Chapter 2: South Wind

[Psychie]

Renna winds up with a powerful swing. "You are an abomination in the eyes of Iomeade! For that, I will cleave you in two!"

Since I don't have the Smite Evil going on this guy, damage is only 2d6+9

 

[Silanon]

Unfortunately, the paladin cannot quite keep her word - given the unnatural resilience, her sword gets stuck halfway through the man's chest. That said, the gruesome wound ends up lethal enough, and the undead gleam vanishes as his remains collapse right on the spot in front of Renna.

With that, the immediate danger seems gone - the swamp around you is rather silent once more, almost peaceful after the undead creatures were slain. The moon breaks through the drifting clouds, lets you take a closer look at those you fought. The orc does not seem particularly special apart from his undeadiness - wherever the skin is still intact, it is covered by faded, traditional inks, quite common for the invading tribes. In contrast to the others, he seemingly died at least a few weeks ago, maybe longer - hard to say with such magics involved.

The halfling scout, possessed by the warbringer (or at least that'd be an natural conclusion) was still alive when you met him here - he still carried rations for at least one week, as well as some items of personal interest. Amongst them, there is a diary-like book, as well as a tiny scroll with the symbol of the Forgotten on it, deerskin wrapped around it to protect the parchment from water and rain. Other than that, his enchanted light crossbow is still useable, and comes with 20 additional bolts.

Lastly, the falconer's armor is not much more than scrap metal after Renna's strike - maybe the mithril will earn you a few coins further down the path, though, if you want to carry the weight along. His rapier, while utterly broken, probably was an impressive weapon once upon a time, magical runes and symbols along its thin blade's remains. There is no sign where the missing part is - probably lost somewhere amidst these swamps. His heavy crossbow is of solid quality, but seems rather unusual for a scout who is not supposed to run into heavily-armored foes. His backpack, now sliced open by some paladin's greatsword, includes rations for himself, and meat slices for the bird, all of them fresh and carefully packed away. Additionally, a diary, another thick book, some pieces of paper filled with hasty notes. A pipe, some weed to smoke, and the usual equipment one might expect. A medaillon made of silver once more shows the symbol of the Forgotten - alongside runes that were meant to protect him, but obviously did a rather poor job at that. Examining him more closely, it does not seem as if he'd have been dead for more than about a day, maybe even less than that. His bird probably died a few hours before him - for the first time, that is. Its remain are rather unspectacular, though probably a magnificent speciman if you're interested in studying the living dead.

The nearby fight seems to have ended as well - at least, the dwarven shouts have stopped. For the moment, you are undisturbed, free to take a deep breath, have a drink, and take a closer look at whatever little detail might catch your attention.

 

[Psychie]

The paladin yanks her blade from the remains and wipes off the length of her sword with a cloth. No need to leave that putrid gunk on the weapon, is there? As she does so, she says, "Gather up the diaries. There might be something of critical need to us or the rest of the army in them. Wren, are you feeling up to scouting over near the sounds of the other fight out there? As you have so eloquently put it before, you do move quieter than I do with my armor. If not, perhaps Veskassdak might take a look."

 

[Sherwood]

Wren looks up at Renna. "I guess so, but, if possible, could you give me a bit of healing? I'm not badly hurt, but if there is something out there that has hostile intent towards me, I want to be at full health before trying to run away from it."

 

[Psychie]

Renna nods. "My pardon, I should have offered up my healing earlier. Is anyone else in need of Iomeade's blessing?" As she asks this, she reaches out to the rogue and places a hand on her shoulder and murmurs a quiet prayer, feeling the healing energies flow into the other woman.

Lay on Hands x7 left, doing 2d6 healing

 

[Silanon]

Apparently, Iomadae is confident in the rogue's abilities as they are right now - the energies heal her for whooping 2 hit points, only closing a few deeper scratches. Does Wren wish to sneak eastwards to see what happened out of your line of sight? If so, what do the others do in the meantime? Scanning the area, keeping watch, or taking a closer look at any of the items? Or perhaps searching the bdies more closely, just in case you did miss something?

