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<blockquote data-quote="amethal" data-source="post: 4019399" data-attributes="member: 22784"><p><strong>Scene 3 – Dashgoban</strong></p><p><em>February 19th, 10 am</em></p><p></p><p>Lord Gallo holds another meeting with our heroes.</p><p></p><p>“Now you’ve brought back the evidence I need,” he says, “it is time to activate the mutual defence pacts I have with Dashgoban and Timor. I will be sending Jinis to meet with each of them, and I would like you to accompany him as his escort, in case he gets into any more trouble!</p><p></p><p>“The Talon are no doubt watching my borders by now. The best way to avoid them en route to Lord Dashgoban is to head through the Pitchwood. Of course, you’d have to get by the pitchlings, but its probably easier than taking on the Talon.”</p><p></p><p>Jonathan consults his memory. “Pitchlings are a type of fey,” he says. “They are apparently immune to fire based attacks. According to legend, if you hold an unlit torch in your hand it will spontaneously ignite if there is a pitchling within one hundred feet.”</p><p></p><p>“I will not be able to accompany you,” says Solsus. “The pitchlings are part of the unseelie court, whilst I am a seelie fey. By ancient treaty we are barred from each other’s lands.”</p><p></p><p>“After you have met with Lord Dashgoban, head to Lady Timor’s lands via the town of Pitchwood Burg. The town is on the edge of the forest, situated by the River Nashan. My spies tell me that King Steppengard is using the frozen river to move his army quickly northwards. If the citizens of Pitchwood Burg can be persuaded to spread their pitch harvest across the ice and ignite it, it will melt the river and force the King to move the rest of the way along the snow-bound roads.”</p><p></p><p>“Why don’t you offer them compensation for their harvest?” says Gribron. “It’ll be hard for them to survive the winter otherwise, whoever wins this war.”</p><p></p><p>Lord Gallo agrees, and authorises Jinis to offer a thousand gold pieces in compensation to the townsfolk.</p><p></p><p>“After Pitchwood Burgh,” continues the lord, “you can simply follow the road to Lady Timor’s capital. However, I’m sure the king will have it blockaded. Alternatively, you could scale the Glaskeel Cliffs, but that route is not for the faint hearted. They are over half a mile high.”</p><p></p><p>There being no further business, the party set off on the road to Dashgoban.</p><p></p><p>The Pitchwood is a dense forest of pitch pines. The road through it is about fifteen miles long and no one knows who built it. What is sure is that no one risks entering the forest to maintain it, so it is now little more than a narrow, muddy, overgrown track. The forest is alive with eerie noises, a bizarre mixture of giggles and thick, greasy dripping sounds. Anything could be hiding in the undergrowth.</p><p></p><p>Jonathan holds an unlit torch in his hand as he rides through the forest, in the hope that it will help him detect a pitchling ambush. They have travelled about five miles into the forest when his torch suddenly blazes into light.</p><p></p><p>The party halt their horses, and scan the terrain ahead. However, nobody can spot any pitchlings, or any other threats. They cast what defensive magics they can, and press on grimly.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly a voice calls out from the forest, in broken Common. “Leave money and stuff.! You go or we burn you!”</p><p></p><p>Gribron and Jonathan call out various things in reply, but it becomes clear the pitchlings speak very little of the Common tongue. The party try various other languages, but with even less success.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly the sound of chanting emerges from all sides. The party start to feel sleepy, but all except Ambar manage to shrug off the enchantment. The horses, however, are not so lucky, and begin to slump to the ground. Gribron is the first to react. He kicks his horse, which jerks awake with a start. However, there is another chanted spell and suddenly the undergrowth reaches round and grabs the horse, holding it fast.</p><p></p><p>“Got you!” says Gribron. He has spotted the creature which cast the last spell. It is a slender, spiny humanoid figure, completely naked but covered in a coating of black pitch. It has a spiky longbow, but no arrows. “There’s one over there,” he says, doing his best to point out the fey to his companions, then casts a spell. There is a loud trumpet blast, and Ambar and her horse start to wake up.</p><p></p><p>“Where is it?” says Caryk. “I can’t see anyone.”