Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="VicsHacienda" data-source="post: 9669654" data-attributes="member: 6965574"><h2>Been over a month so quite some catch-up...</h2><h3>The Jolly Gallo Brigade</h3>"Hi ho, Knights of Gallo," says Trevor. "Had you come earlier, we might have seen your mettle. As it is, I'm sure we would settle with an escort." He winds up his whip, noticing Fafnir blithely skinning the worgs, elbow deep in gore. "Say, Knights of Gallo Commander Heritage, it's frosty. You wouldn't happen to have some brandy like those big furry dogs. You know, to take the bite off the chill. How did you know to come for us here?""Ho ho! You must be Trevor! I do have a flask of my famous Peppermint Peach Schnapps for you. Ho, ho! M'lord Gallo received a message stating that your group had left heading north. He is anxious to hear from you directly about what's happening in the capital."After sharing some warm quaffs from the flask, we move north. We stop at towns which are quiet, their citizens nervous, having heard rumors that Steppengard believes Duke Gallo a traitor. Commander Hertiage speaks to the towns' leaders and priests, telling them to prepare their people for war, and to be ready to send troops to aid Gallo's Fend.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdrnAuAFIXFno9i-q3Gba2YnyHkk5Odxqoel7ctPAuDIkdFHUIuKuN2vYpFyyAoinpODHsIc2Wi8H5rquXD4bQ8DT7ZjMYkqY8TTpLCQ5LbwiqrhnOHEn4TAKx4xV5S0RQFVaOz7A?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Similar to Bresk, the city of Gallo's Fend is walled, built into a rocky rise of land with a river on one side. However the defenses are much more substantial here, since this is the most obvious route of approach into Dassen from the north. Gallo and his ancestors have defended against the Ragesians and others for hundreds of years, watching the Alydi Gap, a low pass through the Otdar mountains broad enough for an army to march in force. Other routes through the mountains are narrower, more easily defended by the numerous independent Dwarven lords who serve Dassen faithfully, but the Aldyi Gap is Dassen's most vulnerable point, so Gallo's Fend acts as a sturdy shield.I like it. It reminds me of Gate Pass.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdKow1nujw5Q6AKjSZzpwkXAxmuTA8gCRfPs63K6EQW7wmRcGCvuqZtZBSiNGDTWICkAhnSf8XlTpTRakkK57HS9xa2o49jzBAU-PC1Km4nNwjevAg5UYCOF0s46WBs94otHGhnbw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />We are met by Duke Gallo and his entourage at the heavily fortified gates of the castle. He shakes our hands. "I am Michael Gallo."We let Osnald speak first. "Oh, great Duke of Gallo. I am your humble servant, Osnald Swiftwillow, and proud to introduce my companions."The Duke introduces his entourage, including Roger, who will help us with preparations. We explain the situation. They agree that Leska is a tricky one, and that it is good news we met with all the proxies. We tell him of the slain proxy of Dene, and of the secret police."I have heard dark things about this Glibglammer person," the Duke says. We wonder if this strife between nations will lead to a civil war. "I sympathize with the king, for who would be able to act when their family is lost? I am here to defend the pass against all invaders." He asks that we let Roger escort us to a small manor house, where we are welcome to stay. He will follow up in the morning.We pass through the city/fortress, seeing windows like arrow slits, people preparing, resolute but not panicked, accepting of upcoming conflict. This city seems more serious-minded than Gate Pass.We ask Roger about the city's supplies, its foodstuffs and healing supplies. They are well-stocked."What of the magical contingent?" I ask. "They used dragons against us at Gate Pass."Roger nods, indicating large ballistae and stabled griffons. "An enemy that reaches the riverbank will be hit by catapults and face hundred-foot cliffs and stone walls."<h3>All Manor of Things</h3>The manor is one of the largest houses I have ever seen, all stone and fountains and statues and wide sweeping staircases and red carpet. Roger indicates that many families try to house refugees, including this structure, but that he can vouch for their integrity.As lunch is being served, we seat ourselves at the massive table, longer than a boat. We meet Ashley Mournhell, a dour-looking, tattooed man. Fafnir asks what brings him here."I am from Gate Pass. I got this scar when our homes were burned, in the first district. We fled, and came here. I hear the fight against the Ragesians continues here, and I will lend my sword. I am a distant relative of the mayor."<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXeUiBr3adtSitWxOl2Edw3Y3XD8P9CRPJTD6j96aTMbuariIRjo2pyH8WsmAeCDybFE_AqlXlYNHwqakcgkr_qIUCFDJe-ZqhqVG_q94btolnNtxu3q_dl8xmyoPG_ov3Vm0HjK?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Fafnir greets him enthusiastically, then asks the young woman next to him."My name is Cordelia Terryn," she says in a quiet voice. "I am from Ragesia originally. My husband practiced the arcane arts, and they took him away. I fled south."<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXevNJjxVDv4eqtvN_qbeYFxI3lnJfKTvpu_AfmLiq4XLpwE3dv3zx3gBsoLcWB3r5YHejOfwRn6YLh-jh0pK14j9r3FOXFiie7GVQVlhNRl0E2-ymKcTXkyiP88rJIaFFrRJ6JJMg?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Viggo moves to the study to discuss intellectual things with a healer, Hart Portman, and an elderly lady named Valnis White. They talk of the books as he browses the shelves.The next day at dawn, Gallo summons us to his war room in the castle. "I thank you for the news you brought, and for helping to contact Jinis. Here is a small token of my gratitude." He holds a sack, which Osnald accepts. "Here we stand. Steppengard marches on us with an army of ten thousand, taking the frozen river northward. I'm sure you know one needs an attacking force thrice its size to take this city. The problem is Ragesia from the other side, at forty thousand strong. The only thing holding them back is the pending thaw. Steppengard makes it easier for them."My commander recommends we fight. It will be a week before Steppengard arrives. Iz, Namin, and Megadon are supporting him. I must convince my neighbors, Timor and Dashgoban, to side with us. I need proof of Ragesia's intentions. Across the river is the Alydi Gap. They will come down that way to attack Dassen, to silence the outpost and keep their troop movement secret. Our sending spells to the outpost have failed. I need to confirm my suspicions. A group must ride to the outpost, bring back that proof, and then to Dashgoban to present the findings."That is something we can do, so we agree."Commander Hertiage will join you. The troops at the outpost know him."