 

[Sherwood]

Wren will quietly put her weapons away and slowly make her way eastwards, towards the earlier sounds of fighting. "My thanks, Renna. But, just to let you know, if I run into trouble, I don't plan on sticking around out there to face it alone. I'll be making haste back to the rest of you guys to help save my pretty skin." She flashes off a smile in the dim light of Renna's Ioun Torch, then turns to set off into the dark. Occasionally, Wren will pause in her trip to stop and listen, trying to get a handle on what she might be walking into.

 

[Silanon]

Carefully moving forward, it takes a while until Wren can notice more than the swamp's silence. The first thing she hears is the sound of movements as if someone would drag along some heavy weight. Getting closer, that noise becomes more frequent, accompanied by the sounds of metal and other materials as if they were piled up together. Finally, your eyes get to see something as well - about hundred feet ahead, you see a group of two dozen small figures carrying torches, wearing heavy, dwarven armor. They seem to have gathered around something of interest, and don't bother to watch out for anything around them. Surrounding the group in a distance of ten feet, magical lights encircle them, dancing around as if they'd be living creatures on their own. A few low voices can be heard, but you're too far away to understand them. Do you wish to approach the group, or would you rather turn around right now?

 

[Dicer]

Seeing the last of their foes fall, Veskassdak relaxed his rage. Again he felt his rage fatigue suffuse his form as his breathing slowed to normal. "Warbringer," he wheezed, "wissshesss usss ssshow our fight ssspirit. That why red-eyesss find usss. Usss ssshow Warbringer ssstrong we am."
When Renna suggests he look at the fighting they had heard earlier, he took a steadying breath and said, "Wren move better. Will come fassst if help needed."

Spoiler

Man, you go to bed, wake up to go to work, get done with work, and everyone speeds ahead without giving you a chance to post a response. Veskassdak is supposed to be the fastest land traveler in the group, but I'm always catching up! };^)

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Baird breathes a sigh of relief as the fight was over with him taking some damage, and helping to hurt the enemies too. Baird picks up the scout's heavy crossbow in an attempt to figure out if his crossbow is the same make or if it's better than the one he currently uses. While he does that however, he whispers, "we'll be waiting for you Wren, signal if you need some help." Baird will also look amongst the bodies to see anything that the group might have missed after looking over the crossbow.
Silanon Dicer Psychie Sherwood

 

[Sherwood]

After getting a good count of the number of dwarves and any symbols or insignias on their clothes, she turns to head back to the rest of the team to report in.

 

[Silanon]

Other than the items mentioned before, there seems to be nothing else of interest - at least the sorcerer does not manage to spot anything else. The heavy crossbow picked up by him, however, is a solid find in itself. Mastercrafted and enchanted, it likely will offer a little more punch when the next fight inevitably comes up.

Io musters the lizardman as he mentions the Warbringer. "I could think of better things to do during the night than fighting off his mindless minions there's no need to impress him, is there?" She has grabbed the scroll carried by the halfling, mustering the emblem on it. "Probably some of the scouts they sent ahead - I hope the others did at least a little better." Opening the scroll, it seems to be a map of Kazragun, or at least of the parts they've seen thus far. Two of the white areas are marked, probably for further observation - close to each other, they are both on the western part of the city, right behind the outer walls.


Meanwhile, Wren takes a last glance at the dwarves - it looks as if they'd be part of the Third Princes, the same mercenary company that hired your group. They seem to be a group of roughly two dozen fighters, though the exact numbers are hard to guess, given the lighting and the fact that they grouped up around something. There seems to be some disagreement, at least a few angry scraps of conversation can be heard. "Just burn them", is the one you can understand, right before someone tosses his torch at whatever happens to have caught their interest. Right as you want to turn around, you can see how a person between them stands up, human-sized, the head well hidden underneath a hood. The magical lights slowly move towards the almost lank figure, as if commanded by the person - likely a mage of some sort, though he or she does wear light armor instead of a robe.

 

[Sherwood]

Wren does her best to commit to memory as many details as she can about the group of dwarves and the mysterious figure in the cloak before heading back towards the others. Before stepping out of the trees, she calls out, "It's me. Stand at ease." No need for someone to attack her, thinking that she is another of the possessed. Once out in the open, she quickly summarizes what she has seen for the others.

OOC What approximate time is it?

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Having acquired the crossbow from their fallen foe, Baird keeps an eye out for anything suspicious. Upon hearing a rustling, he wheels around with the business end of the crossbow pointed towards the source of the noise. Only after Wren announces herself does he relax, easing his tense shoulders. "what's the word?"