</p><p></p><p>“I can,” says Jonathan with a smile. A blast of cold flies from his fingers, and engulfs the pitchling. The creature’s flesh turns to ice, then shatters into a thousand pieces.</p><p></p><p>Five large gourds fly out from the forest, and strike home against the party. The fragile casings shatter, and the projectiles explode into flame. Agatha is struck; Gribron and Caryk are both struck twice. However, all the party can now see the fey who threw them, standing in a rough semicircle in front of out heroes.</p><p></p><p>Ambar retaliates with missiles of force. Agatha uses her eldritch blast, but it does reduced damage. It appears that, like Solsus, these fey are resistant to damage from attacks unless silver weapons are used.</p><p></p><p>Gribron’s horse tries to break free from the entangling vegetation, but to no avail. As is his wont these days, he creates a cloud of noxious black fumes. Three of the fey are caught within it. Two of them are overcome, and can only retreat, coughing and spluttering.</p><p></p><p>Jonathan tries to explode the mind of the fey who resisted the cloud, but the creature is too strong willed to succumb.</p><p></p><p>Caryk moves his horse over to the fey, skilfully guiding it past the clutching branches and brambles. He tries to leap off his mount and attack, but his foot catches in the stirrup and all he can manage is an undignified hop.</p><p></p><p>Gribron is starting to find his situation, atop a burning horse which is entangled by burning vegetation, to be uncomfortable hot. He concentrates for a second, vanishes and re-appears half way up a nearby tree.</p><p></p><p>The three surviving, (non-vomiting) fey continue to rain down fire on the party. Caryk nimbly side steps the missile aimed at him, but cannot avoid being splashed. Agatha and Ambar are both struck. They retaliate with more magic missiles and eldritch blasts. Jonathan finishes off one of their victims with another attack of cold.</p><p></p><p>Caryk, his intended target having been killed by Jonathan, heads over to another one. That particular fey aims a projectile at Gribron, but the mage quickly casts a mind-influencing spell and the fey decides to go for the nearby Caryk instead. However, his indecision costs him dear, and he fluffs the throw badly. Demoralised, the fey turns to run but Caryk quickly cuts him down.</p><p></p><p>The other two fey, presumably still vomiting, have melted back into the forest. The party briefly consider trying to track them by the sound, but decide venturing off the road into the depths of the forest would be foolhardy. They heal their wounds as best they can and carry on towards Lord Dashgoban’s castle. Fortunately, the rest of their journey through the Pitchwood passes without incident.</p><p></p><p>Lord Dashgoban’s castle is situated twenty miles from the Pitchwood, on a stone outcropping. Unusually, no town has grown up alongside the castle. Dashgoban’s cavalry are practising manoeuvres in the surrounding fields, but when the party arrive they stop, and greet them enthusiastically. It is clear they are eager for battle.</p><p></p><p>The party are shown into the castle, and Lord Dashgoban greets them warmly. Somewhat to the party’s surprise, he turns out to be a dwarf.</p><p></p><p>“My proxy was very impressed by the extremely articulate and convincing speech Balan gave at the audience with the King,” he says. “His words have spread among my men, and all of them are eager to foil the evil schemes of the Rasgesians. They’d ride off now if they could.</p><p></p><p>“I, on the other hand, must be a touch more pragmatic. Do you have any actual evidence that the Ragesians intend to do us harm?”</p><p></p><p>The party show him the documents they retrieved from Outpost Six. “Evidence I need and evidence I have!” bellows Lord Dashgoban. “I can lend Lord Gallo one thousand horse and two thousand foot. Join me in a toast to victory, and please accept my hospitality for the night.</p><p></p><p><strong>Scene 4 – Timor</strong></p><p><em>February 20th, 8 am</em></p><p></p><p>The party set off early towards Timor. As they leave they see signs that Lord Dashgoban’s army is preparing to break camp and head for Gallo.</p><p></p><p>Soon afterwards, they arrive at Pitchwood Burg. They ask to see the head of the town, and are brought before Father Albert, an old priest. Jinis, as the only trained diplomat in the group, does the talking.</p><p></p><p>Father Albert is initially unreceptive to the idea of sacrificing the pitch harvest. However, the promise of compensation from Lord Gallo of a thousand pieces of gold, coupled with the party’s assurances that Lord Dashgoban also favours the plan – something of a white lie, although they are sure the dwarf would have approved of the plan had they thought to mention it to him – soon brings him round.