftly. He then wheels around and follows after the troop. He also triggers an Attack of Opportunity from Aidan.

H5 moves and attempts to cast a spell on Nora. Will save, please. Saved: You suffer agonizing pain that imposes a –4 penalty on attack rolls, skill checks, and ability checks for 1 round.

C1-C5 come down from the air and land on several of the wooden posts holding the cages.

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus giggled a little, then immolated the center of the camp once more.

[roll0] G, H4, H3, H5, O2

[CockroachTeaParty]

Flying over the center of the camp, Torg suddenly became visible in the form of a giant vulture. He invoked the wrath of nature down upon the large troop of hobgoblins as a column of golden fire streaked down from the heavens.


Torg is now visible! Wee!

He casts flame strike on H5 and H3
Ref. DC 18 for half, half damage is fire the other half is divine energy.
[roll0]

[Jade_Tarem]

Nora stumbled her way to the other corner of the tower. There was an entirely too aggressive owl nearby and she wanted to take out its handler, but the shooting pains were going to make that difficult. (Elven) "Ahaaaaagh. That's no fun. Wait your turn, eh?"

There was nothing else to do but open fire on the hobgoblin below, and ignore the bird as best she could. The hobs were dropping like flies, anyway.

Swift Action to activate double judgment - Justice and Destruction (Attack and Damage).
Attack Modifiers: Rapid Shot -2, Deadly Aim -2, Pain thing -4, Justice Judgment +2, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2
Damage Modifiers: Deadly Aim +4, Destruction Judgment +3, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2d6 and +2

Full Attack! The target is H1

Attack 1: [roll0]
Damage 1: [roll1] + [roll2]
Attack 2: [roll3]
Damage 2: [roll4] + [roll5]
Attack 3: [roll6]
Damage 3: [roll7] + [roll8]

[Tychris1]

Lining up her glaive in the air, Ulva flattened herself parallel with the ensorcelled weapon, and with a scowl of determination she shot forward through the air like a violent screaming rocket.

”NGAAAAAAAH!” She bellowed as her invisibility peeled away to reveal a flying battle maiden.


Charge Power Attack H4:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1] + [roll2]

[PepperP.]

"Our business is with the Ironfang!" Veric shouted back at the Harpy that had addressed him but focused his fire on the last standing hobgoblin he could see.

Attack on H2
Haste, Aspect of the Falcon, Gravity Bow, Rapid Shot, Clustered Shots, Favorite Enemy (+4), Manyshot, Deadly Aim.
Full Attack
Attack 1
[roll0]
Damage
Arrow 1
[roll1]
Arrow 2
[roll2]
Haste Attack
[roll3]
Damage
[roll4]
Rapid Shot Attack
[roll5]
Damage
[roll6]
Iterative Attack
[roll7]
Damage
[roll8]

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Skirting close to the enormous wolf, Aidan snapped out at the beast's haunches.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Sneak Attack: [roll2]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

All but one of the hobgoblins in the upper camp were slain, and the final representative of his outfit fired a pair of shots at Veric, who was perched atop a flying Torg. Below, the wolf paused a moment to sniff the air and find the location of his master's assailant before attempting to bite Aidan. In Nora's tower, the remaining owl decided that discretion was the better part of valor and started to fly away.

Meanwhile, down below in the Harpy camp, the leader fell silent as Veric was born away from the cages, though she and the other harpies continued to watch intently.

G uses a move action to pinpoint Aidan's location via Scent, and then attacks: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Miss chance: misses on 1-50: [roll4]

Owl 1 withdraws straight westward.

H2 pew pews at Veric: Rapid Shot/Manyshot/Deadly Aim/Favored Enemy/Heroism

Attack 1: [roll5]
Arrow 1 Damage: [roll6]
Arrow 2 Damage: [roll7]

Confirm? [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]

Rapid Shot attack: [roll10]
Damage: [roll11]
Confirm? [roll12]
Damage: [roll13]

Attack 2: [roll14]
Damage: [roll15]
Confirm? [roll16]
Damage: [roll17]

[CockroachTeaParty]

The last remaining hobgoblin was a decent shot, and seeing Veric take fire, Torg dove. With one last great flap of his wings, he landed on the other side of the large tent, buying them some cover from the archer. He returned to his natural form, confident his Alpha Instinct spell would dissuade the great wolf from attacking. Instead, he turned towards the harpies down below on the escarpment, perched on the perilous gibbets holding the prisoners.

