Banewarrens d20 (Angelsboi's party)

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FIreworks...ooo the pretty lights.

Bartol woke with a start. Thane was shaking him. Lucky for Thane he had a friendly face, as Bartol was still hopping mad. Bartol charged over to the catapult and began hammering away on the big crossbar with his sword.

Pepto and Eric were standing over the orc leaders bodies. Eric looked a lot worse off. Bernedette was still fighting in the tent with the 2 greased orcs. Thane began trussing up the 2 sleeping orcs near the catapult. Timmay was searching the leaders' tent and bodies for vital information.

Bernedette shrieked and stumbled out of the tent. She had a very large gash across her side. The orcs must have finally shaken off the grease. Eric ran to her aid. Pepto moved over to the catapult and began to analyze its moving parts. Bartol took one last swipe at the wooden bar. He gave up and turned to help Bernedette. Thane headed to help Bernedette also. He used some of his magic to seal her wound.

Eric was the first inside the tent. He only made it thru the flap. He squared off against the 2 orcs. Bernedette had slightly injured one of them. Bartol angry that he couldn't get into the battle chopped a support down and made another entrance. A hackfest ensued. Bernedette occassionally fired a bolt of cold magic into the fracas. Luckily she didn't hit either of her friends. Neither side gained an advantage. Until Bartol's fire died down. He found it harder and harder to swing and move. One of the orcs took this opportunity to score a blow. He added another on the next swing. By now he was the lone enemy. Eric had finished the other one. And Bartol bled. But in true warrior fashion he fought on. The orc payed for the injuries he had delivered. Bartol gutted the orc. He had been a worthy opponent in Bartol's mind.

"Here drink this," Pepto said as she handed Bartol a potion. She had deciphered the catapult and rendered it useless.

Too tired to even think he drained the vial. His body mended.

"Thanks," Bartol smiled. "I owe you when this is done."

Bernedette sent a bolt of magic up into the air. A beautiful blue streak of light. Another appeared a moment later from the other catapult. Amy was headed their way. Timmay and Thane had a small sack of items and coins, but not much else.

"Lets get outta here," Timmay commanded.

 

[diaglo]

TPK?

Valgrim would have been in his element, the light of the day broke across the field. The army from the Dale charged the orc lines. Without artillery support the best the orcs could do was fire what few bows they had.

The party fled the field towards their designated rendevous point. On the way, a familiar figure, the Fat Chautean Cleric, emerged from a large tent in the orc encampment. Most of the orcs were busy moving to the battle front. However, a dozen or so still lingered nearby.

"Let's get him," the group said as one. They were a couple hundred feet away.

Thane tried to hamper the orcs with a spell that caused the grass to sway and grab. It missed its mark. Only 1 of the creatures was stopped. The cleric and those around him started to react. Bartol as he advanced on the camp struck one of the orcs with an arrow. Timmay, Bernedette, Eric, Pepto, and the animals also hurried forward.

Bartol and Eric fired as they advanced. Bernedette did not. And soon she had outdistanced the group. Amy hung on for dear life. Thane, his wolverine, and Timmay hurried to catch her. Pepto had vanished in the tall grass. But her faithful hound gave her away to the party.

The Fat Man and his minions readied themselves. The Fat Man cast a spell. As did another of the orcs. A couple of them drained potions. Six of the orc guards nearby headed out to meet the party. One was still stuck in the grass. And 2 more were reading heavy crossbows.

Bernedette had advanced too far, too fast. The crossbowmen brought her down. Thane was quickly by her side. Timmay's small feet caused him to lag behind. An opportunity to hit the Cleric presented itself and Bartol struck true. But the Fat Man had plenty of padding and power. He quickly silenced Bartol's movement. Bartol just froze mid stride. Eric slung his bow over his shoulder and drew his sword. Pepto resurfaced. She saw Bernedette go down and ran to her side. The hound followed.

An orc in plate mail threatened Thane. He left a nasty gash in the druid. Thane could do nothing to penetrate the armor. Timmay ran to his party's aid as best he could. The Fat Man had a remarkable mace in his hand and joined the melee. Several of the guards also moved into combat with the party. Eric and the wolverine tried to steer the battle away from Bernedette's helpless form. Bartol continued to watch in stasis. Pepto poured her last healing draught down Bernedette's throat. She awoke.