<h3>Deeper into the Oncoming Threat</h3>We arrange cold-weather gear, arrows, and potions, while Osnald buys clothes of mending. I shake my head, but I suppose clothes that mend themselves are useful.We cross the river by midmorning, nearing the border of Ragesia. The weather remains cold. We move quickly, and make it to the first outpost, spying it out. Gallo has not used sending to alert the outposts, to prevent Ragesians from learning of our mission. The forts are meant to have a chaplain and eight soldiers. The lookouts are surprised to see us, but offer warm drink and food. We travel throughout the day to reach the sixth outpost, which has not responded.The farthest, situated on a rocky spur high above, is reached by switchbacks. The bottom of the mountain path is surrounded by forest at the base of the plateau. We dismount and lead our horses up.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXcALnhaDy-KbmNougI3aU6BM-JYI9SUsQReT4_vo7PFap06Nkgrg-lOVYPPBPRSRZyaUzvxji9i1NaC_I62_l_H640VPIBJ7SWvlaX5mJc3r-tdJgqXL_LMH8TKDzUvOj97uRFZng?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />We hear snarling and crunching noises ahead. We sneak ahead while Viggo sends his owl to investigate. We see large, odd insectoid creatures feasting on poor soldiers.Trevor and I move silently up behind the massive boles of the trees. It seems the creatures are scavenging, as the bodies seem to have been killed by other means, perhaps a great fall. One of the beasts sniffs around. Hertiage and Fafnir move up as quietly as their armor allows. I feel the lightness of a Nuada bless upon me.Deciding that we don't want to make enough noise to alert whoever is hiding in the outpost, Trevor steals forward to strike at the nearest creature with his shortsword, following up with the Living Blade, now in the shape of a scimitar. I send an arrow deep into its armor, while a second shaft bounces away. Osnald casts hypnotic pattern on the beast higher on the ridge.The beast before Trevor claws and grapples at him, and its mandibles clack down, tearing at him. Osnald tries silvery barbs to prevent the monster's venom from coursing through Trevor, and succeeds. The jaws snap on empty air.Hertiage stamps up the ridge to face the wounded creature. Fafnir raises a finger and spears it with a guiding bolt.Viggo has his owl flying to the outpost, and is concentrating on what it sees. He sees the door has taken damage and is repaired, and much blood on the ground. It is otherwise shuttered and still, with smoking trickling from its chimney.Trevor, pinned by claws, takes advantage of the creature's dazed state, piercing it with steel and wood. It chitters and dies.While the other insectoid monster is staring at nothing from Osnald's hypnotic pattern, we close around it, preparing to strike it down.Trevor stabs the drooling creature with wood, following with swipes from his sword and lash from the Aquiline Heart, and we unleash steel in response. I send a trio of arrows at it. Hertiage swings his battleaxe, unable to pierce its thick armor. Shaking its head of blood, it claws and bites Trevor, grappling him in return. Fafnir's hammer thumps it.However, Viggo, via his owl's eyes, is distracted by something, watching us from the trees. It seems like a sinewy feminine creature of wood and leaf.Trevor pierces it again, extracting itself from its jaws. "And I thought they smelled terrible... on the inside!"Hertiage slaps him on the back. "I've rarely seen that kind of bravery from a man! With those tiny little weapons!"<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXcOv1xjoEP6yikBhptICwrDrzRiYWe8FWxg7yvigdEVBW_JTJzdyWEVE3B2EHaHycS4USyhMCSkB8uiSNrO2cuVddha9rGEc6LtjRsZX6dF1I3b3cB3wlpcsVGuThjxovsGCOhSHw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />I try to spy out the hiding female-presenting creature, but don't see it. I examine the dead guards to discern whether they were from Gallo, which they are. Fafnir believes it a dryad, and also perhaps a dryad witch.Trevor steps forward, speaking in Sylvan. She cautiously steps forward, speaking his name. He asks how the men died. She says they were killed by humans from the north, with strong magics. I look more closely at the corpses. Aside from impact, they seem to have suffered cuts, perhaps from blades. Trevor assures her that we are here to prevent more slaughter. She wishes us fortune.<h3>The Frozen Summit</h3>[Sorry, I did not like the encounter as provided in the original module so I swapped it out with <a href="https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/508631/cavern-crawl-067-iceforge-citadel-5e" target="_blank">another encounter</a> and integrated it. ]We labor up the mountain until we reach a ledge. A wall of solid ice, carved with intricate runes, blocks our way, offering no protection from the biting wind. The symbols hum faintly, and coldness radiates from the gate. In the center, a large indentation shaped like a handprint glows with soft blue light. Viggo peers at it, determining that one must speak words in the Giant tongue to open it.Fafnir comes up with the idea of having Osnald cast sending to ask his library. Trevor considers trying to melt or shatter the ice, which does not seem overly thick. Fafnir, pleased with the idea of being able to smash something with pure force, steps up to the wall with Einherjar in hand. He takes some minutes to cast silence to mask our presence, then spits on his hands. The hammerhead slams silently into the wall.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXfkLevI8FqIrufDIZliOkXgxWaId6uDng7sm3Wp7JTqqXONwvgZnhenXHUkpRYaaAytJkE13fsZOzju1n73Nh2c7teAad88vJl4FEXcY0tAqMrbXOKBMTan78msriOOO96REv3ALw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />The ice crumbles, and we see the interior. A vast chamber is dominated by a massive forge, which glows with a cold, blue flame. Rows of frost-covered constructs stand dormant, their forms glinting ominously in the dim light. The air hums with arcane energy, and the ground beneath us is slick with frost. Towering armored zombies stumble within, accompanied by Ragesian soldiers.I send two arrows deep into the rotted belly of one of the ogres. Osnald casts hypnotic pattern into the room, filling it with color for a moment. It does not seem to affect the ogres, but one of the soldiers stops and stares, incapacitated. Fafnir barges in, dropping the silence in favor of snorting spiritual guardians, and bashes a soldier.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXcClYnLsCe83CreWfRpJmjgNTWyXiMetVKbtMBTCpknwpR2DZKj3NP3miSJ8ONwhfXVSNoQ1GpQqrjypoEn9H6I1DdW3p6EGTzVfodz_w8JLCysQEeFMqI6FiQTucw6J7KybMMs3A?