"What are these prisoners to you, harpies?" he shouted down at the winged creatures.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

The spokesharpy eyed first Veric and then Torg before answering, "The Ironfang are nothing to us! Do as you will! This is our land, and they are as much trespassers as you! They slew three of our sisters. Slay them and begone! Leave us in peace. The prisoners are ours; compensation for our loss!"

[Jade_Tarem]

With the aggravating bird having given its owl, and with the crippling magical pain subsiding, Nora turned her attention to the jailers over the cliff. She did not care for their definitions of territory nor their criminal and justice system. Harpies were foul, sexually predatory creatures who would have their way with the captive men and kill them regardless of their actions. With a mutter of, "I've got your compensatory wood right here," she shifted Cayden's ire to the new creatures and opened fire.

Free Action: 5' Adjust
Swift Action: Shift Bane to Monstrous Humanoid
Attack Modifiers: Rapid Shot -2, Deadly Aim -2, Justice Judgment +2, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2
Damage Modifiers: Deadly Aim +4, Destruction Judgment +3, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2d6 and +2

Full Attack! All shots are vs. C5 unless it goes down before I'm done. I'll walk the shots north from there if that happens.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2]
Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4] + [roll5]
Damage: [roll6] + [roll7] (Manyshot)
Attack: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9] + [roll10]

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus took a moment to mentally line up the path and detonation point of his fireball to spare the hanging prisoners, but incinerate the harpies.

[roll0] DC 20 all harpies

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

Septimus' fireball exploded with a low roar, singing the feathers of all five of the remaining harpies and blackening the wooden posts they were perched atop, causing the now-damaged wood to creak dangerously with the weight of the prisoner cages straining them. The prisoners in said cages screamed in fright at the ball of flame coming so close, while hobgoblin prisoner, who was not so near, cheered as the harpies took damage.

Still PCs turn: Torg, Ulva, and Veric

[PepperP.]

Relieved that the harpies weren't working with the Ironfang, Veric nevertheless knew that they couldn't leave the harpies their prey.

"Hand over the prisoners, or else!" To punctuate his threat, Veric aimed at the most wounded looking harpy and fired a volley of shots at her.


Indimidate
[roll0]
Attack on C4
Haste, Aspect of the Falcon, Gravity Bow, Rapid Shot, Clustered Shots, Manyshot.
Full Attack
Attack 1
[roll1]
Damage
Arrow 1
[roll2]
Arrow 2
[roll3]
Haste Attack
[roll4]
Damage
[roll5]
Rapid Shot Attack
[roll6]
Damage
[roll7]
Iterative Attack
[roll8]
Damage
[roll9]

[Tychris1]

Going wide, Ulva flipped herself over in the air, and rapidly began slashing at the wolf.


Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

Attack:[roll2]
Damage:[roll3]

Attack:[roll4]
Damage:[roll5]

[TheDarkDM]

Aidan

Thankful for Ulva's sudden appearance, Aidan shifted around the wolf.

"Careful Ulva! I want this one alive!"

Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Haste Bite: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Claw 1: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

Claw 2: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

"You lost what chance you had to bargain when you slew our sisters!" shouted the leader in return. "Now you die! Take them, sisters!" With that, the leader sped off toward Septimus while the other two moved apart and began to sing a captivating song that wormed its way into the minds of those who heard it, beckoning those who could not resist toward the harpies.

C1 is going to use the Run action to fly 4x speed (in this case, 320 ft) toward Septimus while the other two spread out and sing their Captivating Song. I need a Will Save from everyone within 300 feet of C2 and C3.

Captivating Song (Su) A harpy’s song has the power to infect the minds of those that hear it, calling them to the harpy’s side. When a harpy sings, all creatures aside from other harpies within a 300-foot spread must succeed on a DC 16 Will saving throw or become captivated. A creature that successfully saves is not subject to the same harpy’s song for 24 hours. A victim under the effects of the captivating song moves toward the harpy using the most direct means available. If the path leads them into a dangerous area such as through fire or off a cliff, that creature receives a second saving throw to end the effect before moving into peril. Captivated creatures can take no actions other than to defend themselves. A victim within 5 feet of the harpy simply stands and offers no resistance to the harpy’s attacks. This effect continues for as long as the harpy sings and for 1 round thereafter. This is a sonic mind-affecting charm effect. The save DC is Charisma-based.

