WotBS Bonus Time's Burning Sky

[VicsHacienda]

AI.

 

[VicsHacienda]

From the Journal of Fafni Fortsaken. Half Orc cleric of Nuada.
Thump, thump, thump…

My heart is pounding; my blood is boiling. This is why I’m here, this is my true purpose. Tomorrow we launch an attack on King Stephanguards army, more specifically an ambush on his siege battalion.

Thump, thump, thump…

Go the drums of war as our Pitchling allies dance around the fire and rally themselves for battle.

Thump, thump, thump…

Goes my Warhammer as it pounds against my shield; my arms seemingly acting on their own accord to the Pitchling’s rhythmic beats.

I spend the night in revelry with joy in my heart…tomorrow will be a glorious day, tomorrow will be Nuada’s day. As the moon sits high, I make my blessings and pray for strength, courage, glory and victory. For the battle yet to come will just be the first strike in a Civil War that could ultimately decide the fate of the entire continent.



The sun rises, but I have already been up for at least an hour. Our weapons needed sharpening, and our armor needed arctic forest camouflage. I’ve meticulously oiled each leather strap, link of chain, and plate to ensure our movements are effortless and as quiet as a whisper. Hawk is next to rise, followed by Osnauld and Viggo. It is of no surprise to anyone that Trevor is the last to rise.

As we sit quietly eating our breakfast, Osnauld plucks a few cords on his Lute and begins.

I’m not much of a war-ri-or,

and I’m a little bit scared of the battle to come.

But I also know that I’m amongst my friends,

Who will make damn sure the battle is won.

Friends who have Quelled the Regasian mobs,

While the Bitch Queen Leska pouts and sobs.

It is a good song, a strong song, a song that raises our spirits and strengthens our will. We stomp our feet and clap our hands as the verses continue. Small in stature, mighty in spirit is the best way to describe our diminutive brother who leads us to battle with songs of victory.

In the day prior, Pitchiling scouts spotted several columns of troops moving through the forests, but there was only one trail large enough for the siege weapons to traverse. In anticipation of Stephanguards arrival the Pitchlings set up barricades and ballistae. Our plan is to ignite as many of the enemies’ catapults as we can and then withdraw into the forest before their reinforcements can arrive.

As midday approaches Hawk suddenly tenses, she hears them first and then spots them. She mimics the sounds of a raven’s caw and then dashes to our hidden barricade. We all know it won’t be long now. I check the strap on Einharjar one more time and smile at Osnauld. “It’s party time.”

For what seems like an eternity, we watch as the siege engine crews slowly maneuver their catapults up the trail toward our position. We are the last ambush spot along the road and expected to stop siege engines from pushing forward and any blitzing actions by the calvary troops guarding the column.

I can barely contain myself, then the horn finally sounds…To Battle!!!



We move swiftly, blessed with added speed from Hawk’s Longstrider spell. Trevor and I rush from our positions to attract the calvary’s attention. Our distraction works and as they wheel their horses around for a charge, Viggos Owl flanks them with fire. Hawk launches several arrows from the trees sinking them deep into their leader. I take a quick glance at the nearby siege engine crew and notice they’ve been ensorcelled by Osnauld’s Hypnotic Pattern.

I almost feel sorry for these troops but then snap back into ‘Fafnir mode’ as the remaining knights charge. They are no match for us!

I roar, “If this is all that Stephanguard can offer, then Duke Gallo should have no fear!” I begin to laugh as their feeble crossbow bolts and lance attacks bounce off my armor; only resulting in the mildest of scratches. In response to their attacks, I call forth the ‘Battle Bulls of Nuada’ who trample them with glee and send them scattering like rats. As the "knights" flee Trevor whirlwinds through them with multiple Scimitar, Sword and Whip combos; sending more into Nuada's loving embrace.

Okay, so funny side note. And for anyone reading this, not a tactic I would recommend. First off, most warriors try to hide their attack moves. Feint the enemy, use deception to create an opening, throw dirt, hell just about anything to distract their true intentions…well not Trevor. This guy has got "big battle balls". He calls out his moves! He tells his enemy exactly what he’s going to do! “First I’m going to hit you with my Scimitar, then I’m going to stick you with the Living Blade of Indentenor and after that I’m going to whip your ass then throw you to the ground AND stab you some more, you naughty word arse-licker.” I must admit, it’s awesome!