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />The ogre zombie I shot lurches forward into the guardians, which tear at it. Undaunted, it swings a huge morningstar at Fafnir, missing, and steps away, not liking the spirits. A Ragesian swings a battleaxe at the cleric, suffering under the bulls' horns, and misses. The other ogre zombie stomps forward from the wall to attack Fafnir, likewise receiving punishment from the guardians, and its morningstar thumps into the ground.A half-orc Ragesian spins into view, and Trevor tries to wrap his whip around him. The soldier gets in our faces and raises his axe to strike. Viggo suggests that he flee the scene, and the soldier freezes. Trevor slips past to get behind the massive zombies. Suddenly two of the constructs against the wall creak alive. Trevor sees them but whips the zombie anyway, then strikes at the other, yanking to try to trip it. I snap two arrows into the other zombie, watching them sink deep, but it remains standing. These things are large sacks of unlife.A suit of armor steps away from the wall to slam into Fafnir, knocking him sideways, but his spirit guardians stay. Osnald hurls his magical dagger at a zombie.Fafnir wisely stands his ground in a defensive position, bringing forth his spiritual weapon. A Ragesian shrugs off the radiant damage and swings at him, missing. His companion is less lucky, as the spirit guardians batter him to death. They turn their anger upon the first ogre zombie, and it falls. The other zombie, still standing, swings over Fafnir's head.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXcsQdr0oFfvoMHdLYNWdLBKwFsYjnxMHSHp0aRq8aOcyyoWkFkSV95Kir0xmDJzSgCWIWTqxsru3DpMihHtm1_GVVoy55-9ODz4iMhWJcbn-22CrMXkc9Zw7DUkO8o1Bu7NEzUHDw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Another suit moves forward behind Trevor, hammering him. Viggo casts scorching rays at it in response.<h3>Ragesian Bastards and Frost Creature Bastards</h3>"Fuckin' hell," Trevor responds, slashing with the LIving Blade and his shortsword against the armor, knocking off various metallic parts. It clanks to the cold floor.Not to be outdone, I shoot through the zombie ogre's spine. It curls backward and crashes to the floor where Trevor had been standing. It reveals another suit of armor behind, and I send another arrow through its empty faceplate. It is pinned to the wall.Osnald viciously mocks one of the soldiers, and Fafnir lumbers into the next room. Its icy walls depict frost giants and their empire. Statues of them line the room. A rhythmic pounding can be heard. Fafnir's bull angels are suddenly dispelled, and a pair of Ragesian infiltrators leap from hiding, peppering him with blades and arrows and spilling half-Orc blood. He summons the spirit guardians again, because the Nuadan bulls cannot be denied. The Ragesian he leaves behind is mauled and trampled by celestial hooves.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXcl16nkcG06n1l7OObIlV6ppQhJCNI5uoeHaHdeHRZvvHFGrBq5eCrMkutQ6zkxrBv0sPMk7gRuU5WvNXbhms3b8jGGKYTFIhT_objGpuNUNCMPpompFcFEy4xrwQkwnUs0cGu2?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Hertiage runs into the second room, axe raised. "Yaaah!" he yells eloquently.Viggo dashes forth and casts horrid entanglement on one of the Ragesian orcs, who proves to be an inquisitor. She shakes off the effect. Trevor slips past, changing his hunter's mark target, and lashes out at the inquisitor. She proves dexterous and strong, and is difficult to hit. I leap over bodies and send a pair of shafts into her, but she is hardy as well, and stays standing. Fafnir brings his hammer to bear, and she is bloodied by the force of his blow.One infiltrator stabs at Fafnir, but cannot get past his armor. Another gets through, steel biting deep.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdMd5vOtJiw0fGPfokKPeFOyThB3sMw0ip1LibGijNdWpwps9ZxZGBcEhj_Le_xyVAJrXChb-46Ecq4Poc62yWxzvblEcU3Uvv-L-BF0J54utGV23mwTR9GLlTceoUAwqalliPDQw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Osnald runs in behind us, and gives the inquisitor a vicious mockery, because as a inquisitor she deserves it. "Okay, princess underbite. You've made an enemy of the world-destroying Fafnir!" She does something and counters it, unaffected by his remark. In response she says, "Neska likes my underbite." (Trevor spits.)She grimaces and disengages from the threat of Fafnir, moving away and dashing toward a door to the east. The cleric's guardians batter the infiltrators, and he batters one with his spiritual weapon and his physical one. He then steps away toward the door, letting one of them strike at him, and the rogue does, stabbing him deeply. Fafnir grunts again, which is pretty much the most he will do when severely hurt.A small icy creature flies from the wall, previously hidden by the cold wall. It gibbers at us, then exhales icy breath on Trevor, Osnald, Hertiage, and me. I blink from icicles over my eyelids."Let me at them!" Hertiage barks, and rushes at an inquisitor, swinging his battleaxe.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXesTIxBaTLG6RtUrsoTtoFmmEYMR1yaqSCZkNwrTi_1Jq26eInVEfqUOTMsF3aETGf3LA_vJI0Eh5f2zKMlRdDDh36Dvnbox-Kcuvm7rboMLNe1BzUmqpEHvcZhSkDGo2pdpDnQ?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Another icy devil beastie emerges, flying through Fafnir's celestial bulls. Suddenly a cloud of cold fog fills the room, obscuring everything east of us.Viggo eyes the first ice monster but sends scorching rays at the partially obscured infiltrator. Trevor follows up with slices from his scimitar, slashing through the fog. He then disappears within the gray. I see the infiltrator moving slightly, and step next to the icy fiend, bringing down the rogue with arrows. I wink at the icy beast next to me.The other infiltrator appears from the fog, running past Osnald through the door, not without stabbing at the halfling. Osnald dodges, then dashes into the room behind me. He gives me bardic inspiration, and I feel a little happier.Inside the fog, steel and grunts and steps sound. A crunching sound of a large bootstep is heard. Is there another creature in this room? Did one of the frost giant statues wake up?The icy little fiend did not like my wink, and moves around me, slashing with its tiny claws."I can't see a damn thing in here!" calls Hertiage. He bursts from the cloud between the infiltrator and the fiend, and swings at the former. "Oh ho! Feel the icy death of my blade!"<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdwsLBJ-Ga7gJTvqqD-GZTUgJ2R8gUw08CTafzmfQjv_inoDVibKvlnG6Qupp0IkklJRSfYu27lQh_DQX3DNgpf9ee8oe9mBVRt_fStpKWcngmm5X-cGgv_oo79l4QxZlYLkWyetg?