 

[Sherwood]

She looks over at Baird as she slides down to take a seat. "Dwarves. A whole mess of 'em, I'd say twenty to twenty five or so, all dressed and equipped as a bunch of fighters. There was another figure, much taller, perhaps human or elf, wearing lighter armor with a robe pulled up over his head so I couldn't see. They were all grouped together, looking at something that I couldn't make out, and I was too far away to hear much in the way of conversation. From their clothes, I'd have to say they were a part of the Third Princes' forces."

 

[Silanon]

Io, looking up from her findings, musters you rather curiously. "That'd be rather early, then - they wanted to start the attack in the morning, not in the middle of the night." At this point, it might be two hours after midnight, and thus still a few hours until dawn.

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

"Regardless, I still think that we should get some sleep. If we are attacking tomorrow, we should be in top shape. I for one am nothing without my spells sadly."

 

[Dicer]

"Agreed," Veskassdak said. "Isss watch mine now. Sssleep all you. Trouble come, will you wake me by."
With that he settled down for his vigil.

 

[Silanon]

You decide to rest for a few more hours, letting your allies do whatever they're meant to be doing without any interruption. If they're aware of your presence at all, they do not bother to disturb you, either: you might hear a distant dwarven shout a few minutes later on, that's it. Veskassdak's watch passes by rather uneventfully; a single pigeon flying southwards is the only living being that catches the lizardman's attention.

You all get ready when the first sunrays paint the eastern sky in warm colors, welcoming a day full of bloodshed. A steady wind from south blows northwards carrying the noises of men, women and horses preparing for war. However, from what you can tell, the fighting has already begun. At about two dozen places within the swamps, black trails of smoke can be seen - one of them a bit further east, potentially inflamed by the dwarves Wren saw. But they seem rather meaningless compared to the plumes of smoke over the northern cliffs - it seems as if parts of Kazragun are already burning, hit by troops that, strictly speaking, weren't supposed to attack there yet.

"And so it begins." You didn't notice anyone approaching - and yet, there is a familiar person standing just a few feet away from your camp: Wearing the same dark blue robe as earlier, resting on his walking cane as if he'd simply enjoy the sunrise rather than watching the beginning of another bloody battle, the halfling Whitehair musters the rising smoke. He is accompanied by two somehow shapeless figures - their appearance seems to change constantly, making no secret of their inhuman nature. One of them seems to consist of pure fire, blazing away to illuminate the trees around you; the other one is made of fluid water, frequently forming ice crystals to give its shape some kind of concrete form. Whenever one changes its shape once more, the other one follows immediately, trying to outdo the rival in some way or another. An icy dragon beats a phoenix, but can't stand up to a burning tigress - the game continues without pause.

Given the additional time to rest, all of your wounds will be healed once more. I assume noone spent the rest of the night reading through the books you found - if you want, you can take a short look at one of them as you prepare for the day, and I'll include a bit of information you might have gathered in the next post as well.

 

[Psychie]

Renna rises with a prayer to Iomeade before turning her attention to the speaker. Recognizing the halfling, she offers up a polite bow. "Well met, noble Whitehair. What news do you have of the upcoming battle?"

 

[Sherwood]

Wren is up early, wanting to take a better look at the papers that were recovered off of the bodies of the fallen scouts that they dispatched during the night. There might be some important information to be gleaned from the books that could result in many lives being saved for the fighting against the orcs.

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Baird decides to look over his items again in an attempt to figure out anything he might have missed in the past
((looks over the pendant, robes, the crossbow, and the scrying orb. Sorry if I'm being very repetitive, just want to know what they do))

 

[Dicer]

Veskassdak was startled when the small mammal spoke. He had not been there moments earlier. Before he could bring himself to prepare for new combat, he relaxed when he recognized who the voice belonged to. He turned and was again surprised by the the small mammal's companions. He had never heard of nor ever seen the likes before. One appeared to be living, ever changing, flame while the other appeared to be mobile, always flowing, water. He had suspected the small mammal was a power, but never to this degree.

"Shartelsha, Eltrunak," Veskassdak spoke to the small mammal. "Ssstealthy are you and thossse. Have plansss us needed now know from you?"