If you fail vs both songs, follow the first one you failed against.

[Nefarion Xid]

Impressed with the harpy's speed, Septimus prudently chose to cast Greater Invisibility, floated off in a random direction, and plugged his fingers in his ears.

[PepperP.]

Veric

gritting his teeth against the harpies song, Veric sneered back a reply that doubtless went unheard above the cacophony.

"Die? Not by your hands."

Haste, Aspect of the Falcon, Gravity Bow, Rapid Shot, Clustered Shots, Manyshot, Unchained Heart.
Full Attack
Attack 1
[roll0]
Damage
Arrow 1
[roll1]
Arrow 2
[roll2]
Haste Attack
[roll3]
Damage
[roll4]
Rapid Shot Attack
[roll5]
Damage
[roll6]
Iterative Attack
[roll7]
Damage
[roll8]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg centered himself, breathing deep and exhaling. He let the hypnotic lure of the harpies' songs wash over him like waves lapping at the base of an implacable mountain. The dwarf made a series of strange motions with his hand as he muttered strange syllables in Druidic.

Lastly, he made a mental note to figure out who the other archer was that was helping them fight.


Torg is casting Summon Nature's Ally IV as a full-round action.

[Jade_Tarem]

Nora just shook her head as the harpies began to belt out their classic song, trusting her god to protect her from their captivating magic. She maintained her faint smile and readied more arrows before opening fire.

Attack Modifiers: Rapid Shot -2, Deadly Aim -2, Justice Judgment +2, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2
Damage Modifiers: Deadly Aim +4, Destruction Judgment +3, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2d6 and +2

Full Attack! All shots are vs. C3 unless it goes down before I'm done. Remaining shots go to C2 with a -2 range penalty.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2]
Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4] + [roll5]
Damage: [roll6] + [roll7] (Manyshot)
Attack: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9] + [roll10]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

The lead harpy let out a shriek of pure frustration as her quarry vanished, but she quickly suppressed the emotion and belted out her enchanting song all the louder. The remaining creature continued singing, focusing her attentions on Aidan and Ulva as they floated toward her.

C1 and C2 both sing, hovering in place.

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus pelted the miserable creature nearest him with Magic Missiles, then began to drift back towards the group.

[roll0] damage

[Jade_Tarem]

Nora raised an eyebrow at the harpies'... odd choice of strategy, though her faint grin didn't fade. It was rout now, but you couldn't show mercy to something going for your throat.

Attack Modifiers: Rapid Shot -2, Deadly Aim -2, Range -2, Justice Judgment +2, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2
Damage Modifiers: Deadly Aim +4, Destruction Judgment +3, Divine Favor +2, Bane +2d6 and +2

Full Attack! All shots are vs. C2 unless it goes down before I'm done. Remaining shots go to C1 with a -6 range penalty (instead of -2, so only -4 more).

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2]
Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4] + [roll5]
Damage: [roll6] + [roll7] (Manyshot)
Attack: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9] + [roll10]

[PepperP.]

Veric

Concerned as the remaining harpy sped after Sept, Veric aimed carefully as the harpy faded into the distance.

Haste, Aspect of the Falcon, Gravity Bow, Rapid Shot, Clustered Shots, Manyshot, Unchained Heart.
Full Attack at -6 for distance
Attack 1
[roll0]
Damage
Arrow 1
[roll1]
Arrow 2
[roll2]
Haste Attack
[roll3]
Damage
[roll4]
Rapid Shot Attack
[roll5]
Damage
[roll6]
Iterative Attack
[roll7]
Damage
[roll8]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

The final harpy tried to flee, but it was all in vain, for the steady aim of Veric and the dogged pursuit from Torg's summoned elemental were too much for the beastly creature. She was felled from the air, and the Fangbreakers set about collecting their well-earned loot.