The crossbowmen fired again. Timmay felt it this time. He nearly swooned. So he quickly downed a potion. Timmay had finally reached the combat. The orc spellflinger tossed some sand into the air. Everyone fought off the spells effect. The orc in plate turned his attention on Eric. But Eric's armor was tough. Thane whacked the orc warrior, as did Eric. The Fat Man grazed Eric. The orc guards couldn't hit the wolverine. Bartol still remained frozen. Pepto tumbled into the combat. She struck the warrior in plate. The warrior was very injured. Bernedette tried a spell on the warrior. He was not harmed. The orc stuck in the grass turned and moved further into the area of effect. He intent was not clear. But a tent was in the middle of the area. Perhaps, reinforcements or stronger weapons were inside.

So after the first few moments of combat. The party had slightly injured the Fat Man, badly injured an orc warrior, and bearly injured one of the guards. There were still 10 orc guards, the Fat Man, an Orc Spellcaster, and the orc warrior standing. The party had 1 uninjured Halfling, the animals, a revived Bernedette, a revived Timmay, a wounded Eric, a badly wounded Thane, and a frozen Bartol. And one orc was heading for possible reinforcements. So far all of the party's magic had failed to produce its desired effect.

 

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Victory

The orc warrior moved away from combat and downed a potion. His tribesmen occupied Thane, Pepto, and Eric's attentions. Thane was struck and fell. Timmay's magic caused the proud warrior to cry. The Fat Man also cast a spell. The area around Bernedette was suddenly very quiet. Eric brought one of the orcs to his knees. His follow thru strike was uneffective. Bartol regained the use of his limbs. He quickly fired an arrow into one of the crossbowmen. Although it didn't kill the orc, the impact was enough to cause it to pass out. He advanced and slung his bow. Bernedette, not knowing if she had lost her hearing or was indeed under a spell, closed on the Fat Man. The orc spellflinger was also now in the area of effect. The caster moved to get clear of the spell. Unfortunately, Pepto's dog took a bite out of the caster's hide. Pepto tumbled for a strike on the orc warrior. But his armor protected him from the lady halfling's blade. The orc in the grass was stuck again.

The sobbing orc warrior moved back into the melee. He was almost healthy again. His attack was errant. The crossbowman missed. The remaining orcs ignored Thane and took swings at Pepto, Eric, and wolverine, all for naught. Timmay closed to Thane's side and used another potion. He now had only one left. The Fat Man, feeling the effects of his own magic used against him, struck Bernedette as he fled. Bernedette passed out. He was struck by the halfling as he ran past. The orc spellcaster manuevered defensively enough to hit the dog with a bolt of magic. The dog retaliated. The caster was down. Eric and the wolverine attacked the orc warrior with gusto. But he remained standing. Well long enough for Pepto to finish him. Bartol drew his sword and ran one of the orcs thru on his way after the Fat Man. Amy gave chase. The orc in the grass broke free again. He traveled closer to the tent.


The Fat Man ran past the last orc crossbowman. The crossbowman was reloading his heavy crossbow. The 5 other orc warriors battled fought on. They drew blood from Pepto and Eric, but missed the wolverine. Eric, Thane, Pepto and the wolverine made short work of the orcs. Well Eric mainly, his sword seemed to move almost unhindered thru the orcs armor. Timmay fired a crossbow bolt into the fleeing Fat Man's back. The Chauntean cleric was feeling the effects of his injuries. Amy ran under the crossbowman's legs and closed on the escaping cleric. The Fat Man spun around and flattened the cat with his mace. Bernedette's body shuddered. Bartol lopped the crossbowman's head off just as the orc finished loading his crossbow. The Fat Man and 1 stuck orc were all that remained of the party's opposition. And it looked like the Fat Man would almost be in the clear. Then Pepto's dog appeared. He grabbed the cleric by the throat and ravaged him. That left orc in the grass, he was almost to the tent.

Pepto pulled up short of the flailing grass. She hurled a dagger, but it was too short of the orc. Bartol bent down and picked up the loaded heavy crossbow.

"Surrender," Bartol yelled. No response from the orc. So he fired. Crossbows weren't his thing.

The others began the gruesome task of searching the bodies. Timmay hurried over to Amy. And using the last of the potions revived the cat. A second or two more and she would've been a goner. Bartol flung the useless crossbow and drew his bow. He casually pulled back and let fly and arrow. It caught the orc in the throat as it was opening the tent flap.

 

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Followup

As the last orc fell with Bartol's arrow in his throat, the party moved rapidly to search the orc camp and depart before any reinforcements could arrive.

