3SC's Ironfang Invasion IC

[3SecondCultist]

For the first time since the battle started, Kergri shows signs of hesitation as she feels the effects Jet's wound. She barely has time to register it, though, as Eyena finally unleashes her magic against the ironclad hobgoblin. As the icy grasp of the spell makes its way over her armor, Kergri gasps in surprise. "<Damned... elf magic...>," is all she can make out, as the frostbite reaches her lips. It's slowed her down enough to set up Rask's blow, which shatters frost, steel, and bone alike in a tremendous display of force. Kergri falls with a thundering crash, defeated at long last.

Even though the battle is all but won, the last soldier remains unabated. The fall of his commander seems to only galvanize him to greater heights of bravery, as he nimbly avoids the worst of Narek's spell and manages to stay on his feet. He runs to he south first, circling around to try and cut off Gilraen and narrow his options for escape. Although Lirosa manages to peg him with an arrow to the back, he all but finishes his work, taking another slice at his target. Gilraen will be hard-pressed to stay on his feet now.

The rest of the civilians and other noncombatants, now fully gathered and seeing that the path is largely clear, start to charge across Phaendar Bridge in droves. Shara and Jet are at the front of the column, the warrior deciding to be prepared for any threats from the forest. A few remain behind besides yourselves: the two half-elves, and Aubrin, who pulls out a potion and administers it to the prone Kining. The dwarf gets up after a moment, looking down at Kegri, then Mortimer. "Bah. I'd say that we couldn't have trusted him to hold his own... but that one hit hard. Shame." Shaking her head, the craftsman starts going through the dead man's belongings in search of the stump remover, which she produces before too long.

"Well then. Still got a bridge to burn, don't we?"

Spoiler: Round 7 OOC

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Updated Map

Not much to report this round, since combat is all but over. Kergri is down for the count now, but you've officially hit the threshold where you will run into reinforcements (assuming I rolled badly). Somebody needs to start implanting the stump remover ASAP, and Gilraen took just 3 damage from the last hobgoblin, who won't surrender without cause.

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin
Narek glanced back at the group as he headed towards the weak spot on the bridge, incredulous that the last hobgoblin continued to fight. "Aubrin, grab Mortimer's gear - he had a healing stick! Rask and Eyena, help Gilraen! Kining, we need you up here!"

Narek continued to advance, but launched another arcane ball towards the last hobgoblin.

Spoiler: OOC

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Yell some orders, magic missile and move... MM Damage - (1d4+1)[4]
Status
AC: 16 HP: 7/7 Init +9 Move 30'
F +0 R +2 W +4
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/18 bolts (10 MW)
Spells: prestidigitation, detect magic, message; grease, mage armor, heightened awareness
Prescience: 4/7; wand of magic missile (2); wand of grease (5); unknown wand (25)
Effect: mage armor (+4 AC, 1 hr); prestidigitation (1hr); +2 to blow bridge; +5 Craft (Alchemy)

[PersonMan]

Eyena moves over to near Aubrin, eyes on the last hobgoblin. She glances over to the fallen one who had once led the others, and then to Aubrin, but says nothing.

Spoiler: Round 7 Actions

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Just move over.

[n0ble]

Rask stopped for a moment to hawk some phlegm onto the corpse he'd just made. And to catch a more breath than he would have liked to admit. Sighing to himself, Rask made his way over to the remaining hob, offering up a silent prayer to whatever god had a stake in his life that he didn't die. Just as he finished it, the big man swung down at the hob that was menacing Gilraen, trying hard not to pass out from the pain in his gut.

Spoiler: OOC

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Move up

Rask squish
To hit (power attacking): (1d20+7)[10]
Damage: (2d6+12)[18]
CC: (1d20+7)[10]


Edit: Boo ya? More like...boo nah.

[Farmerbink]

Pain unlike anything he's experienced floods Gilraen's body. He blinks, shaking his head, struggling to see straight though the sensation robs him of breath, and sends him staggering. He manages to keep his feet, somehow, against all odds. He musters only a single word, "Fangwood..." as he struggles to keep his feet. Some unknown source fuels a subtle infusion of positive energy, and the worst of his wounds suddenly knit shut.