</p><p></p><p>Then it is time to head on to Timor, and the party have to decide on a route. It turns out that some of them are less than keen on the idea of a long climb up the steep Glaskeel cliffs, so they decide to take the road. If King Steppengard’s forces have indeed set up a blockade, then they’ll simply smash their way through it.</p><p></p><p>This is a situation in which Solsus would have proved very useful, but Agatha offers to take over the scouting duties in his absence. Her abilities are growing, and now include the power of flight. Gribron uses his invisibility spell to make her disappear from view, and she flies off ahead of the group.</p><p></p><p>The road to Lady Timor winds its way ever upwards. In many places, stone bridges cross deep gorges. At one such bridge, Agatha spots a group of horsemen hiding in a copse of trees at the far end. She returns to the party, and tells them what she has seen.</p><p></p><p>Gribron comes up with a plan. He casts a spell enabling him to levitate, and Caryk ropes him to his horse, which can then pull him along whilst he is up in the air. Gribron then makes himself and Jonathan invisible, and creates an illusion of himself and the two other invisible party members. He sets the illusion marching along the road. The real Caryk and Ambar walk alongside their illusionary companions.</p><p></p><p>Once the illusion rounds the bend before the bridge they are spotted by the horsemen. Seven men wearing the uniforms of King Steppengard’s army ride out from the copse of trees and confront the group.</p><p></p><p>“Stop and identify yourselves!” demands the leader.</p><p></p><p>“No thanks,” replies Jonathan, and unleashes a blast of fire far greater in area than anything the party have seen before. The hapless soldiers are caught completely unprepared, and all seven perish in the flames. The dying screams of men and horses echo through the hills.</p><p></p><p>“I’ve always wanted to do that,” says Jonathan. “Usually at least one of you would be within the area of effect, and I’ve had to do my best to resist the temptation.”</p><p></p><p>The party head across the bridge, eager to see if the bodies have anything worth looting. Suddenly a large, long limbed creature clambers up from underneath the bridge. It is sinuous, but very strong, and its hands end in razor sharp claws. It aims a lazy blow at Caryk which would have done serious damage had it connected, but the tortle manages to duck out of the way in the nick of time.</p><p></p><p>“Troll!” screams Jonathan. “Use fire and acid!”</p><p></p><p>“Okay,” replies Gribron, and two beams of flame erupt from his hand. One misses, but the other strikes true – and has no effect whatsoever. “Fire didn’t work,” says Gribron in dismay.</p><p></p><p>Jonathan hits the troll with a bolt of cold, and Agatha follows up with an eldritch blast. Meanwhile Ambar and Caryk take on the troll in hand to hand. They all do damage, but the troll’s wounds start to close again of their own accord. The beast tries to rip of Jonathan’s head, but misses.</p><p></p><p>Gribron uses his nauseating cloud, but trolls have strong stomachs and the creature is unaffected.</p><p></p><p>However, the combined efforts of the rest of the party manage to inflict wounds faster than the troll can heal them, and the creature collapses to the ground. “Quick,” says Jonathan. “Roll it off the bridge into the gorge before it recovers.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait!” says Gribron. “It has a couple of potion bottles in its belt. They might be worth something.” Whilst Agatha keeps blasting the prone troll, Gribron nimbly takes the potions. Then he, Jonathan and Caryk roll the troll off the bridge and into the gorge below.</p><p></p><p>“Do you think that will kill it?” asks Caryk.</p><p></p><p>“Who cares!” says Gribron. “Let’s get out of here.”</p><p></p><p>Soon afterwards, the party arrive at Lady Timor’s castle, and are granted an audience.</p><p></p><p>“I have heard of you,” she says by way of introduction. “Rumour has it you were responsible for putting out the fire in the Forest of Innenotdar.”</p><p></p><p>“That is correct,” says Jonathan. “The forest was possessed by a powerful fire spirit, and it seemed to us that the only way to save the fey of the forest was to defeat the spirit. This had the effect of putting out the fire.”</p><p></p><p>“We did what we thought was right,” says Caryk. “None of us were sure what the consequences would be, but it had to be attempted.”