While Trevor and I continue kicking arse up close and personal, Osnauld’s locks down the first Siege Engine crew so Hawk and Viggo can hit everything else. Our ambush was so spectacular that their calvary leader only got to do one thing before he bit it and that was heal himself just long enough for Viggo’s Owl to cook him with fire….hahahaha.

It was not too long after we started that I began to notice several of Stephanguard’s siege engines catching fire. The Pitchlings had done their part; making this look all too easy.

That’s when the gryphons swept in. Caught me completely by surprise. Fortunately, my trusty old shield was in hand to keep me from getting slashed, gashed, gnashed, or whatever the hell it is they do with those talons and beaks. I managed to get a good hit on one of the two as they flew by, but it was Viggo that put the real hurt on. Some new spell he learned in Timor froze those naughty word-nuggets in mid-flight. I turned to see one let out a screeching cry just before it went limp and plummeted into a spiked Pitchling barricade. The one I’d hit also fell out of the sky and was quickly sliced, pierced and whipped to death by Trevor.

Again, more Awesomeness from the Quell and definitely another verse for Osnauld’s song of us.

Evidently, what Stephanguard’s troops lack in skill, they seem to make up for in quantity. Just as those gryphons went down Viggo warned us that reinforcements would soon overwhelm us and the time for our tactical withdraw was nearing. With one catapult down and another in our sights Trevor, Viggo and I decided we had just enough time to disable it, so we charged forward. It was at this point in the fighting that Hawk and Osnauld got separated from the three of us, so I can’t account for their actions, but I’m sure they were just as glorious.

Trevor and I made haste, but Owly beat us there and expertly doused most of the crew and the catapult in flame. As the flames danced across the catapults wooden beams we let out a cheer. Not for the burning catapult, but for what came into view. Our actions had attracted a dragon…a real foe, worthy of song. Now I’m not going to tell you a “fish story” and lie about how large it was, this was just a wyrmling and not much bigger than a mountain lion, but still it was a Red Dragon Wyrmling and it showed no fear as is unleashed a cone of flames that incinerated Viggo’s owl.

Even with the help of Longstrider, I was no match for Trevor’s speed so he was the second to arrive, which may have been a mistake. While singed, the siege engineers became emboldened by the presence of their dragon ally and swarmed Trevor. I watched as blood poured from my friend and gritted my teeth as I leapt from the high embankment into the center of the fray; celestial “Battle Bulls” in tow.

With the battle raging on and Stephanguards reinforcements are on their way, we know we only have a few precious seconds left to spare. I am now in the fray. Taking the brunt of the attack, Trevor has dodged his way to safety. Now it is I that is surrounded but know Viggo is nearby, ready to laydown destruction or cast a spell that will whisk us away if needed.



Though I am face to face with a Red Dragon Wyrmling and an angry crew of siege engineers Nuada is pushing me forward.

Thump, thump, thump…

Is the drumbeat in my head.

Thump, thump, thump….

Fight the dragon till it’s dead.

Thump, thump, thump…

 

[Tolamaker]

These posts are absolutely massive, and I haven't read it all, but I need to comment that the picture of Gallo's Fend is outstanding. Where did you find that? I really wish that I had that when I ran it.

AI.

Actually, it looks like it's a piece called Winter is Coming by LoopyWanderer. Definitely agree it's got a great Fend vibe.

 

[VicsHacienda]

Sorry, yes.

 

[VicsHacienda]

Surrounded by Soldiery​

It is rapidly becoming apparent that we are due to be overwhelmed by incoming troops. The pitchlings keep at their ballistae despite being decimated by griffon attacks. Catapults erupt in flame. Osnald flashes the catapult crew beneath us with another hypnotic pattern, then dashes through the barricade to rejoin our party. I start running as well, telling the pitchlings to flee.

Nuada's Bulls take down another soldier, and Fafnir brings his hammer down on the wyrmling's head, sending a cracking noise across the forest. The reptile collapses, and Fafnir gathers it up in his grip. "Flee now or die!" he roars. Soldiers try to strike him with flails. Arrows sprout from his body, and he keeps on, crashing through foes with a dead dragon over his shoulder. The bulls wink out.

Trevor, wounded, downs a potion, then returns to his assailants, the Aquiline Heart flashing and cracking in the wintry air, and the Living Blade whirring.