Spoiler: Gilraen, round 7

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Gilraen Súrion
M CG Elf Oracle (warsighted), Level 1, Init 5, HP 5/10, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 13, Flat-footed 13, CMD 15, Fort 2, Ref 3, Will 1, CMB +2, Base Attack Bonus 0
PBS MW composite long bow (42 arrows) +4 (1d8+2, x3 )
quarterstaff +2 (1d6+2, x2)
Studded leather (+3 Armor, +3 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 17, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 13
Condition Charisma to saves vs enchantment
Spells, 1st level: 0/4 remaining (CLW, DF, SoF)
Martial Flexibility: 1/4
MF: rapid shot (4 rounds)
Divine Favor: +1 hit/damage (4 rounds)

5-foot step away?
last spell of the day, a CLW on self (followed by -1 HP for the disabled standard action)
(1d8+1)[6]

Puts him at 5 HP. For now.

[3SecondCultist]

Despite the fact that Kergri lies unconscious, the last remaining Ironfang is not giving up just yet. He definitely sees the various members of your party close in, but Rask and Eyena's wounded conditions means that he doesn't see either of them as much of a threat, and the rest are archers. He grunts in pain as Narek's wand ends up exacerbating the injuries he's sustained from the first arrow, but it doesn't really change his strategy. Aubrin doesn't seem to think he is much of a threat either at first, calling out to the two half-elven hunters who linger behind. "Listen to Narek and head towards the other side of the bridge! Don't worry, these guys are tough: they should have this in hand." Each of them delivers a parting shot before turning to run, but neither land anywhere close to the goblinoid. No sooner are the pair of them away than the hobgoblin recruit goes for an upward slash, opening up the majority of Rask's face. Muttering something about tempting fate, the cleric steps in beside Gilraen, her hands already fumbling at her belt to get a second draught of healing elixir in the fallen half-orc's mouth.

To the west, the villagers have made it across the stone span. Many of them are catching their breath from the vigorous sprint, but Jet and a few of the other warriors are urging the group forward, away from the firelight of burning Phaendar and towards the scrub of the treeline. At the halfway mark to safety, the sight of Kining running desperately for the bridge's ramparts would be a comedic sight, if not for the context in which it is placed. Your fight is sure to have attracted more enemies, and more Ironfang soldiers could be arriving in a matter of moments. The dwarf outpaces the cloaked mage, hauling herself up the stairs and to the edge of the construction. "Come on, wizard, get your àss in gear! I'm going to need help installing this damned thing!" In her sweaty hands, Oreld's concoction is ready for placement. All you'll need to do is actually attach it to one of the ropes and activate the seal, then lower said rope until the payload can be placed in the center of the wooden supports. Of course, it might very well detonate early.

Spoiler: Round 8 OOC

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Updated Map

This one hob is just trucking along! So far he's taken a bit of damage, but since nobody tried to parley with him for surrender, and he's convinced that company is coming, he's going to keep fighting until the bitter end. He actually managed to hit Rask for 2 damage this turn, although Aubrin ended up healing him for 5, putting Rask back into a positive hp total of 4. As he is the only fighter left, rounds are otherwise pretty uneventful. Both of your NPCs in the area missed, and otherwise everyone else is away.

Kining sprinted to the location and will be starting the 3 round setup next round - I will roll for her Knowledge (Engineering) check in secret unless somebody goes to try and Aid her in the effort, which you should all be able to do as most of you have her notes.

[PersonMan]

Eyena exhales slowly, staring over at the movements of the combat. She starts to move forwards, then quickens her pace as Rask falls. Though it's all but inaudible due to the sound of combat, a half-spoken word dies at her lips, and as she arrives at the melee she frowns, coming to a stop at the exact moment she swings with Blütenstaub, the still-shining weapon coming at the last hobgoblin in a sideways arc, carried by her momentum and with magically strengthened force.