</p><p></p><p>“I won’t pretend to be pleased,” said Lady Timor. “The Ragesians are making slow and steady inroads into Gate Pass, and if the city was to fall they will have a clear run through the forest into my lands.</p><p></p><p>“However, I appreciate your honesty, and Balan’s speech has convinced me that the Ragesians must be opposed. I will commit the following forces to Lord Gallo’s cause – fifty mages, eight hundred infantry, two hundred cavalry and one of my elemental allies.”</p><p></p><p>The party’s mission has been a resounding success.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="amethal, post: 4019399, member: 22784"] [B]Scene 3 – Dashgoban[/B] [I]February 19th, 10 am[/I] Lord Gallo holds another meeting with our heroes. “Now you’ve brought back the evidence I need,” he says, “it is time to activate the mutual defence pacts I have with Dashgoban and Timor. I will be sending Jinis to meet with each of them, and I would like you to accompany him as his escort, in case he gets into any more trouble! “The Talon are no doubt watching my borders by now. The best way to avoid them en route to Lord Dashgoban is to head through the Pitchwood. Of course, you’d have to get by the pitchlings, but its probably easier than taking on the Talon.” Jonathan consults his memory. “Pitchlings are a type of fey,” he says. “They are apparently immune to fire based attacks. According to legend, if you hold an unlit torch in your hand it will spontaneously ignite if there is a pitchling within one hundred feet.” “I will not be able to accompany you,” says Solsus. “The pitchlings are part of the unseelie court, whilst I am a seelie fey. By ancient treaty we are barred from each other’s lands.” “After you have met with Lord Dashgoban, head to Lady Timor’s lands via the town of Pitchwood Burg. The town is on the edge of the forest, situated by the River Nashan. My spies tell me that King Steppengard is using the frozen river to move his army quickly northwards. If the citizens of Pitchwood Burg can be persuaded to spread their pitch harvest across the ice and ignite it, it will melt the river and force the King to move the rest of the way along the snow-bound roads.” “Why don’t you offer them compensation for their harvest?” says Gribron. “It’ll be hard for them to survive the winter otherwise, whoever wins this war.” Lord Gallo agrees, and authorises Jinis to offer a thousand gold pieces in compensation to the townsfolk. “After Pitchwood Burgh,” continues the lord, “you can simply follow the road to Lady Timor’s capital. However, I’m sure the king will have it blockaded. Alternatively, you could scale the Glaskeel Cliffs, but that route is not for the faint hearted. They are over half a mile high.” There being no further business, the party set off on the road to Dashgoban. The Pitchwood is a dense forest of pitch pines. The road through it is about fifteen miles long and no one knows who built it. What is sure is that no one risks entering the forest to maintain it, so it is now little more than a narrow, muddy, overgrown track. The forest is alive with eerie noises, a bizarre mixture of giggles and thick, greasy dripping sounds. Anything could be hiding in the undergrowth. Jonathan holds an unlit torch in his hand as he rides through the forest, in the hope that it will help him detect a pitchling ambush. They have travelled about five miles into the forest when his torch suddenly blazes into light. The party halt their horses, and scan the terrain ahead. However, nobody can spot any pitchlings, or any other threats. They cast what defensive magics they can, and press on grimly. Suddenly a voice calls out from the forest, in broken Common. “Leave money and stuff.! You go or we burn you!” Gribron and Jonathan call out various things in reply, but it becomes clear the pitchlings speak very little of the Common tongue. The party try various other languages, but with even less success. Suddenly the sound of chanting emerges from all sides. The party start to feel sleepy, but all except Ambar manage to shrug off the enchantment. The horses, however, are not so lucky, and begin to slump to the ground. Gribron is the first to react. He kicks his horse, which jerks awake with a start. However, there is another chanted spell and suddenly the undergrowth reaches round and grabs the horse, holding it fast. “Got you!” says Gribron. He has spotted the creature which cast the last spell. It is a slender, spiny humanoid figure, completely naked but covered in a coating of black pitch. It has a spiky longbow, but no arrows. “There’s one over there,” he says, doing his best to point out the fey to his companions, then casts a spell. There is a loud trumpet blast, and Ambar and her horse start to wake up. “Where is it?” says Caryk. “I