 

[Silanon]

The results of your studies - first off, Baird:
Apart from its high quality, there is nothing special about the crossbow.
The orb does not respond to your attempts to find out more this time - maybe, it'll show its advantages later on, but at least for now, it seems rather useless. As it's related to the swamps, maybe someone else is better off taking care of it.
The amulet already showed you memories of the golden dragon - if there are more spells woven into it, you cannot detect them, at least for now.
The robe seems not to have any special properties, other than its masterful creation - the magic around it might just be remains of its production process, and not offer any special protection or other support.
Speaking about magic: Examining the scroll you secured, you finally manage to reach a breakthrough. Finding a single symbol describing a word you'd translate as exhaling, you manage to understand the scroll from there. It allows a person to breath fire during the fight, practically offering him a dragon's power for a few seconds.

Spoiler

1d10, 120 ft, 19-20/x2 crit, and additionally mastercrafted, enchanted +1, so +1 on attack rolls and damage.
Scroll of Fire Breath
rolled a 1 for the orb, and high-rolls for both the clothing and the amulet - no other properties for them for now.

Now for the rogue:
You found the halfling's diary, a map, as well as the falconer's book, diary and notes.
First off, the diary of the halfling scout: Scrolling through it, there seems not to be too much - apart from many grammatical errors and a writing that is hard to read at best, you get the impression of someone who certainly didn't earn his food by proper work. The last few entries are of more interest: "Joined the Forgotten - better off hiding here for now." "Got assigned to the scouts - tent close to the noble scum." Multiple lists of valuable things, apparently sold for little money. "Almost got caught today. Shouldn't have tried to steal the damn thing. Got lucky." "We're leaving tonight - good moment to get away."
The map has several routes on it, mostly pointing towards the two marked areas. Likely the way how they advanced.
The diary of the falconer seems to be filled with useles advice about his precious bird - hard to say if it's of any use, you don't find anything of importance for now. The book, however, has many details on how to properly train a hawk. If you ever happen to need that kind of knowledge, you'll likely find good advice in there, given enough time to look things up.
Lastly, his notes. They seem to describe the last few days, different orders and commands. Not much of interest, at least for now, only two sentences catch your eye. "Shaona told us to get closer. Risky, we've got the most important area to cover; something's there. Do some damage, burn the corpses. Send the bird if we need help." And, in the end: "Should have let them kill me - saw them burn the corpses as well. Now we both will end up like those monsters. Can hear his breath further down. Heard a bird - maybe Krya? Doesn't matter. Hope at least the halfling made it back."
Before you can gather any further insight, the halfling appears to interrupt your research.

Spoiler

The book will give you a +4 on handling animals when dealing with birds of prey when given enough time to look for advice.

"If anyone here is truly stealthy, it'd be probably you and those others around. I had hoped a friend of mine would find you out here, but obviously, that was not the case. Maybe she did not try too hard, though - it seems as if noone can forget his quarrels to work together for just a few days." He turns away from the northern sky, mustering Io for just a few moments before nodding to those who welcomed him, his necklace clanging to greet all of you. "The Forgotten feared that things would go badly if they wait for the others to join them - thus, they decided to strike early, as expected, apparently with some success. The dwarves were next, noticing the sudden lack of Forgotten within the camp - they marched forward to help despite better knowledge, and now Order and nobles are hurrying forward to make sure they get their fair share of fighting as well." The halfling shakes his head in disapproval, points at those who accompany him. "If fire and ice can work together, why can't those wise and honorable leaders understand that they'll need each other if they want to stand a chance?" He pauses for a moment, as if to calm himself. "Anyway, I spoke to Shaona. There is one group of scouts that did not return, and it was in a rather tricky area as well. I promised her to take care of that, one way or another - and hoped you'd be willing to take a closer look before any nasty surprises can happen."

 

[Psychie]

Renna picks up one of the books that was found on the three bodies last night. "We might have already run into them. There was a group of three that attacked us during the night. They were all either dead and animated or were possessed by some evil; the evil was almost flowing off of them like waves of water from the ocean. It was particularly disturbing. If they were the ones you were interested in, I did say a prayer over their bodies after we dispatched them. If they are not the ones you are looking for, we would of course be happy to go look for them."