Spoiler: Round 8 Actions

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More action this time! Moving and attacking.

A: 20
D: 10

[Farmerbink]

Eyena's arrival and the Hobgoblins subsequent fall evoke almost tangible relief from Gilraen's expression. He steadies himself and begins crossing the bridge, his bow raised to protect the detonation work from any new arrivals.

Spoiler: Gilraen, round 8

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Gilraen Súrion
M CG Elf Oracle (warsighted), Level 1, Init 5, HP 5/10, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 13, Flat-footed 13, CMD 15, Fort 2, Ref 3, Will 1, CMB +2, Base Attack Bonus 0
PBS MW composite long bow (42 arrows) +4 (1d8+2, x3 )
quarterstaff +2 (1d6+2, x2)
Studded leather (+3 Armor, +3 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 17, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 13
Condition Charisma to saves vs enchantment
Spells, 1st level: 0/4 remaining (CLW, DF, SoF)
Martial Flexibility: 1/4
MF: rapid shot (4 rounds)
Divine Favor: +1 hit/damage (4 rounds)

Move ~30 feet east across the bridge.

Ready an action to shoot any new arrivals.
(1d20+4)[21] bow
(1d20+4)[11] CC
(1d8+2)[7] dmg
(2d8+4)[11] crit bonus

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin
Narek snorted as the dwarf lumbered by, speeding up to keep pace. With the last hobgoblin down, he no longer beer needed to support Gilraen and the others - his focus had to be the destruction of the bridge. "It's about time you got here - I thought I'd be waiting on you ..."

Spoiler: OOC

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Ready to aid, then step in as necessary. Narek gathered the notes and copies the plans, so if those help Kining...
Prescience - (1d20)[4]
Aid or Craft - (1d20+11)[29]
Status
AC: 16 HP: 7/7 Init +9 Move 30'
F +0 R +2 W +4
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/18 bolts (10 MW)
Spells: prestidigitation, detect magic, message; grease, mage armor, heightened awareness
Prescience: 3/7; wand of magic missile (2); wand of grease (5); unknown wand (25)
Effect: mage armor (+4 AC, 1 hr); prestidigitation (1hr); +2 to blow bridge; +5 Craft (Alchemy)

[n0ble]

He stood up, nodded at Eneya and then scraped some of the blood off the side of his face. It was time to go. He moved fast as he could towards the bridge, casting a glance at the heavy troopers corpse. Shame to waste that heavy armour.

Spoiler: OOC

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Move Action: Get up
Move acton: Leg to/across the bridge

[3SecondCultist]

With one final effort, Eyena ends the fight. Blütenstaub's edge finds flesh, and the hitherto resilient warrior goes down along with the others. At last, the way ahead of you is clear, but you don't have much time left to spare - more enemies will be here any moment, and if Narek and Kining are successful, your best escape route out of here will be closed. Still, Aubrin wastes no time in hobbling over to Mortimer's body. "May whatever god or power you worshipped look after you and Armina. And thank you, for everything you did for the people of Phaendar." Her expression grim, the priestess produces the healing wand from the dead man's possession. She glances over at Kergri's body, which is still covered in condensation and melting frost. "If anyone wants to go through that one's pockets, now would be a good time. She might have a thing or two we can use on the other side."

At the center of the bridge, the mage and the smith set up the payload. The stump remover is in a large tin, set up to blow on a timed alchemical spark. With Kining overseeing the process, Narek is able to wrap the tin up in some of the lines and readies the bomb to be lowered to the position where it will do the most damage. "Gotta time this right," the blonde dwarf says as she pulls out some flint and steel. "Too late, and we'll have more enemies to deal with. Too early, and... well. The count should be exactly thirty seconds from when I do this." Only once she's absolutely sure that Narek has the proper trajectory does she set the spark. The bomb is live now; if Kining is right, you have less than a minute before Phaendar Bridge becomes naught but rubble and wet kindling.