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Inside the fog cloud, the bulls must have bruised the other ice fiend, because the fog cloud suddenly vanishes. A large frost giant statue lurches in the middle of the room. Beyond, an open door reveals Ragesian soldiers and a room emitting shimmering energy from a crystal.Viggo mind whips the statue guardian. Trevor moves up to the far door. "There's a couple of big ones in here! Ice elementals!" He moves in, whip cracking. I see him yank backward with his signature grappling technique, and the inquisitor is hauled into view, her leg caught. Trevor's scimitar slashes down with finality. "Never say 'Leska' again, bitch." He then unlashes the whip and sends it against the soldier next to him.I shoot the soldier next to Hertiage, but he still stands. He swings at Hertiage, damaging him. The commander falls. The soldier sneers and flees out of the outpost.Osnald casts healing word on the fallen Hertiage, and the dwarf stirs, grumbling. He then mocks the statue, which is affected by the insult. It swings at Fafnir, its mighty fists whirring over his head. The cleric swings at the guardian while his own guardians batter it, then moves to the door, bringing bulls with him.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXcxOacylLI6js27bwqcOsYq-WBYNoOmZik6spB5VouFJ-PzeEUM0sBy0OXPHubSj10tVPHshQVX5OifA_fYJezvyDt29ODhwL93dZ2ipLGLFYD6JwIQXHFKueipsZg_K3sJ4ba9wA?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />In the next room, a frozen behemoth stomps into view, towering over Trevor. It swings massive limbs at him; Osnald hurls a quick silvery barbs to make one of them miss, but the other slams into Trevor, knocking him sideways.Next to the fallen Hertiage, the ice fiend huffs and flees, unable to face my deadly winks. The commander grumbles and quaffs a potion and hauls himself up. "Let me at 'em," he says with the same enthusiasm, and staggers up next to me.Viggo casts a spell at the second ice fiend, to no avail.The soldiers are beaten by bulls, and one dies. The other slashes Trevor with an axe.I can feel the temperature drop from the next room, as something within glows with arcane energy, highlighting Trevor's form as he reenters our room, slashing and stabbing at the giant shield guardian, his boots lending him uncanny speed. Fafnir steps forward to block the door, intending to soak damage. His bulls tear at the Ragesian and the elemental inside. The soldier disengages and retreats backward.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdL2Gpcfw5ycYk1qupTIIVzGNYWv9zPTZzrbeZxIpKy-FmZofUYFYjxpVog3mq18VnK7rPtBxcmvuKmqeOGmkiE3aHHxMeBOX_Ag7E4TrTSz1mmRgZE_HEdLGvHNb2gBDA8FyET?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />I focus fire on the giant armor, one of my arrows bouncing from its steel. We notice with dread that its armor begins mending its dents. The damn thing is fixing itself! It lumbers over to Fafnir and clubs at him with its metal fists, missing. The cleric, surrounded by hulking creatures and his own raging angels, holds his position, and is cracked over the helmet by the ice elemental creature.Hertiage stamps forth and swings at the shield guardian, unable to pierce its armor. Viggo sends a spell past to affect the elemental's mind. Another large elemental steps forward into the angels' radius and slams at the resolutely standing Fafnir. It tries to step away, but the first elemental, affected by Viggo's magic, clobbers it as it passes.Trevor slashes the shield guardian with the Living Scimitar, following up with ineffective stabs from his sword. Frustrated, he heals himself and slides away. I fire again, and again only plant one arrow in it. We keep slogging.Fafnir continues standing in defense, letting his spirit guardians do their work, but takes a second wind to recover his breath. Hertiage connects this time, his axe rending the guardian's armor. Viggo disappears with a puff of fire and teleports into the next room to address the situation, only to be clobbered by an elemental that dislikes the new entrant.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXeHLmJZQLz4W_W6ezXysiwjDt33DpDHaYBoDUqGaU4D9TKt8wEGr2i89XpU3mzIQPo7rCN0C7WAmWSKlDXQkdBP0S1w9O3YRL30XF6KZPXVICtsjoxD1EQ8FbLmqY5BUxok3D4U?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Trevor plunges back into the fray, Living Blade in hand, battering the guardian. I keep missing it, every shot worse than the last, but I feel Fafnir and Nuada supporting me, and I finally send a shaft between the armor. The guardian keeps trying to slam into Fafnir, but the cleric holds fast, bringing his spiritual weapon to bear with a mighty crack on its central eyepiece. The shield guardian finally crumples under its force. Fafnir disappears into the next room.(I nearly whoop aloud, so proud am I of my friend.)The frozen elementals are angry at the celestial bulls and at the presence of non-Ragesians, and slam everywhere, even each other."Arr, let me at them!" shouts Hertiage, running forth to join the battle. His battleaxe strikes true against an elemental. "Once more into the breach!"<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdJOYUdLTVSpnDkavkr3B2kwIUSqp9EB3xqid1-OrIc4VxVmFeuMZxz3oTj-akDIWP29FSeo0t2oBgXQB0rq_Jagkwu43__Ru6ltFGJCLUZCeiTjQYuLhzX6tunQvXswAlA8TNnhg?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Viggo applies his intellect, and with various arcane maneuverings shuts down the crystal and whatever it was doing in the room. The icy elementals defrost and become normal (if you can think of such things as normal) earth elementals. They are still mad, however, and keep swinging.Trevor gapes at the sight. "Wuh! Viggo did something!" and rushes forward as only an eloquent noble can. He strikes at the nearest elemental with wood and steel. I take advantage and advance, planting a foot on the dead guardian, and switch my hunter's mark to the elemental. Two arrows fly, breaking bits of rock from it as they thunk into its bulky body. Fafnir's spiritual weapon slams mightily into its backside. He draws forth the javelin of lightning and sends it through both elementals. The one before us staggers with the javelin planted in its torso, then explodes in a cloud of rock and dust all over Trevor and Hertiage. (Respective responses: "Fuckin' hell, Fafnir!" ... "Ho ho! Let me at 'em!")Hertiage darts out of view, as does Trevor. Viggo casts something which sounds like his mind sliver cantrip. I hear elemental fists swinging and a Dwarven grunt of pain. Wood strikes rock several times. I need to get into this room, full as it is with bodies.I step in and send an arrow into what passes for its brainpan, and it slumps over into a pile of rocks.