can’t see anyone.” “I can,” says Jonathan with a smile. A blast of cold flies from his fingers, and engulfs the pitchling. The creature’s flesh turns to ice, then shatters into a thousand pieces. Five large gourds fly out from the forest, and strike home against the party. The fragile casings shatter, and the projectiles explode into flame. Agatha is struck; Gribron and Caryk are both struck twice. However, all the party can now see the fey who threw them, standing in a rough semicircle in front of out heroes. Ambar retaliates with missiles of force. Agatha uses her eldritch blast, but it does reduced damage. It appears that, like Solsus, these fey are resistant to damage from attacks unless silver weapons are used. Gribron’s horse tries to break free from the entangling vegetation, but to no avail. As is his wont these days, he creates a cloud of noxious black fumes. Three of the fey are caught within it. Two of them are overcome, and can only retreat, coughing and spluttering. Jonathan tries to explode the mind of the fey who resisted the cloud, but the creature is too strong willed to succumb. Caryk moves his horse over to the fey, skilfully guiding it past the clutching branches and brambles. He tries to leap off his mount and attack, but his foot catches in the stirrup and all he can manage is an undignified hop. Gribron is starting to find his situation, atop a burning horse which is entangled by burning vegetation, to be uncomfortable hot. He concentrates for a second, vanishes and re-appears half way up a nearby tree. The three surviving, (non-vomiting) fey continue to rain down fire on the party. Caryk nimbly side steps the missile aimed at him, but cannot avoid being splashed. Agatha and Ambar are both struck. They retaliate with more magic missiles and eldritch blasts. Jonathan finishes off one of their victims with another attack of cold. Caryk, his intended target having been killed by Jonathan, heads over to another one. That particular fey aims a projectile at Gribron, but the mage quickly casts a mind-influencing spell and the fey decides to go for the nearby Caryk instead. However, his indecision costs him dear, and he fluffs the throw badly. Demoralised, the fey turns to run but Caryk quickly cuts him down. The other two fey, presumably still vomiting, have melted back into the forest. The party briefly consider trying to track them by the sound, but decide venturing off the road into the depths of the forest would be foolhardy. They heal their wounds as best they can and carry on towards Lord Dashgoban’s castle. Fortunately, the rest of their journey through the Pitchwood passes without incident. Lord Dashgoban’s castle is situated twenty miles from the Pitchwood, on a stone outcropping. Unusually, no town has grown up alongside the castle. Dashgoban’s cavalry are practising manoeuvres in the surrounding fields, but when the party arrive they stop, and greet them enthusiastically. It is clear they are eager for battle. The party are shown into the castle, and Lord Dashgoban greets them warmly. Somewhat to the party’s surprise, he turns out to be a dwarf. “My proxy was very impressed by the extremely articulate and convincing speech Balan gave at the audience with the King,” he says. “His words have spread among my men, and all of them are eager to foil the evil schemes of the Rasgesians. They’d ride off now if they could. “I, on the other hand, must be a touch more pragmatic. Do you have any actual evidence that the Ragesians intend to do us harm?” The party show him the documents they retrieved from Outpost Six. “Evidence I need and evidence I have!” bellows Lord Dashgoban. “I can lend Lord Gallo one thousand horse and two thousand foot. Join me in a toast to victory, and please accept my hospitality for the night. [B]Scene 4 – Timor[/B] [I]February 20th, 8 am[/I] The party set off early towards Timor. As they leave they see signs that Lord Dashgoban’s army is preparing to break camp and head for Gallo. Soon afterwards, they arrive at Pitchwood Burg. They ask to see the head of the town, and are brought before Father Albert, an old priest. Jinis, as the only trained diplomat in the group, does the talking. Father Albert is initially unreceptive to the idea of sacrificing the pitch harvest. However, the promise of compensation from Lord Gallo of a thousand pieces of gold, coupled with the party’s assurances that Lord Dashgoban also favours the plan – something of a white lie, although they are sure the dwarf would have approved of the plan had they thought to mention it to him – soon brings him round. Then it is time to head on to Timor, and the party have to decide on a route. It turns out that some