Spoiler: OOC

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Updated Map

Since there are no more enemies on the battlefield, I think it's safe to say that this combat is over. Moreover, Narek and Kining are successful at setting the charges, which means that they'll be spending the next 3 rounds setting up, and the bridge will blow 2 rounds after that. Everyone who's not Narek has 5 rounds to loot bodies and get over to the other side.

[PersonMan]

Eyena, sheathing Blütenstaub after wiping it clean, nods at what Aubrin says, kneeling down next to the fallen hobgoblin commander and meticulously taking apart her gear, pausing only to occasionally stare down at her hands before nodding and continuing.

Spoiler: OOC

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Taking 10 on a loot Perception to...well, hopefully nothing's hidden, because that's a 9.

[Farmerbink]

Gilraen looks down at the deceased Hobgoblin leader, and back to the duo moving towards the center of the bridge with sombre purpose. "We don't have time for that," he begins. "Here, let me help." Reaching to grasp one of the fallen lieutenant's leg, he looks to Eyena with expectation. "Come on. Let's bring her over there. We'll have a few minutes, perhaps."

He helps pull the corpse to the far side of the bridge, before devoting more detailed attention to removing the well-made breastplate. "No sense letting them get more use out of this gear..."

Spoiler: OOC

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Gilraen has no use for the breastplate or blade, though I suspect other party members will. I think the rest is primarily general party//resistance loot?

[PersonMan]

Eyena nods as Gilraen picks up Kergri's leg, lifting up the rest of her body with one quick motion that causes her to widen her eyes and briefly look down, before looking back up and nodding, following the elf's lead across the bridge.

Spoiler: OOC

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Because that +4 Strength she still has makes a different of 340 pounds of Above Ground!

[n0ble]

Seeing that they had the body well in hand, Rask kept pace with the duo dragging the heavy trooper. It was another pair of free hands if they needed it. Or if more hobs in need of an áss kicking showed up.

Spoiler: OOC

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Here to help if needed!

[3SecondCultist]

With everyone else from your band of followers already on the side of the bridge, all that's left is for you to make it to safety. Carrying Kergri's limp body over to the western landing is easy enough for Eyena with her increased strength, allowing Rask and Gilraen to cover her retreat as Narek and Kining put the final touches on the demolition. When all is said and done, you have just enough time to make it across, and all of you are across and onto safe ground by the time you hear the rumbling. Thankfully, no more Ironfang soldiers arrived on the scene to complicate matters. "She's ready to blow," Kining says as she hikes up to a copse near the treeline to watch. "One hundred years of good stonework and maintenance... and it gets torn down in the course of a few minutes. What a waste."

The ensuing destruction is underwhelming at first. A rumbling noise emanates from the wooden supports beneath the stone masonry, followed by a chorus of slow creaks. For a few seconds, nothing besides that happens. Coils of smoke start to rise from the sides of the arch, signifying that the stump remover at least did its work. Gradually, the rumbling intensifies. There is no great fire, or flash of light - Kining and Narek's work is far too careful for that. Instead, with a terrible crash, the center of Phaendar Bridge starts to fold inwards. The cohesion of the structure has all but given way, the bricks and mortar collapsing under the now obliterated system of support beams. Soon, everything but the two ends of the bridge has tumbled town into the raging rapids of the Marideth below.

Near the edge of the Fangwood, Jet and Aubrin are helping some of the weaker and younger find their way into the trees. There are those, however, who look back. A ceiling of smoke hangs over Phaendar's silhouette, reflecting the orange glow from burning houses. Ash drifts in the air like falling snow. The screams of townsfolk have died away, leaving an eerie silence broken now and then by the howling of wolves or the harsh tones of the goblin tongue. You can see the shapes of the enemy moving along the other bank of the river, although none of them seem to notice your band moving into the woods. Bodies lie in the streets, sprawled in pools of blood where they fell. There are friends, family members, and valued allies among them. It seems everyone else in town may be imprisoned or dead except for the hobgoblin invaders.

Phaendar has fallen.