And then there was the matter of the prisoners. Six were humans from the town of Radya's Hollow, while the last was a muscular grey-green hobgoblin by the name of Mahrzan. He was in the final cage, away from the humans, and had been stripped bare of all possessions and clothing. His state of undress did not seem to bother him, for he was too overjoyed with the destruction of his tormenters. "You have no idea how happy I am that you came along!" he said, as the party came closer. "I did nothing to those harpies but rebuff the advances of that repugnant Wenda! But you sure took her down a few notches, shooting her out of the sky. I am forever grateful. And, listen, I don't even mind that you slaughtered my unit. I've had it with this war and the marching. I'd just like to leave and never look back. So, uh, if I could have some clothes, a little food, and some hunting gear, I'll be out of your way and you'll never see me again!"

Finally, in the commander's tent there was a small gnome. She was huddled under the table she was chained to, and called out cautiously as the sound of battle faded. "H-hello? Are they dead?"



On the bodies of the Sharpshooters:
2 x Elixirs of hiding
4 x Potions of cure moderate wounds
2 x +1 breastplate
2 x +1 composite longbow (+2 Str)
2 x Mwk scimitar
2 x Mess kit
2 x Mwk backpack
170 gp

On the body of Sergeant Dargg:
1 x Mwk breastplate with armor spikes
1 x Mwk heavy steel shield
1 x +1 flaming light flail
1 x Cloak of resistance +1
Keys to the pay chest (see Treasure below) and gibbet cages
1 x Silver-and-enamel Ironfang bravery medal (75 gp)

On the unconscious Gruzak:
1 x Mwk chain shirt barding
1 x Military saddle

Treasure: The Ironfang Legion keeps a locked chest in the command post. The chest contains 15,000 gp and an additional 4,500 gp in gems and jewelry to bribe local creatures into joining Kosseruk’s growing army. The chest also contains a reserve of potions, including five potions of cure moderate wounds, a potion of fly, and a potion of tongues.

Dargg’s command post includes several valuable communiqués from other Ironfang outposts throughout the Hollow Hills, discussing preparations for an all-out assault on the walled city of Longshadow to commence in 12 days. These intelligence reports detail progress at a warbeast training camp, securing a nesting location for new wyvern scouts, the siege engineers’ efforts to transport their war machines to the rendezvous site, and recent developments at the munitions camp established in the conquered town of Ecru.

On the bodies of the Carrion Brides:
5 x +1 studded leather
25 x Javelins
5 x Cloaks of elvenkind
5 x Rings of protection +1
5 x Bags of uncut jet gems (worth 1500 gp in total (300 each))

[Nefarion Xid]

"Shut your yammering!" Septimus pointed his castin' finger at the hobgoblin in the cage. "No one here cares about you or your tragic backstory. If we want your opinion, we'll ask. Until then, if I hear one more word out of you, I'm going to turn you to ash like your friends!"


He turned to the strange elf as the party gathered. "What are you some kind of badass hobgoblin hunter? What are you doing out here by yourself?"

[Jade_Tarem]

"Seems a bit harsh, don't it?" Was all Nora said concerning Septimus's comments on the hobgoblin. When he started talking to her directly, though, she responded evenly in an accent that was hard to place, as if Irrisen and the Linnorms had a baby. "My name is Nora Rauri. I'm an agent of Cayden Cailean, and before anyone says it, yes, there are things he cares about besides havin' a good time. I'm looking for a group called the Fangbreakers. I don't suppose you could point me to them? Or perhaps you are them? It would make a certain amount of sense." When Septimus responded only with a smirk, she shrugged, "alright, can you at least direct me to someone who isn't too fancy to answer, then?"

[Nefarion Xid]

Septimus couldn't decide if he should be flattered or insulted at being called fancy. He shrugged. "Yup. I'm Septimus Severus. That's my cousin Veric. Ulva. Torg's a druid. Aidan bites people and drinks strange liquids, not in that order. We're in the business of killing hobgoblins and business is booming."

[Jade_Tarem]

"That's good! I guess I'll wait for everyone else to gather before I properly ask to join you. In the meantime, we ought to see about the captives, hey?" The faint smile returned, and Nora quickly made her way to the gnome. "How are ye holding up? Anything rigged to go off if I set you free?"

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

The gnome leapt to her feet. "No!" She shook her head and yanked desperately at the chain holding her. The gnome stood approximately three feet in height, with light blue hair and a button nose. "Nibbitz is my name. Assayer from Radya's Hollow. We must go; we must run! East! Or south! But not west; noooo, not west. The Ironfang is coming! The Legion will sweep the plains like wildfire in the grass. But first, you will free me?" Nibbitz stopped yanking at the chain and held up the slack to Nora. "Please?"