<h3>Yet Another Room Full of Big Things</h3>Fafnir pulls open a northerly door, revealing more large rocky and metallic things, and quickly tries to shut it. "More big things."The ogre zombie blocking the door slams down into Fafnir, who blocks it. It takes radiant damage for its trouble."Into the breach!" shouts Hertiage, who looks quite hurt and really should not be going into breaches. He drops his shield and swings two-handed. "Come on Fafnir! Come, Trevor!" And with his heartening cry, Trevor slips forward and whips the zombie. Fafnir tolls the dead on it, staggering it.We see an armored orc standing in the room, looking like he is in charge. A towering frost golem crunches forward before him and slams the foolhardy Hertiage senseless to the floor. "Take the outpost, boys! Take...!" he cries weakly as he falls, his axe clattering on the stone.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdaAIVocZKLkENwWjZYzXEs6MaxnvRAD-7-jYOyOWwFyA9XquxXekZw9t5iq8Op5BQLIhzvTMWmnczYWhIxDfcMY3XFiuu5aOrN0ougR8nFMFmgcp-G2B8RfPOyaBq7JLDPjQqnqg?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Viggo casts horrid tangling on the orc, who shrugs it off."Mother of pearl. Fuckin' hell!" Trevor visibly struggles with the decision of whether to try to save the commander, and finally steps forward and plies the wooden scimitar against the zombie ogre, spilling its putrid guts and tearing away its arm. It falls.The orc steps aside and fires at Fafnir, peppering him with shortbow arrows.Deciding I should show him how shooting works, I run up to the zombie's body, switch my hunter's mark again, and send a single arrow into the orc. He looks stunned.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXen22IRR1470DQlEHrbOMCWDvri9AKkUncjRKMZe77W2jSwXhzrfJ0G93KzAWRCHOmglE_Ci7W3a6HEM0YT_Fkr2dVjy3gQBqdwjlrOrbtG9nGWJYro4cgEKGIIc7lno7Qy45FdyQ?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />"You shall not pass," intones the other golem as it strides forward into the spirit guardians and blocks the door. Spikes of ice erupts from the ground around us. Poor Hertiage is speared where he lies. Trevor swears behind me, losing his hunter's mark and his patience.Fafnir says, "We are here in the name of Duke Gallo. You have been controlled by Ragesian scum, keeping you from your service." The golems' eyes flicker momentarily, but seem to remain under the orc's control. Fafnir slams the door closed and sighs. He cures himself somewhat. Trevor downs a potion.Viggo tells us about the golems and their immunities and advantages. They seem resistant to lots of things.<h3>We Have To Grab That Rod... No, Shut Up</h3>While we hold the door closed, we quickly review options. The golems seem to be the original guardians of the outpost, so not our natural enemies. We decide that as much as we must save Hertiage, we need to disarm that half-orc. Osnald goes invisible with the intent of slipping inside, to knock that rod from the half-orc's hand if he can. He makes Trevor vanish as well.I have Trevor take a potion of climbing from my pack so he can move over the golems through the huge door. I then find Osnald, who accidentally brushes my tit to let me know where he is, and cast longstrider on him. I will have a talk with him later when we're safe.The golems pull open the massive doors. They still stand imposingly while the half-orc glares. One steps through before Fafnir and swings at the dodging cleric, missing but getting hammered by his spirit guardians. Hertiage lies bleeding, arms outstretched, revealing a tattoo on his arm that Fafnir recognizes: the same that Colonel Francis Parker, Fafnir's mentor, bears.Viggo attempts to mind sliver the orc, who resists it. I feel Osnald next to me move away, hopefully to slip under the golem's legs. In moments we see Hertiage sputter and stir. Trevor likewise moves away.The orc peers at the fallen Dwarf, and seems to be drawing out a shortbow. I send two longbow arrows past the big golems into his body. "Have at ye. That's how real bows work, ye Ragesian dipshit!"The lead golem pushes past Fafnir into our room, presumably to come at me. Fafnir blocks the door further to prevent the other from entering. The half-orc's eyes glimmer in time with the rod tucked into his plate armor.Hertiage rises. "Aaah, let me at them!" He staggers to his feet, picking up his axe, and hacks at the second golem, who takes additional damage from the bull angels. The construct swings and somehow misses the foolhardy Dwarf. "Come at me, big boy! I like my drinks icy cold!"Viggo jumps perilously between the golems and casts bane on our opponents. The half-orc shoots at Hertiage but the arrow bounces from his armor.Suddenly Trevor appears, hanging onto the wall near the half-orc, and whips downward, attempting to snare the rod. It flips from the armor into his hand. He skitters back along the wall next to a golem, tossing the rod into our room. Fafnir and Viggo grab for it, and the artificer grasps it. The half-orc, startled but resolute, drops his bow and moves forward to Trevor, swinging thrice with his battleaxe in both hands. As the blade slashes Trevor, he simply grins. I fire, sinking an arrow into the half-orc for his trouble.The spirit guardians bash the first golem, which... stands still and does not respond. Can the control of them have changed that fast?Taking that as a cue, Fafnir charges inside, done with dodging and not using his hammer, leaping past both constructs, to get at the half-orc, hitting him two-handed with Einherjar. He surges, and hits him again in the chest, denting the plate armor. He slams the enemy to the ground and pounds the life from him.<h3>Outpost Aftermath</h3>Viggo determines that the magical device in the room connects with the Elemental Plane of Ice. This must not have been an outpost, but some experimental place. Hertiage tells us that this place and the golems were built in service to Gallo, but the frost elements are unrelated, brought by a man named Skjorn, a former colleague of Viggo.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXf6qqrNwAOHhA7lGZdbQHA5zKHtz2_rmJxNJSEIl8YXh0jnUBRy8KblDfAXI6ZSYAJeo5rsgA8YRXo4n_949sNaHKOHEHvN8HiOOLVR0zeOnAluvEie8IF91O_5bjxnKuXkNiZQ?