of them are less than keen on the idea of a long climb up the steep Glaskeel cliffs, so they decide to take the road. If King Steppengard’s forces have indeed set up a blockade, then they’ll simply smash their way through it. This is a situation in which Solsus would have proved very useful, but Agatha offers to take over the scouting duties in his absence. Her abilities are growing, and now include the power of flight. Gribron uses his invisibility spell to make her disappear from view, and she flies off ahead of the group. The road to Lady Timor winds its way ever upwards. In many places, stone bridges cross deep gorges. At one such bridge, Agatha spots a group of horsemen hiding in a copse of trees at the far end. She returns to the party, and tells them what she has seen. Gribron comes up with a plan. He casts a spell enabling him to levitate, and Caryk ropes him to his horse, which can then pull him along whilst he is up in the air. Gribron then makes himself and Jonathan invisible, and creates an illusion of himself and the two other invisible party members. He sets the illusion marching along the road. The real Caryk and Ambar walk alongside their illusionary companions. Once the illusion rounds the bend before the bridge they are spotted by the horsemen. Seven men wearing the uniforms of King Steppengard’s army ride out from the copse of trees and confront the group. “Stop and identify yourselves!” demands the leader. “No thanks,” replies Jonathan, and unleashes a blast of fire far greater in area than anything the party have seen before. The hapless soldiers are caught completely unprepared, and all seven perish in the flames. The dying screams of men and horses echo through the hills. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” says Jonathan. “Usually at least one of you would be within the area of effect, and I’ve had to do my best to resist the temptation.” The party head across the bridge, eager to see if the bodies have anything worth looting. Suddenly a large, long limbed creature clambers up from underneath the bridge. It is sinuous, but very strong, and its hands end in razor sharp claws. It aims a lazy blow at Caryk which would have done serious damage had it connected, but the tortle manages to duck out of the way in the nick of time. “Troll!” screams Jonathan. “Use fire and acid!” “Okay,” replies Gribron, and two beams of flame erupt from his hand. One misses, but the other strikes true – and has no effect whatsoever. “Fire didn’t work,” says Gribron in dismay. Jonathan hits the troll with a bolt of cold, and Agatha follows up with an eldritch blast. Meanwhile Ambar and Caryk take on the troll in hand to hand. They all do damage, but the troll’s wounds start to close again of their own accord. The beast tries to rip of Jonathan’s head, but misses. Gribron uses his nauseating cloud, but trolls have strong stomachs and the creature is unaffected. However, the combined efforts of the rest of the party manage to inflict wounds faster than the troll can heal them, and the creature collapses to the ground. “Quick,” says Jonathan. “Roll it off the bridge into the gorge before it recovers.” “Wait!” says Gribron. “It has a couple of potion bottles in its belt. They might be worth something.” Whilst Agatha keeps blasting the prone troll, Gribron nimbly takes the potions. Then he, Jonathan and Caryk roll the troll off the bridge and into the gorge below. “Do you think that will kill it?” asks Caryk. “Who cares!” says Gribron. “Let’s get out of here.” Soon afterwards, the party arrive at Lady Timor’s castle, and are granted an audience. “I have heard of you,” she says by way of introduction. “Rumour has it you were responsible for putting out the fire in the Forest of Innenotdar.” “That is correct,” says Jonathan. “The forest was possessed by a powerful fire spirit, and it seemed to us that the only way to save the fey of the forest was to defeat the spirit. This had the effect of putting out the fire.” “We did what we thought was right,” says Caryk. “None of us were sure what the consequences would be, but it had to be attempted.” “I won’t pretend to be pleased,” said Lady Timor. “The Ragesians are making slow and steady inroads into Gate Pass, and if the city was to fall they will have a clear run through the forest into my lands. “However, I appreciate your honesty, and Balan’s speech has convinced me that the Ragesians must be opposed. I will commit the following forces to Lord Gallo’s cause – fifty mages, eight hundred infantry, two hundred cavalry and one of my elemental allies.” The party’s mission has been a resounding success. [/QUOTE]
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