One of the commanding officers bellows at his troops to “take out that half-orc!”

"Sure, you can try," says Fafnir. "Viggo! Blast this place! Don't worry about me!"

The soldiers do, and their flails ring on the cleric's armor.

"Fafnir! Duck!" Viggo summons dark magics and brings a rain of bones down upon the bulk of the soldiers, including Fafnir. Howls sound as sharpened bones pierce flesh and earth.

Trevor continues to deal death, while receiving flail blows in return. "How do my spiked balls taste in your mouth, sir!" yells the soldier, which I feel is a little on-the-nose and clumsy for an insult.

Fafnir takes a shortbow arrow in the back, and is bloodied. "Finish him off!" yells the commander. I would love to show him how arrows work from a proper bow, but am hurrying back with Osnald in tow. The bard rushes past me along the top of the ridge, only to be met by a griffon's claws. He ducks and rolls underneath the assault. I rush up and miss terribly with one arrow, almost breaking my bowstring, but follow with another that strikes the creature's wing.

Fafnir, finally damaged enough to notice, drinks his own potion, disengages from his attackers, and stomps up into the trees, chased by shortbow arrows. Trevor downs another soldier with a stab to the gut, turns to the next one and whips him to the ground, and sweeps himself up into the saddle of an abandoned horse. He's really starting to move like a hero, that lad. The soldier rises from the ground, bleeding, only to be met with the whip again. The commander steps up with a flail to strike Trevor, missing.

Two arrows fly past my head from a hopeful soldier below. I have no time to spare for him, so ignore him.

Viggo calls to the pitchlings near him to run, then drops another deadly rain of bones atop the second catapult crew, rendering the earth a graveyard with bones sticking up like crooked headstones. "Viggo, you're awesome!" calls Trevor as the prone soldier by him suddenly rises and smashes with his flail. One of the commanders, bones sprouting from him like a pinpillow, drinks a potion.

"Run, Osnald!" I shout. Osnald dashes down the slope toward Viggo, a griffon claw narrowly missing his head. The other griffon raises its head from devouring a poor pitchling. The bard viciously mocks one of the bone-studded soldiers. "Look at you all bleeding! Is that the first time you've gotten boned?" The soldier gazes at him in confused pain, and promptly dies. Is that the first time Osnald has killed with his words? I’m certain it’s not.

The griffon, irritated at missing the halfling, flies at me instead, tearing a claw into my shoulder, which in turn irritates me. I roll underneath it and snap a shaft into its neck, roll again while hauling out another, and shut its beak with an arrow. It collapses in a noisy heap as I roll out, regain my feet, and run toward Osnald.

Fafnir calls upon the power of Nuada and blinds one of the commanders. He then mounts an unmanned horse, slamming the dragon corpse across the saddle.

The other griffon rises from the barricade and hurtles itself down toward Osnald, slashing and biting with a shriek to no avail. Griffons must love halflings as an appetizer, is my guess.

Trevor, surrounded by soldiers and commanders, dodges strikes, lays about him with steel and wood, slicing the blinded commander. He hauls the horse away, hacking at the ropes connecting it to the burning catapult. The soldier and commander, being feckin' pissants, slice at the horse, which screams but stays on its hooves as Trevor rides away. Viggo responds with another osseous rain of death upon them, tearing their flesh. Only the two commanders remain, groaning under the assault.

Osnald dodges griffon claws and grabs Viggo's outstretched arm, and they vanish in a fiery ring, teleporting elsewhere despite the damage.

My companions safely retreating from the oncoming troops, I feel easier about finding my own path through the Pitchwood. Leaving the angry griffon behind, I use the trees and mountainous terrain as only a ranger can, bending low and hissing in the icy air as I eat up the ground with my longest strides. Soldiers shout behind me, clanking up the ridges in their armor and sending arrows to plink into the snow in my wake. I run along the ridge's edge where the snow is shallow, then cast pass without trace, leaving no tracks. The sounds of battle and burning wood fade.

Defending Middleton​

[This is NOT in WotBS. I added this town as a resting spot when they were fleeing to Gallo's Fend. Now as they retreat from the Pitchwood, it seems like a natural place for something to happen as the people of Gallo flee north to Gallo's fend.]