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />We find a note on the half-orc, who is named Commander Jaas: "Take the first outpost, then stay put, receiving supply drops every other day. When we learn of the success or failure of Madness, our weather mage associates will break the winter over the Alydi Gap. When the thaw begins, prepare to take additional outposts." Here, then, is our proof that Ragesia plans to attack and not merely to march peacefully through Dassen.Additionally, we find boots of the winterlands, a ring of cold resistance, and Osnald uncovers a headband of intellect, which we tell him to keep. He’s going to be insufferable now.I begin gathering arrows and clearing out the second room, as it seems the most designed for people to live in. We prepare to rest.Trevor reminds me that the half-orc rogue had managed to slip by us and escape. Tired but resolute, I perk up, yanking two arrows from a corpse. Trevor is wounded but energetic. "Feckin' right, Trevor, we're not finished. Let's go. Let the others set up camp here."Trevor leads me outside and we begin scanning the windswept snow for bootprints. Trevor sees them first. "Fawking hell, he's going back down the path!"We give chase. Trevor keeps his whip coiled around his arm and the Living Blade in hand, and I keep arrow on string, as we dash downward, heads low, slipping on snow and ice and crashing into the rocky cliff face.The rogue is jogging but not running, apparently convinced that we remain occupied in the outpost above."Keep on," I say, skidding to a halt and measuring the wind. Trevor nods."You can do it," he says, then hurtles down the path as quietly as he can.The wind is steady without gusts, wrapping around the mountain like a jealous spouse. The rogue is out of range of hunter's mark. I breathe in, seeing him as a deer within trees.  The first arrow sails to the right, riding the wind, then carves down like a dagger to plunge into the Ragesian's leg. He tumbles forward, keeping his feet, but is spun around by the shaft piercing his thigh. His howl is barely heard.I stand steady, as if getting my sea legs on the edge of the world, and send the second arrow arcing high. It wobbles in the air, losing height, then finds its path and plants itself in the Ragesian's chest. He turns and runs again, slowed by the wounded leg.Trevor, putting on a burst of speed, sails past him with a swipe from the Living Blade, spinning the half-orc again, and wraps his whip around his neck, yanking downward. The half-orc drops and lies still. Trevor makes certain of his death with a well-placed stab, salvages one arrow from him, and begins his trek back up the winding path. I wait for him."Fuckin' hell," he pants, handing the arrow back.I grin. "I'm out of healing potions. I gave them all to Fafnir. But we'll get you some food and rest, hero. Thanks for doing all the work."<h2>Dashing to Dashgoban</h2><img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXdiqrSc26dKUVE-qumhSS4a5Eu9wnzKwGFv0xOxunujjDq8XOlLMj_JpP2c_bNambYmvgqgO-xfA183Tl7odSKsiLdpA5C0LpoT8OsWGd-bSmFfz2Fq7bIAUo5cI-ljzREATy67kg?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Duke Gallo plans to send couriers to Dashgoban, and to Dassen to try reasoning with Steppengard, but says "hope for the best, plan for the worst."He feasts us and introduces us to Makhesson, his envoy, and a courier, Bhedam Buni. We are to accompany him to Dashgoban, then off to meet with Lady Timor. It is suggested we ride south through Pitchwood Forest, as it will cut a day of travel. It is springtime, but still cold.We pause in a small community called Midway. Trevor stays in a jail cell (I don't recall what he did), and we stayed at the Wacky Jester Inn. Osnald performs for some coin, and we stay for free.As we ride through the forest, we are accosted by pitchlings, mischievous fey which are resistant to fire. They are slim and naked except for a coating of black pitch smeared across their bodies.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXfcPtD_MVbaxAtrymn_US9iVmofgTj9uTIfJwRrCVdvfli5bteypqVC2sSHNHnx9oyo1c_DLeUuBjIWIJxwxFVngwvATMNVh8fJtDJrAvTzc_L36Uh0nR_0Ozl1irr3_2eNGrA9?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />"Leave money in sack! Or we burn you!"Trevor offers some gold-leafed paper and other pretty things, and they seem to like the idea. They take one of his proffered sheets and examine it, but surround us. They seem dim-witted. Trevor then tells them of outsiders approaching, and that perhaps they might hinder them? They agree, but want more shiny things in return.One remains, gazing at Trevor's Living Blade. "You recognize it?" asks Trevor. "It's the Living Blade of Innenotdar." The fey seems bewildered, reaching almost reverently to touch. Trevor lets him do so.The fey grabs Trevor's hand, and holds it to his forehead. He takes the gold sheet. "No one shall pass us." He runs off."Your patience is good," grunts Fafnir.At the edge of the Pitchwood in the evening, Bhedam Buni says, "We can stop here. Another twenty miles to Lord Dashgoban's home, or we can try to push on through the night." We choose to rest. I share a midnight watch with Osnald.<h3>My First Doll In Two Decades</h3>After I finish my watch, Trevor notices a straw doll lying next to my bag. He picks it up and looks at it. It seems strangely familiar to me, shaped and dressed like my uncle Gavintar. It bothers me. It couldn't be him.In the morning the doll is still there. Trevor detects magic on it and says it smells of conjuration. Saying nothing and not knowing why, I stuff it in my pack.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXe2TdH87faq5xkgEQRDXBbZKkuAK4U8vqx8DpWReGCauBxFAzspA0e20S9n_ySZp_zXJXQa-bMwDB2G6seqYATF27qaDruWX1vRFu8Ilvv6iQ4DuNwVwLCOfifMhbLPv-_ufhgL?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /><h3>Dashgoban</h3>The old castle of Dashgoban is built from an outcropping of rock, looking like a shadowed monster. Only scattered farms and villages surround it. We are met at its gates by soldiers who ask us our business. Makhesson tells them of our mission from Gallo.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXfVEA2AOg1gpC-TLV_6ZWjvGw5jsgSJmmaV-8HdQQY2aK78bh4nxTRy8qV1-nJgF3GENDI8ZLBmeuSUvicKTlVHI7Kt-mx1pNqCP7wxWoIkr1iewMKO-2Y0ALqhsHpddL0EWJI6Eg?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Lord Dashgoban is a pale, aging Dwarf with a soft-looking beard. He works in his garden, and rises, wiping his hands. "Dahling! How are you?" He looks at Osnald, our most charismatic and brightly dressed individual. "Your outfit is fantastic. I love that for you. But tell me. Why are you here?""We are here to remind your greatness of a commitment to aid the people of Gallo in defending his people, the same as he would come to defend yours," says the bard."Of course. I'd do anything for the old man. But why now?"We tell him of Ragesian advances and Steppengard forces."I received messages from my proxy. We are all ready to aid, but am unsure what Gallo is asking here."Fafnir steps forward. "We believe it urgent that you read this letter, to know of his raided outposts, his murdered troops, and that Ragesians carried this." He hands the orders over.The king's brows furrow. "This is bad. What will you do from here?"We tell him we are for Timor, to remind her of her promise, and that a