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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 4895793" data-attributes="member: 60965">Session 22, Part 8  Kormak stared up at the massive wooden gates to the city, wondering if their turtle would fit through, and that assuming  they figured out a way to get the doors open in the first place.  Suniel and Keeper approached and joined him staring up at the gate. “Sturdy doors,” Suniel said.  “Figuring out how we're going to get in?” “Yeah.  Too bad we don't have a giant silver ram to travel around in, that would make this problem trivial.” “Being in the innards of a giant mechanical walking goat might not be as pleasant as the turtle though,” Suniel said, a faint smile coming to his lips.  The wizard pulled his cloak closer about him and looked about.  “Seen Harold?” As if on cue, Harold rode into view from around the bend of the city wall.  He rode up and dismounted, his expression grim, a subtle new tear in the side of his cloak and uniform. “Where have you been for the last hour?” Suniel said.  “We've been looking for you, since this place is kind of your area of expertise.” “Get in a fight with the wall?” Kormak quipped, sticking his finger through the tear in the cloak. Harold jerked his cloak away from the dwarf.  “Things are dark as I expected.” Bail walked up with Meepo and gestured to the gate.  “Any idea how we're going to get in?  I could probably climb the wall.” Suniel gestured for silence and nodded to Harold.  “Go on.” “The Walking Plague struck both of the Twin Spires, then quickly spread to the Cities of the Span.  It rapidly kills anyone who it infects, then they rise again from the dead.  There was talk of closing off the Span Wall on the other side of the Span, but the small Scout detachment that's holed up in the North Spire didn't know if it happened in time.  They've been alone here for weeks with no word.” There was a long moment of silence as they digested the information.  “What about the city gates here, can they let us in?” Kormak said. Harold shook his head.  “This city was evacuated when the Plague first hit.  They left a company of Scouts here to keep outsiders from entering the city and spreading the Plague to the Freeholds and to dispatch as many of the risen dead as possible.  Unfortunately, a large and well-organized band of bandits entered the city and began looting it.  The Scout I talked to said it was a week of grim three-way-fighting, thieves versus Scouts versus the dead. “The bandits holed up in a warehouse after a skirmish with the Scout company.  That night, they heard screams all night from the building and they didn't see bandits again after that.  They say that incorporeal undead roam the sewers and haunt the shadows of the day and the whole city at night.  After a couple attacks that wiped out half their remaining numbers, the handful of Scouts that are still alive have pulled back leaving the city to the dead.”  Harold bowed his head and gritted his teeth. “I'm sorry Harold,” Suniel said, laying a comforting hand on the archer's shoulder. Harold brushed it off and took a step away.  “They also spoke of a large creature lurking in the shadows of the gate, waiting to attack anyone who opens it.  It doesn't matter, we're going in anyway.” Kormak and Bail exchanged a glance at Harold's sudden change in taking charge of the group. “How will we get in?” Suniel said. Harold dug into his pack and pulled out a grappling hook and rope.  “One step ahead of you.” “Think you can anchor that from down-” Kormak began. Harold didn't say a word, instead stepping into the air and floating up to the top of the gate. “That's a neat new trick,” Kormak said.  “Now he flies too.” Harold landed on the battlement near one of the gate towers and glanced down. Their was a piercing shriek and a yellow blur shot through out of the tower wall, ghostly clothing and hair trailing behind it as its insubstantial, skeletal hands reached for Harold.</blockquote>

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