[Tychris1]

”Easy for you to say, doc!” She howled in the midst of combat as her attacks narrowly missed the wolf’s frame repeatedly. Then she was suddenly caught off guard by singing and she did not resume speaking until combat had ended. Floating in the air looking around aimlessly, she grumbled to herself in Aklo, and slowly floated down to help loot and secure things.

Wordlessly she went through the process of disassembling and rooting through people, the process well engrained into her muscle memory, and the previous bluster of combat was gone from the melancholy girl. A spark of it returned as they finished looting and the newly named Nora asked about her friends. She took a breathe in to speak but then Septimus started operating and her single eye was enraptured in how it moved just so. Staring, she had just realized that she forgot her introduction.

“I’m Ulva Vansich!” She dashed to get within handshaking distance of the archer. She threw both of her arms in one direction and banged her head in the other in a pose she assumed was the coolest way to look in full plate. Standing erect, she threw both of her fists onto her hip and stuck a pose, and flashed a massive crooked tooth grin “We killed a Dragon!”

“We’re heroes! You wanna save the world?” She held her hand up towards the elven archer.

[CockroachTeaParty]

The dwarf of the group, apparently called Torg, approached Nora, resembling nothing so much as a moss-covered boulder that had sprouted a beard. Upon closer examination, the dwarf's stone plate mail was masterfully crafted, and the rest of his equipment had a decidedly natural feel: the sprig of holly and mistletoe at his belt certainly identified him as a druid, if the shapeshifting and summoning hadn't been a more obvious sign.

Eyes of black flint scrutinized the Caydenite beneath bushy brows and over a nose red with broken blood vessels. An earthy smell seemed to radiate from him. He seemed inexplicably hostile.
"...The Lucky Drunk sent you eh?" he said gruffly, arms crossed over his barrel chest.
"How long you been in Nirmathas? Are you up to speed with current events?"

[PepperP.]

Veric

Waiting for his turn at introductions quietly, Veric studied the newcomer with some interest. She was obviously a skilled archer but trust had never come easy to him, and after the Ironfang invasion of his hometown, less so.

"I'm Warden Veric Reid, of Phaendar. The Ironfang destroyed our village and we've been hunting them ever since. So excuse me if I agree with my cousin's assessment of our hobgoblin's situation." His tone was flat but he regarded the caged hob with naked hatred.

"Where do you hail from?"

[Nefarion Xid]

"I think the hob in the cage has had enough time to ruminate over his life choices. I'm going to go talk to him." The sorcerer jerked his head in the direction of the gibbets and went down once more. There, he drew his magic bastard sword and went to one of the posts holding up the structure.

"Alright. You have a minute prove your usefulness," he said, giving the wood an experimental whack. "Dazzle me with military intelligence and I'll let you live."

[roll0]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

"Uh..." Mahrzan glanced nervously at the blade as it sank into the wood. "Right. So, the boss - that's Dargg - was carrying a bunch of gold to bribe those harpy's into joining Kosseruk's army. Supposedly she wanted some more air support for the march on Longshadow in a couple of weeks. Dargg really need this deal to go down after he screwed up at the human village to the east and got a bunch of slaves and troops and Kosseruk's pet morlocks killed by the things in the mine. The jerk allowed Wenda - that was the lead Harpy - to have her way with me, but I said no. I don't want to screw with no ugly bird! A man's got his standards, after all. A couple of the boys took my side and we had a right good fight with the bird ladies; killed a few and really made 'em mad. Then they demanded satisfaction and Dargg let them have me. So they stuck me in the cage and there I've been ever since! If he wasn't dead, I'd kill him myself. This whole show has been a debacle ever since we entered the hills."

"Won't change things for Longshadow though. Kosseruk's got a huge army, and she's sending just a fraction of it to the city. We've got the run of the country across the river from Ecru down to the dwarf hold. It'll take a while to get past 'em, but it'll happen. Anyway, with Longshadow, we're set. Thousands of soldiers ready to march on the gates, hobgoblins, bugbears, minotaurs, you name it! Hundreds of warbeasts to batter their way through or over the walls. I've even heard we have some spies inside, sowing discord and convincing everyone the Legion is no threat. When the Legion attacks, they'll be ready to seize and open the gates. Even if you show up, you'll never get their defenses ready in the short time you have. The simpletons there believe they're secure behind their crumbling walls, heh. Then Kosseruk will sweep in and change things, but I don't want to live under no minotaur. She uses us hobgoblins like fodder, and then she'll cast us aside just like Dargg did to me! His second in command! Mark my words, best to just leave this country like I want to and forget about it all."