We rest at Middleton, near the southern border, between Gallo's Fend and the Pitchwood. Other Galloan officials join us as families and wounded soldiers begin to move out of Steppengard's path toward Gallo's Fend. Hertiage is there. Families from Otharil Vale have abandoned their homes, retreating to a tent city between Markhold and Wicked Hill.

We've been asked to escort the last of them, as well as maintain discipline and morale, the latter of which I am unsure I can contribute to. A squad of Dashgoban knights led by Honkurn Lunagrain accompany us, as well as an engineer from Timor, Saskia Gazvoda.

Middleton is a walled town, split by a south-flowing river joining in its center, but not well-defended. We might blow the bridges crossing the water to slow the siege engines. However, there are apparently people remaining here, reluctant to leave. The various engineers and spellcasters discuss how to lay spells and wards and awful things for the Steppengardian army to encounter.

We seem to be planning a town defense, or at least slowing down the advance. Atop the fort's tower stands a pretty young woman, gazing down at the proceedings and waving. The town's mayor says she is Lovro Ceh, an entertainer, and that she and his brother Alex do not wish to leave until everyone is gone. The wave is a gesture to let us know that the army approaches. We're running out of time.

The last wagons pass us into the town, trundling north up its winding streets and exiting through the northeast. We scurry through to the western wooden bridge, with no time to rig the others. I climb a palisade tower with a good view. I can see horse-mounted soldiers entering the gate, disappearing behind the wooden walls. My companions counsel me to wing anyone I can see in the streets, to attract them to us. I plant several arrows between the cracks in the boards, ready to pluck and fire.

Trevor helps a wagon over the wooden bridge. Osnald hands me bardic inspiration. Fafnir looks about, figuring out where to stand, and picks a spot near the stone bridge. Viggo prepares some mighty magics, probably, but not the kind you're thinking, because he's not that kind of wizard.

I spy a soldier between buildings about two hundred feet away, and send two arrows sailing over rooftops to stick in his breastplate. Hopefully that gets their attention. Trevor positions himself near me, behind a low wall. Fafnir roars at a boy to get over the stone bridge.

An armored soldier dashes across between two buildings, and I taunt him. A horseman can be seen behind another building. They are approaching, stealthily if you can believe it. More gather, and I move my sights across the streets, waiting. I can see that they have corralled some villagers in the market square, preventing them from leaving. I can't do anything to help.

I taunt the soldiers some more, hoping they'll do more than peek out from behind buildings. "Come over here, you two halves of a whole idiot. I'll break yer teeth off at the gums." I toss another shaft at a soldier scurrying across, and miss. "That was a shot over yer port bow, ye feckin' turnip."

Below, Trevor works at the pins of the bridge, weakening it. I hear Fafnir tolling the dead over by the stone bridge, so soldiers must be impinging on his freedom over there.

"Come at me, you fat bastards!" calls Hertiage, getting into it. I grin down at him.

 

[VicsHacienda]

Pardon me if I missed it, but did you have an earlier thread that introduced the PCs? If you're just doing this for yourself to keep records, feel free to ignore me.

I'll add some info on the PC's if that helps. This is a simple cut and past I have for them from Obsidian.

Fafnir Fortsaken ​

Fafnir Fortsaken is a broad-shouldered hulk who is quick to laugh. Even though he's a War Cleric of Nuada, Fafnir attempts to settle confrontations with Intimidation/Persuasion before resulting to violence. When he's not spending time on Military patrols, he can be found at a local tavern embellishing stories and laughing over drinks with his friends.
LN 1/2 Orc male Cleric of the War Domain Nuada, Folk Hero Background with a Military connection to Gate's Pass
Str 17, Dex 10, Con 14, Int 8, Wis 14, Cha 12

[We used the Session Zero System at the beginning of the game to develop some background. It's not great but I do reference what the players created to create connections with the PCs.]

Legacy Path: Industry. You grew up in a working merchant family. ranchers on the outskirts of Gate Pass for six generations
Bond Path: Elder. A person of great authority with the ear of many. Colonel Francis Parker has known Fafnir since he was a child.
Catalyst Path: A Dynasty Diminished.
Catalyst Path (pt2): A Hero Emerges risked his life to save a merchant and her family from a warehouse fire

Father Kjell
Speared a ranch hand Edward 'Merciless' Hill in the hand, trying to kill a wild boar
Deep down Fafnir would like to become a hero and warrior of renown in the eyes of his family as well as those of Gate's Pass.
Fafnir dreams of defeating a "bad guy" in honorable solo combat and claiming his helmet so that all will recognize him as an honorable knight and hero of the people...just like in the stories.

