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The party begins preparations to further explore their destination as Drew skulks around the fenced in area at the top of the hill. Stealth; Perception 1d20+14=33, 1d20+9=19 Like a cat in the night, Drew climbs the hill undetected. Upon making the crest of the hill, he peers around the corner...

Drew finds a suitable tree and scampers to the top. From on high, the only thing he can make out is that the fence does not completely surround the crest of the hill. The southwest corner of the barrier is a large pile of rubble. After ascertaining as much as he can from the treetop, he closes...

The dwarf nods his head in agreement with his two compatriots but otherwise stays silent. He had said his piece already.

You can use the Knack for Success for Drew's checks. I don't mind some metagaming. If you guys want to talk tactics OOC or similar things, that's fine with me. So Drew sees and knows everything I posted about the other group. The bugbear and duergar group finally move beyond your visual range...

The group is traveling in a generally north direction. So the movement is a long way off to the group's right. I wasn't very clear in describing that. Just goes to show you shouldn't post after being awake for 28 hours straight. As you flit closer to the movement, undetected by even the animals...

Last post I see of yours is the one asking about unconscious characters coming back to 1hp at the end of the encounter.

The dwarf raises his hands slowly, his palms toward the riders to show he holds no weapons. "Easy, lass. No need fer worryin' 'bout us. We jus' be some travel'rs on tha road an' hopin' ta pass through yer little town. Might be spendin' some gold iffen ye offerin' tha opp...oppertu...bah. Iffen...

With the ever so slightly demented bard playing a lilting dirge, the group makes excellent time on the relatively short trek toward the militia's last known location. Two hours into the shortened journey, the group enters a large small forest. The path, beginning to show disuse and lack of...

"With the militia in tow, I shall meet you at the gate near the end of the day," the representative says. The day is bright and unfettered by clouds when the adventurers step from the Hanged Man Tavern. The map shows that the mine appears to have been started atop a relatively low hill within...

Thanks so much. : ) Also, I've put up the adventure thread for those characters involved.

The Mine-Militia Identity Adventure for character levels 1st - 2nd. Player Characters: Sharpe Wellington (Luinnar): Half-elf Bard 1 (Leader) Felix Tertius (twilsemail): Human Slayer 1 (Striker) Mina (pathfinderq1): Eladrin Mage 1 (Controller) Drew Lucan (MetaVoid): Human Monk 1 (Striker) Prime...

Ready to go. "Aye, perhaps it might. 'least we avenged tha poor lad. Bein' a sad fate ta die ta some durned spiders." With Jarro's help, Graval donned the still shining armor, tightening the well-kept leather straps and brushing off the clinging webs. After checking the fit, and with a shift of...

The city's representative sighs quietly. "No, the dwarves have not returned. There is no indication that this errand is anything more than telling a couple of, probably, drunken militia that they must return to their places of duty in the city. You will most likely find them drinking spirits...

"Well, Mina, if you will take a seat next to the rest of your esteemed adventurers, we can get down to the crux of the matter." He motions to the final empty seat. He turns to the group as a whole and begins, "This does not appear to be a disappearance, as Mina so succinctly put it, so much as...

Oh, I'll definitely take it. I love me some dwarf armor. : )

Graval kneels over the husk of the fallen dwarf far longer than necessary to find the heavy plate armor he wears. He studies the corpses' features, as if attempting to discern who he was. After a few minutes time before the fallen dwarf, he shakes his head and stands. "Shame 'bout tha lad. Hope...

pathfinderq1, if you're still interested I'll wait a little longer, otherwise, I'll just go with four PCs and start the adventure tomorrow.

Graval moves around the intervening oak mere moments after seeing Goldenhorn fall to the turf in a enormous heap. With a feral growl of frustration, his axe moves left, cleaving the foul vermin's head from its body, and then right, but the spider leaps the attack that surely would have ended its...

"Welcome then, Tertius." He doesn't shake Felix's hand. "The group is shaping up to be a model of nobility and well-meaning, I am sure. Have a seat with the others." He takes a moment to look over the assembled group of adventurers with a very critical eye and, being full of pomp and...

Graval trundles along, his legs as pistons under his ponderous armor. He had been all but ineffective in this struggle and it appeared he would still remain so for the foreseeable future. "Ye got tha longer legs, treetrunk! Ye better be doin' more than meself, what." He stopped short of the...