The large tent was obviously the planning tent for the army's leaders. Besides bedrolls and some personal belongings, it had a map of the area around Peldan's Helm showing the Caves and the disposition of the Orc troops. A chest in one corner was found to be filled with gold and silver coins, a large emerald, a finely crafted necklace, and a vial and collection of exquisite arrows that radiated magic. A spellbook was also found buried at the bottom of one of the packs.

Searching the remaining three tents revealed that one was empty, though a number of orcs had beded down there recently. A second was filled with fine foodstuff, wine, ale, good cheeses, and a cache of arrows, bolts, and normal hand weapons -- not orc make, and likely raided from the Ashabenford supply caravans. The third tent contained two enourmous Worgs that were chained to a great spike set in the ground. Pepto and Thane burned the tent to the ground without a second thought, Worgs and all.

The bodies of the dead yielded additional coins, a number of finely crafted weapons, and some expended potion vials and scrolls. The body of the Fat Bastard yielded other interesting clues: a divine scroll, a ring that radiated magic, and a note.

Timmay read the note aloud:

"Jozam -

Despite the havoc I'm sure you have caused with the grain stores of the Dale, we need a greater distraction to keep the locals busy until our project is complete. I'm sending the orcs with reinforcements to keep Peldan's Helm and the Riders busy for a time until our work is finished. Ensure that fool B'nyaguul holds their attention for at least two tendays before you let his band break up. Make a few examples to keep them in line. I await the report of your success at the caves.

Erlend"

After the signature is a mark which resembled a stylized hand with a fanged mouth in the palm.

 

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And so it goes

As the party finished looting the remains of the orc camp, they could see in the distance the battle being fought in the vale below Peldan's Helm.

The Mistledale militia advanced to meet the orc infantry; spears and shields clashing with orc-wielded swords. Archers on both sides poored arrow after arrow into the closely packed ranks, though the Dalesmen with their advantage in numbers were slowly gaining the upper hand. Suddenly, a horn call range out, and the center of the Dales formation parted, as a company of sixty Riders in black-enameled plate crashed into the center of the orc formation.

With no leadership to steady them -- the great orc leader and his advisors having mysteriously failed to arrive when the battle was joined -- the orcs held briefly, but soon gave way before the Riders' onslaught. The orc horde panicked, broke, and then ran before the onrushing lances of the Riders.

Within minutes it was over, surviving orcs throwing down weapons and running for the woods and freedom. The Riders rode down many, and companies of spearmen and archers captured or killed many of the survivors. By noon no orc could be found on the fields save the bound or the dead.

Two companies of adventurers walked wearily into the army's camp that afternoon, tired, bleeding, but victorious.

Neylessa Shendean met them outside the command tent, a bandage on one arm and a rent in her armor.

"Well met," she said solemnly. "Chauntea be praised; you have succeeded. We began the attack at the second flare, and it was hard fought but swift. The orcs seemed confused, demoralized somehow. Fifty good Dalesmen will not see the sun set this day, but it is a victory. I trust Peldan's Helm will be safe from orcs for a season or more yet."

The companies relate their stories. Neylessa nods, her eyes distant. "You did well to kill their leaders -- likely that made the difference between fifty graves and two hundred. Here is your pay," handing over a heavy bag, " yet we have more to thank you for. Now is not yet the time. We still hunt the stragglers. On the morrow we will police the battlefield and build a pyre for our dead, but the day after we will hold a tournament and a feast to honor our victory. I hope that you will partake in the tourney, and demonstrate your skill of arms, then join me at my table for the feast. There is yet more we could do for your valor."

She waves a farewell. "Your friends in Peldan's Helm have survived. They are thinner, perhaps, but that is easily solved. If you would lead these supply wagons here up to the keep, I'm certain you will be well received. Farewell for now."

The adventurers take their leave, one party silently repairing to a tent to nurse their wounds; the other gathers horses and wagons and leads them across blood-reddened fields to the now-open gates of Peldan's Helm.

Inside the streets are rubble-strewn and fire blackened. The roof of the stable has burned, and here and there is a broken window or shattered doorpost. By and large, however, the keep weathered the storm well.

The populace looks gaunt, but happy to be liberated. There is a "Huzzah" and general acclaim as their heroes led the desperately needed supply wagons into the burned-pout stable yard, and the hungry citizens and remaining guards quickly unload.