​

When endowed by or granted a boon by Indomitability, you gain the following benefits:
You stabilize whenever you are dying at the start of your turn.
You are always under the effect of stand the heat.
You have advantage on Strength checks and saving throws against being pushed, moved, or knocked down.
Has to learn that everyone hurts

 

[VicsHacienda]

Defending Middleton (cont)​

Soldiers try to slip out from behind buildings and cross the wooden bridge, shortbows in hand. One takes an arrow for his trouble. "Come on over the bridge, we're waitin' for you, spinach-eaters," I call. Hertiage almost runs across at them, but remembers that Trevor had been sabotaging the bridge, and stays, dodging from foot to foot in his eagerness.

Trevor speaks with a somber individual standing in a doorway. Apparently he doesn't want to leave, because what's the use? We don't have time to talk him into it.

A soldier shoots at the Dwarven general and misses. Viggo's owl swoops down and breathes fire on a lagging soldier. Wagons continue moving through the winding avenues, trying to reach the northeast gate. Fafnir lends his back to them. I guess when most of them are through, we'll follow.

Some spellcaster appears and casts something on Owlmo, causing Viggo, who had been looking through its eyes, to curse in dismay. The owl vanishes.

Three soldiers appear across the river, with shortbows and a heavy crossbow. I put two arrows in the last. Trevor joins Hertiage in attacking the one who crossed, slashing him through with his shortsword and kicking the body into the river. Trevor then bends to fiddle with the bridge as if to cut it loose. I put an arrow into a soldier for good measure.

Osnald drops a hypnotic pattern on the three across the water; two of them resist the charm effect, and an officer dashes to the bridge, shouting for the others to follow. Trevor whips him, and ducks two flail strikes.

Viggo, seeing soldiers crossing the stone bridge, generates a vicious cone of wind and flame that knocks soldiers over and sets buildings aflame. He joins Osnald by the tree.

Trevor slashes at his assailant but cannot get past his armor. Osnald and Viggo are beset by a wildly flailing Steppengardian. Osnald mocks him. A second likewise fails, but gets in a lucky swipe.

Another soldier dashes across the bridge, only to be felled by Trevor's whip. Hertiage hacks away at the officer, who strikes Trevor with his flail.

Viggo, angered by the loss of his familiar and by the soldiers swinging flails at him and Osnald, blasts another backdraft at them, slamming them dead into a wall. The wizard then moves away, and the bard follows.

A slender woman runs toward the bridge. Some magical effect makes several of her appear in one place. So I shoot the soldier next to her in splint, and he stares down at the two shafts. Trevor yanks at his sabotaged bridge ties, shoving it, then slashes backward at the commander behind him, grappling him. The bridge sags in the middle, dipping into the slow-moving water.

The soldier I shot on the bridge shoots Trevor with his shortbow, then turns and runs. Hertiage slashes at the commander, who finally falls.

Over at the stone bridge, archers in Megadon livery appear. Viggo casts a vast cylinder of searing heat across the square, incinerating them.

The mirrored spellcaster likewise moves eastward, with no bridge to cross. Seeing Osnald across the river, she fires a bolt at him. He responds with silvery barbs, but still reels from whatever effect it had.

I want to shoot her down, but those mirror images will make it difficult. I cast longstrider and jump down to the earth below, running to join Trevor and Hertiage. Trevor coils his whip and runs eastward toward the fiery pillar.

 

[VicsHacienda]

Hawk​

[Our chronicler]

NG Variant Human Female Ranger, Outlander Background
Connection: [[Resistance]]

STR 12 DEX 16 CON 14 INT 10 WIS 14 CHA 8

## Fragments
#### Legacy Path : Heart. You were raised by a found family.
- The [[Nock]] family runs a large livestock ranch south of [[Gate Pass]]; they took her in and raised her.
#### Bond Path: Traitor.
Someone who has turned their back on friend, country, and principle for their own benefit.
- [[Gavintar Nock]]
#### Catalyst Path:
Danger Closes In: Its arrival is sudden and unexpected, catching many off guard.