united front is vital to protect Dassen against Ragesia.He nods. "I am not fan of Steppengard, and if he is too foolish to see that Ragesians cannot be trusted... this proves it.""In the king's defense, he has not seen this letter. We hope that as his forces approach Gallo's Fend, there will be an opportunity to prove the cause.""Are you the darling group they call The Quell? My proxy has told of your good works. I will have a thousand cavalry and two thousand shields ready to march on Gallo's Fend." He looks at his soldiers. "Cosgall, darling! Muster the men!""Beware the Pitchwood Forest," warns Fafnir. "The fey are guarding it, per the bearer of the Living Blade of Innenotdar.""The Lady Timor is a lovely, darling woman. Give her my regards," says the king."You have men that know how to scale these cliffs," says Fafnir."I do. Send for Daloznod Earthcloak. He is a darling, darling Dwarf, and an expert climber. It's quite a trek, and you cannot take your horses. Are you experienced? It is noon now. Will you stay or leave now?"Daloznod appears. "You surely need climber's kits. We will outfit you. We should go up the river, frozen as it is, then scale the Glasskeel cliffs. Don't worry, lads, I've got your back!" And he slaps Fafnir's backside with an overly familiar hand. "I practically grew up on the cliffs!"<h3>Up the Glassteels</h3>[I swapped out the ape for this homebrew creature...and regretted it. My creature had no distance attacks and ended up getting killed before it closed with the party. Still not crazy about the ape though...]Gazing up twenty-five hundred feet at the cliffs gives us pause, though I feel relaxed, almost elated. We are in mountainous terrain now, where I feel most comfortable.Daloznod Earthcloak checks our gear. Fafnir has his Indominability, Trevor his Tide Reaver's Tear, which gets us to the first hundred-foot tier. Trevor misses a handhold and slides down, scraping ice and cursing. His boots help him absorb some of the battering. However, it alerts local beasts to our presence. Detritus can be seen on our ledge, including cattle bones.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXfdtcw9tPLWPWWRN-T6xfirR1W582S4MW_FSKuqs2WjR2l9NWJ_nQ-Rt4C0wW25fFPlRStCvl3Qw8ijFlMPdYeIC_eG2GWsXO_EEb5kHNZLTIyD7S3h_gTj5kVl4E40brnVfKzjAw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Scuttling down toward us is a huge multilegged horror, something between a centipede and a spider. It is higher up the mountain, but is definitely approaching us. I lean back, gauge it to be around four hundred feet away, and send two arrows up to strike it. It has chitinous armor but not too thick to penetrate."An arachnopede!" mutters Daloznod. "Tough shell. Like a spider, it likes wrapping meals in cocoons. It can charge quick, so be ready." I rack my memory. I believe such creatures are immune to poison, have a nasty bite, and can throw webbing.It  begins rappelling down the cliff on strands of the aforementioned webbing, because it wasn't weird and disgusting enough a creature just clambering on a vertical cliff. It leaps across crevasses and slopes. Osnald and Viggo move back against the wall, unable to affect it from so far away.I send two more arrows upward into the creature, almost slipping off the ledge until Osnald lends me some luck, and my arrow ends up planting firmly in its thorax.Trevor, looking for a secure spot, notices what might be a large space on our ledge, perhaps a cave, obstructed by snow. Fafnir sees if he can move some of the snowpack away from it. We will soon determine if it reveals a horde of arachnopede babies or a defensible space. After a moment, movement is detected inside: multiple swarms of critters. Fafnir and Trevor rapidly repack the snow. "Fuckin' hell, what's in there?" (Arachnopede babies, like I said.)Two more arrows. One bounces from its armor. I quickly down my last potion of climbing in case I need a climbing speed. Fafnir upcasts guiding bolt, lighting it up with holy light. Viggo and Trevor plug up the cave wall. Scratching sounds can be heard.It stops to spit a strand of web at Fafnir but does not connect. With Nuada's light guiding me, two more arrows sprout from its insectoid head in response. Viggo mind slivers it. Fanir tolls the dead.The monster flees, disappearing through a crevasse. There goes eight arrows. Angry, I run up the side of the wall, hook my boots in, and with another nudge of Osnald's luck send one last shaft into its thorax. It goes legs-up and flutters down the mountainside.Fafnir chuckles and together we climb down to retrieve arrows and trophies from the creature. Six arrows survived the fall. We laboriously chop off parts and extract the poison glands for Viggo. Fafnir makes a necklace from mandible parts and gives it to me. "For you." "You're such a friend," I reply. After some time we emerge on the first shelf.<h3>More Tea in Timor</h3>We resume climbing while Viggo levitates. Halfway up to the second ledge, I slip. The artificer catches me with feather fall but I take damage. We finally reach the top of the cliff and continue on foot, Lady Timor's castle visible ahead."Who goes there!" comes a voice. Daloznod answers, and a squad of guards brings us to Lady Timor."Welcome, adventurers. Are you those they call The Quell?""We are, my lady," Osnald bows. "We ask for aid on behalf of Gallo. To defend against foes.""Which foes?""The danger is twofold. Steppengard. And Ragesia."<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXcxVTQPkVqnHlkcVJdA70nnU30OxXpt0LSr35puhNblpTXZ68ddG_XnwkNVloRHq65w6PNzrsgdbUJxGZgtRcdekWN58Uo3eyv8IX2iOMv3MCDTGPYlMh7lfheob946me6H3tHPhA?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /><img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXeElFUzRivYG934O_Xvhph96BNJrXzoTEKX08MA6qzTgoGtLpk1sjpEumRYI7p87KTFjGTyXULr68d7kAgcaeSC68epGTpU3zHuxZ5L7APsC-mJ-LVJFw2JJ8cSQbQsLqhJu4NjOA?