"Tha' was a brave bit o' fightin' " says Wilf the taverner, "but we'd o' expected tha' of our heroes. I'd be honored iffn' ye'd stay the week with me, free o' charge. Everyone'll be visitin', wantin' t' here yer stories."

 

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who gets what...

Bartol visited the remains of the common room. The rest of the party was there divving up the loot: 660 sp, 475 gp, 3 vials of alchemist's fire, Golden belt buckle, Ruby pendant, Gold filigreed necklace, An emerald, 3 unidentified potion vials, A divine scroll, An unidentified magic ring, Four unidentified magic arrows, An arcane spellbook, Masterwork Mace with the Master Dwarven Smith's mark (the one the Fat Man used), Masterwork Battle axe, Masterwork Hand Axe, Masterwork Longsword, Suit of normal, and a human-sized Plate Armor.


Bernedette will look to the group. "Is there anyway i could ...use the longsword? I think maybe Corellion would want it that way." Bernedette also made claims to the ring. She had to identify its powers first, though.

Bartol shyly agrees, "Fair enough. You teach me to read and I'll teach you how to swing that small piece of metal proper." Bartol grabbed the arrows.

Timmay tallied the totals. He handed coin to everyone. Bartol gave 30gp of his share to Pepto. Timmay also handed Pepto the fine Hand axe. Timmay held onto the Orc's spellbook.

"Wow, thanks," says Pepto. "My mom always said that when someone does something nice for you you should try to repay them, but most of the time big folks never do. I guess they generally think they can take advantage of us cause we're smaller. I bet those orcs and the fat man learned better, huh?" Scratches the dog under the chin. "That's right, good doggie!"


"Aside from returning the mace to Glen," Timmay began, "and finding out about the potions, I say with sell the rest and split the profits."

Everyone agreed. Bartol was already enjoying his drink. He began asking Wilf about the other residents of the Helm.

Jadaile the captain, Sabine a guard, Charl a guard, Laurl another guard, Tella the stable girl, Ol'Tarlach the fisherman, Quince the tailor, Jocelyn the tanner, Hobbin the carpenter, Asham the cooper, Naramis, their kids, Rafe the Smith, his mother, Dara his wife, the kids, Moseley the Merchant, Mouse the halfling, Brother Martin, Abercrombie the priest, Fitch, Ellier the Advisor
Reese the Jeweler, Reese the Cobbler, and our Lady the Castellan, and Marcus of Tyr.


Charl was killed during the first attack on the gate; Sabine and Fitch were both wounded; Reece the Cobbler had his roof burned; a few other guards got killed, and the smith is low on bolts & arrows, and has a lot of work to do repairing weapons and armor.

Ellier survived. Both Bernedette and Timmay perked up to this news. They left to go find him.

Conversation soon turned to the competition coming up. There were many events scheduled.

Thane believed that the party should all be in the "team competition". He thought they could really compete and do well. And the party would get to use their spells. On the other hand, he wasn't interested in any of the other events. But he might observe and mingle and spend some time off in the woods, meditating and having some discussions with K'shergh, the wolverine.

Pepto pops a zit. "Ooh, my mom always told me that it's better to work together than to always try to do things on your own! I'm in for the team competition."

 

[diaglo]

From Timmay's perspective

As the sounds of battle began to die out, Timmay scanned the corpse-littered field for signs of any remaining threat. With most of his magic spent, the gnome would be resigned to using what cantrips he had left and then his readed crossbow should circumstances require such vulgar means. But the battle was over and won; Jozam's body and those of his orcish retinue were strewn all about and the party reflexively began to search and strip their fallen foes. This was a custom that they'd had great practice in and went swiftly, with Timmay making a thorough catalogue of the coin and items retrieved while Bartol and Erik split the heaviest loads amongst them. Tim cradled the orcish adept's worn tome under his arm as the collected party surveyed the Riders' charge into the distant vale, a great wave that crashed into and consumed the monstrous ranks.

Back in the company of Neylessa that afternoon the party shared their exploits and received the promised bounty before making way to the opened gates of Peldan's Helm. Timmay was glad to see that damage from the siege was minimal and with their supplies delivered the group made way to Wilf's for their well-deserved rest. An impish smile plays upon the gnome's lips as the taverner reminds them of the tales they'll be expected to share. That night as Bernedette busies herself with their newly-acquired spellbook, Tim pores over the remaining resources they'd come by in their expedition and sets about making a fair distribution.