She mistrusts Elves, having been in skirmishes with [[Shahalesti]] soldiers and knowing that the Elven nation treats humans as second-class citizens.

### Family ###
Parents: [[Dolan]] and [[Yemena Breehill]] Killed by [[Ragesia]] (or hobgoblins and a witch)
Uncle: [[Gavintar Nock]] taught her archery
Adoptive sister: [[Deelie Nock]] hit by dagger thrown by hawk

It is a long-term goal to find a second person who fills a void in Hawk's life.

 

[RangerWickett]

The Nock family, hm?

 

[VicsHacienda]

Keeping It Moving​

Osnald, uncertain whether he can affect the fleeing caster, dashes off eastward around a building, dodging as he goes. The wounded soldier across the river keeps fleeing, but fires at the running halfling with his shortbow. "I can reach ye from here, ye've just signed yer death warrant," I yell.

Hertiage runs off as well, lumbering with axe held high.

Viggo looks back as Osnald takes the arrow, decides between the soldier and the running caster, and casts some terrible skin affliction on the two of them, raising pus-filled infected blisters. The soldier shakes it off, wounded as he is. The caster hurls another bolt at Osnald.

Fuming, I walk forward with my bow turned to the right, aiming across the river. I send an arrow past the soldier, who ducks, and plant a second in his firing shoulder, deep enough to cut an artery. He slumps and rolls down the bank into the water. "I told you, you rodent," I mutter.

Trevor coaxes a citizen from a building, helping her to escape. Osnald turns, wincing, and viciously mocks the caster in a strange arcane language. "You B-word! You C You Next Tuesday!" The caster clutches her blister-covered skull in pain, and chooses to teleport somewhere. She disappears from my view in a fiery burst. I hear Hertiage yelling ahead, of saboteurs under the stone bridge. Viggo places his hand in the cold river and sends energy screaming through it, searing through everyone standing in the water.

The landscape is clear around me, save for the still-confused commander standing across the wooden bridge. I dash up, longstrider propelling me, until I stand next to Osnald. I cure wounds on him. Nearby Trevor grabs an abandoned wagon and hauls it forward on some weird mission of his. He starts striking flame, which answers that question.

Suddenly we hear a series of sickly popping noises, and a bloody, pus-filled noxious mist appears behind a building. Viggo's spell has worsened, and we now know the caster is somewhere on this side of the bank.

Osnald heals himself further.

Across the river, wading through the water within Viggo's pillar of fire, a man casts a necromantic spell, and a dark circle spreads between buildings and around all of us. An awful energy surges through us, feeling like death has gripped our hearts. Next to me Osnald sags, nearly falling.

Fafnir steps forward, snarling words of Nuada, and sends a guiding bolt at the enemy cleric, following it with a hurled javelin of lightning. He leaps forward into the river and swings at the priest, downing him.

"You're lucky he got you, I was gonna!" yells Hertiage.

Viggo brings forth another spell, miring the far side of the bridge with a pit of quicksand. He then squeezes past Trevor.

The blistered caster suddenly appears, running beneath the stone bridge. This seems odd to me, since the bridge has been the most dangerous place to be for some minutes. She casts something, presumably in an attempt to dispel Viggo's glyphs. I set my hunter's mark on her, pop one of her mirror images, and miss with the second shot. Trevor slides down the bank to join me, his whip flashing and his own hunter's mark flickering. The Aquiline Heart wraps around both casters, spinning her about. He draws forth a dagger and throws, missing despite her being grappled.

Osnald grants Trevor a bardic inspiration for his actions, then returns to licking his wounds.

Beneath the bridge, Fafnir grasps the fallen enemy caster in a strong fist to keep him from floating away. He then directs a spiritual weapon against the blistered, grappled, mirrored woman. The last mirror image vanishes. The cleric of Nuada grunts in satisfaction, and drags the body up onto the bank.

"Finish her!" cries Hertiage, running under the bridge and swinging his axe wildly at the woman, managing to miss her both times.

Viggo, looking to do that very thing, electrifies the water again. Her teeth clatter as she shudders, and she sinks beneath the surface, held by Trevor's whip.

No more enemies face us. Viggo's searing sun pillar crackles in the icy air.

We gather townspeople and get them moving across the northwest bridge, just as the long lines of approaching Steppengardian forces appear to the south. We start traveling to Gallo's Fend.