There's much truth in what Mahrzan is saying, but you think he may be exaggerating the strength of the army coming against Longshadow.

[Jade_Tarem]

"A pleasure to meet all of you," Nora offered, though she was mostly stalling for time while she assessed the truth of their words and hearts. Cayden gave her ways to read people, and the results she got were interesting. "I'm originally from Irrisen, but these days I help run an inn a bit south of Kalsgard whenever I'm not on 'church business.' When we heard of the Ironfang Invasion, there was a push to prepare... but we were getting ready to accept refugees. Then word got around that a group called the Fangbreakers had decided to stay and fight, and were doing a decent job of it." She glanced around, clearly indicating the piles of hobgoblin corpses. "Seems like the rumors were true. Cayden Cailean doesn't abide those subjugating others, and even that far north we've heard tales of their brutal slavery and tents made of human skin. I doubt you'll ever get an organized response from the likes of us, but I'm here to join you - if you like - with the full blessing of my god and all those who work in his service."

The elf took a deep breath. "I'm not much up on current events beyond that, but you can tell me all about what's been happening later. It seems our friend with the captives is wrapping up, aye? And we really ought to free Nibbitz, here."

[Nefarion Xid]

"I'm not really feeling dazzled." Septimus pouted at the hanging hobgbolin. "Not quite underwhelmed either. Just whelmed? You did say the magic word, 'spy', so I guess you can live. I mean, I'm not letting you go, but we'll come back for you in a few hours. Got to run an errand first."

The sorcerer rejoined the party and conveyed what he'd been told.

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills, Ridgeline Camp

Torg flew off back to Radya's Hollow in search of the dwarves and two additional miners they'd left behind. In that time, the quintet of bearded folk plus one human had managed to gather a supply of useful clothing and food that might be needed for the journey to Longshadow. By the time Torg showed up, they were ready. So it was that in merely two hours' time, Torg had returned to the ridgeline camp and reunited all of the known survivors of Radya's Hollow with each other. All that remained was the trek to Longshadow with a possible stop along the way at the village of Redburrow. The Fangbreakers had seen no sign of the four rangers they had sent out on a scouting circuit, but hope remained that they would find them at the village ahead.

[Nefarion Xid]

While Torg made ready to depart, Septimus spoke with the gnome girl and convinced her the necessity to stick together. And also just how incredibly badass they were. Like wow. Longshadow was going to be so safe, you guys.

[roll0]

[Othniel]

Hollow Hills

Notwithstanding the puzzled look Nibbitz gave Septimus for his phrasing, the gnome woman agreed readily once the sorcerer's silver tongue was loosed and the importance of their mission suitably impressed upon the gnome. Shortly thereafter the group departed southwestward. The climb down from the ridge was the most precarious for those on foot, but with careful attention paid to footing, all made it down without hurt.

After some two hours' progress, Torg was the first to see four bird-like creatures circling what appeared to be two overturned wagons on the ground. Drifting northeast toward the caravan was the unmistakable scent of rotting flesh.

[Nefarion Xid]

After consulting with Nora, Septimus gathered Torg with them and went on foot to greet the griffons. He didn't actually know what he wanted out of the encounter or what he was supposed to say to a griffon, but he made the attempt anyway.

"Hail most noble beasts, masters of the sky!" He bowed deeply and motioned for his companions to do the same. He continued to invent increasingly obsequious platitudes until the creatures were content to let him approach, at which point he offered them jerky.

[roll0]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Torg had been doing a series of lazy circles around the ground-bound group as they traveled. He kept the bound hobgoblin captive in his claws, and after a while of nothing but the wind whistling around them, he spoke to the creature.

"Do you keep any gods, soldier of the Ironfang?"

But as the griffons could be seen in the distance, he realized any discussion with the prisoner would have to wait. He deposited the hobgoblin with the miners before flying up and around the party, keeping an eye on the griffons with his huge roc-eyes.