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />"Steppengard marches on Gallo, accusing it of treason, which is naughty word and bogus," Trevor says."You must be Trevor," Lady Timor muses. "You are a Strathmore, are you not?" He nods. "My family and yours have done business in the past.""Hopefully on good terms, and we hope to be on good terms now. Gallo needs you."She tells us that the Strathmores had once helped banish a demonic cult in nearby mountains. We reiterate that time is of the essence, and show her the proof of Ragesian aggression. She reads it and calls for her advisor. "What think you of this? Is it truthful?"The aged counselor looks at it. Fafnir notices him casting a divination spell over it. "It is indeed a true document, my liege.""We took it from a Ragesian Inquisitor within one of Gallo's outposts.""These are indeed treacherous times, and I am sorrowful that our king is entrenched in poor decisions." She calls on Lord Fen Nirkav, who will send a division of mages, infantry, and cavalry, and Tupof Dzequifs, a xorn ally. "My proxy tells me that you helped promise magical training for Timor. It is a good idea, and we are grateful for it."We are given drinks to warm ourselves, and are asked how we arrived so quickly."We climbed the cliffs," growls Fafnir. "And vanquished an arachnopede.""I presume you prefer not to have to climb down," she says, and offers some of her wizards' spells to fly us down the next day. She puts us up in a well-appointed tower, within which we can see magical light. This place seems to rely on the arcane.The Clever Wolf Inn, within the castle walls, offers relaxation and good food and drink, which we take advantage of. Osnald performs at the inn, giving such a performance that the locals will recall his presence for years to come. We drink and hear rumors.Timor has magical items for sale, and with Trevor's gracious help I purchase a shortsword and a handaxe, feeling more confident in close range combat against such creatures as we've faced lately.<h2>Back Down to Gallo, Threatened</h2>Lady Timor has her bevy of wizards cast fly on us all, and we descend the cliffs. Trevor and Osnald do not like heights, apparently, and had a difficult time keeping the contents of their stomachs inside them. We all, though, feel more experienced and capable with all the adventures we've had.Duke Gallo is excited to hear our news of Timor's aid. "Excellent. We've already had word that Dashgoban's army should arrive at the Fend tomorrow. I've heard that Steppengard has reached the Pitchwood. We have emissaries there hoping to talk him out of this foolishness so we can concentrate on the real threat." We remember the pitchlings, and hope they are not harming them. "I'm unsure why Steppengard has taken so long to get here. Perhaps he was not as ready as we believed them to be. But we have had extra time to prepare."We suspect our meetings with the various proxies had slowed the army's assembly. Duke Gallo also lets us know that he intends to support Seaquen, assuming his armies can survive the vise of Steppengard and Ragesia. We compare notes about the king, his advisor, and the goals of Dassen.Fafnir suggests that if we attend the meeting of the armies in the Pitchwood, we might aid in convincing Steppengard to stop, especially if forces from other lands are present. I'm uncertain what role we should play, but then I'm no good with politics anyway. We also wonder if Nina Glibglammer might attempt a coup with all the armies absent. Perhaps we could contact someone in Bresk for news."One of my hopes was that you might aid us in sabotaging their siege machines inside the Pitchwood," Duke Gallo says. This is something we could do, since the parley is happening now between Steppengard's army and Gallo's representatives. It is two days' ride to the Pitchwood.<h3>Back Down Farther to the Pitchwood, Pitchy</h3>Fleeing lines of people eye us as we ride. A sickly-looking soldier rides up to us. "Where are you going? People are heading to Gallo's Fend for protection. Don't you know there's an army invading from the south?""We're off to try to stop the army," we say, pretending it doesn't sound insane. "Or at least save some lives.""Well, good luck then. The towns south of here are preparing." He moves off with the group.The Pitchwood looms ahead as a wall of green. We break for camp near Middleton as evening approaches; Viggo casts a tiny hut for safety, and sends magical communication to Gallo. The response is that Nina has refused to parley. She's accompanying the army?In the morning, more refugees are seen moving north. We enter the Pitchwood, and are quickly met by one of the pitchling fey."The bearer of the Living Blade! You've returned! We have not forgotten. We are prepared to fight these intruders in our lands.""How can we assist?" asks Trevor. Nearby we see crosscrossing stakes the fey have set up, along with small ballistae that hurl balls of burning tar. Farther down the path are siege engines, dozens of them, pulled by horses and accompanied by mounted Breskian soldiers. We stand atop a long ridge, with openings at either end.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXc7y0w8RH4nRopRP9T1AR2c1-lqugpoekw3mqiipXxgYHoBTM2BJhxQbPP6Ffr9wgaPSiXnjYLtk_54VaWDdalRZF2bL8SCkxl3i-pXzcgFTLTIVTLVuZjzVv73H7YMlMf6zU5Pbw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />I run up to the ballista and introduce myself to Helgoria, the fey manning the device. I cast longstrider on Fafnir and Trevor to speed their way. Osnald gives us a motivational speech, making us feel stronger and luckier. Fafnir casts doom of dancing blades, and copies of Einherjar circle around him. Viggo casts dragon's breath on his owl.Osnald begins the assault with a hypnotic pattern centered on the first catapult, causing confusion among the men and horses.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXd-F1wUxLDaYrsWPMTclrVfSBlmKpXVbtMfWqJHaBBXj0jdiSojOeq_HZ-faCDUwm003_a-Sz8c6juUXKMdh4XVxmRxOlTM_K_7G8Y70D30_tLSgFs8FtSzUi-YLJG57YiGqRZSbw?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />I send two arrows into the hindmost mounted soldier in a white shirt, wounding him through his half plate. Fafnir stomps down the hillside, propelled by longstride, and stops next to a tree, tolling the dead on the wounded horseman. The man seems to cast a healing spell on himself, and pulls his horse among the trees for cover. The other horsemen begin spurring their mounts up the hill toward the edge of the ridge. One pings a crossbow bolt off Fafnir.Another tries to turn the catapult toward us. The fey next to me fires her balllista in response, missing the engine.<img src="https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXfDuPa1hlzhTmEy89jsTjLKNYbIrbxKQhPV2kccFDTdYQJIrupdDd6fGwMmJ67ImivXWavWum4j9qTWAaUSXUYvlNZoLh0zwrEm5axFG5PTwhtHAPyG6UVhIjrOjDgh6KYUWceR?key=jA3QLkk_W2nN52fE-9C4vg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />Trevor leaps from the brush and runs up to the first mounted soldier, swinging the Living Blade with hunter's mark, following with the shortsword, then another slash with the wooden blade.Viggo's owl flies silently over the white-shirted soldier, breathing flame upon him. Viggo adds scorching rays, searing the soldier badly. The man slumps to the ground with a dull clang.A fourth horseman gallops up to Trevor, swinging a battleaxe. Trevor winces, his boots helping to absorb the slashing damage. A fifth rushes up toward Fafnir's tree, a lance spearing toward him but missing.</blockquote>

Verification