The group agreed to pay Pepto for her services with the fine hand axe recovered from their defeated foes. Bartol would find use for the arrows pending their identification, the scroll and alchemist's fire clearly meant for Thane, and Erik would presumably stake claim over the recovered platemail. Timmay was at first surprised at Bernedette's reluctance to accept the payment offered for her potion, but the motive of her generousity quickly grew clear.

"So far as the ring, we must first determine its properties and who would benefit most by its use." If Bartol would teach Bernedette to use the fine elven blade she desired then that would be of no consequence to Timmay. After all, it would not be Tim's money spent on the potions or scrolls to revive Bernedette when inevitably felled in an attempt at melee.

The next morning Timmay went along with Bernedette into the Helm's inner keep to see Eliar, the elven castellan and, as the jokes went, far more to the human girl. When Bernedette rushed forward to embrace the elder mage Tim somehow found the strength of will not to laugh or grin.

"Timmay Scheppen of the township Glen," he introduced himself, "and a wizard of some circles' worth." Timmay allowed his gaze to wander about the castellan's chamber as he and Bernedette exchanged words. All the while he cradled the thick orcish tome beneath his arm, wondering if the elf would be so generous with him as with the young woman. When finally asked about their business Tim brings his gaze up to bear.

"Your lordship, Bernedette explained to me that you had assisted her in the scribing of a summoning spell. I have in my possession a scroll of illusion, an heirloom, and I am now possessed of the knowledge and inclination to scribe it into my own spellbook. I'm of mind to use this spell to entertain our friends of the Helm and the courageous Riders that have delivered it from danger during the tournament tomorrow. That is my pressing business, as it will take me working throughout the night and morning to have the spell prepared in time. Our adventuring on behalf of the Helm has not afforded me the chance to stock necessary materials, however."

Now Timmay holds up the worn volume that he had entered with.

"But I do not come as a beggar," he continues, now wearing a smile. "We recovered this spellbook from an orcish adept. Bernedette spent some time studying it last night and there might be spells or lore of interest to you within." Timmay casts a sideward glance to Bernedette and then extends the tome towards Eliard. If she had any plans for scribing before the tournament now would be the time and place to announce them.

"Bernedette is right about more trouble. The 'Priest of Chauntea' she speaks of, the fake pilgrim, was indeed a priest but rather one of Bane, so we believe. And he is not the Erlend that I asked you of before." As the gnome speaks he shrugs off his pack and recovers Erlend's note in case Eliar wishes to see. "Jozam, the priest, was instructed to siege Peldan's Helm only as a distraction while Erlend waited at the caves we'd discovered and completed a project. We can assume that word of Jozam's failure has reached Erlend and that he has hastened his plans. There is perhaps a tenday or more before Erlend makes his move.

"Tomorrow should remain a time for celebration, but the days after must be spent in preparation by Peldan's Helm, the Riders, and all good people of the Dale for whatever foulness this Erlend has planned. I have my suspicions that he's in league with the Zhentarim..." Timmay goes on to relate their encounter with the bandits.

"I myself am at the cusp of a breakthrough in my research but require a proper laboratory to finish; mud and rain are not very conductive to our studies," he added with a soft chuckle. "I am sure that each member of my party has their own mind on how to spend this time, but to prepare myself to defend the Helm once again I humbly request your cooperation in this research. I will gladly share with you any progress made and my adventures have afforded me a sum of gold to recompense you for the materials spent, as you see fit."

He drew silent to watch the shrewd elven magus weigh the debts within his mind's eye. When it seemed as though Eliar had gotten a fair grasp of the proposal Timmay added one final afterthought.

"Your patience is admirable but we mustn't forget that Bernedette does not enjoy the elvish luxury of time," speaking of the lost temple. "It is my sincere desire to help her and your people in this quest. When Mistledale sees the end of Erlend's threat I'll give my word to see Bernedette to the temple so that it might be reclaimed for all Corellon's people."

Having played all of his cards Timmay now resigned himself to awaiting Eliar's answer.

 

[Olgar Shiverstone]

Almost up to date! (You could post Eliar's respone to Timmay & Bernadette).

It was quite a fight at the orc encampment. A few well-placed healing potions really turned the tide for the adventurers.

Extra credit for those who identify the palm-with-fanged-mouth!

(snicker - snicker)

 

[Badger]

Could it be...*possible spoiler*

Great tale so far guys...

As for the bonus, could it be Moander???

*hoping I've not ruined it*

Look foward to all the future updates...

Badger

 

[Olgar Shiverstone]

Muahahahaha.