Spoiler: OOC

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Okay, that's a wrap on Part 1 of the first volume! I'm going to give your characters a chance to react / post leading the people into the woods, which will lead us into Part 2. Also, feel free to level up your characters to 2nd level now! I know it's not really a triumphant 'ding' moment, but the Fall of Phaendar is going to be a pretty formative moment for most of the campaign, so it's worth stewing over a little bit.

Mantas, I'll message you about integrating your new character into the game organically - it'll happen very soon in game, don't worry. I just want to give this scene a proper fade out first.

[PersonMan]

Eyena looks over the river to Phaendar, her gaze rising from the bridge only once its fallen all but completely into the river beneath it. She remains crouched next to the body of the hobgoblin commander, a slight frown on her face, brow furrowed. One hand's fingers idly tap against Blütenstaub's grip. Occasionally, she glances over away from the main cluster of Phaendar's buildings, over to where a few will remember her somewhat isolated hut sitting. She stands, her hands going to the pair of books she carries, giving each a brief pat as she stares over into the remains of the town. Eventually, Eyena reaches down to pick up the armored corpse again, hauling it further from the bridge to join the main group, wherever Kining and Aubrin have gone. She's silent, of course, but does occasionally chew on the inside of her lower lip or frown, sending another glance back across the river.

Eventually, Eyena sits down next to Kergri's corpse, gaze staying down as she continues her interrupted task, this time working to remove the hobgoblin's armor as well as gather all weapons, equipment and so on she was carrying.

Spoiler: OOC

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Quiet Eyena remains quiet.

Going to finish the IC looting of Kergri.

[n0ble]

Rask turned around once and took in the gutted husk of the town. The familiar sounds of a sacking's aftereffects filled his ears, overwhelming the ringing sound placed there by the explosion. He blinked slowly, just the once, then turned his back to the town. A cold knot had firmly lodged itself in his chest. Had he been a younger man it would have burned brighter, with less weariness to it but he was past that now. Should've known better than to hang up the sword. The knot unfurled itself and spread about his body and Rask knew he wouldn't forgive this. Werent no chance for normalcy it seemed. Especially not when there was revenging to be had.

He moved silently amongst the survivors, helping to affix a scabbard here, stripping a corpse of things there. People needed to get ready and then needed to move. With perhaps more effort than he would have liked, Rask shoved the cold anger back down for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight. He'd need a clear head if they were going to get through this, hard as it was to quash his feelings of anger. After all, tt had been so very long since he'd hated anything quite like the Legion.

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin

Standing on the other side of the river, Narek stared at Phaendar, eyes distant. The flames, the collapsing buildings, the milling troops all sounded loud in his ears, except when the occasional screams drowned them out. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, then suddenly jerked, glancing around in fear and concern ... until his eyes fell upon Shara and Thel. Exhaling, he approached them, patting down the boy as he spoke to Shara. "Are you both okay? Any injuries? Are you thirsty or hungry? Quickly ... you should eat something before we head out. And ... and probably grab one of the weapons. Just in case."

As the 'heroes' gathered, Narek approached them. "We should make haste. The Legion may have scouts on this side that will investigate the collapse of the bridge. Best we try to put leagues between us and the town for now. This is not the first time the people here have had to live off of the land; best we get started and focus the others on the trials and tribulations ahead ..."

Spoiler: OOC

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Guess Narek will take the cause fear wand (how many charges?)
Also, Narek will take an alchemist fire, tanglefoot bag, the alchemy lab and the mortar and pestle.

PS - Narek is updated fully, I think.
Status
AC: 16 HP: 11 Init +9 Move 30'
F +0 R +2 W +5
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/18 bolts (10 MW)
Spells: prestidigitation, detect magic, message; grease, mage armor, heightened awareness
Prescience: 3/7; wand of magic missile (2); wand of grease (5); wand of prestidigitation (25); wand of cause fear
Effect: mage armor (+4 AC, 1 hr); prestidigitation (1hr);

[Farmerbink]

Unlike most of his companions, Gilraen's face bears towards the woods, almost immediately. His posture remains guarded, tense. Active. It's as if he considers the woods both their refuge and at the same time a greater threat than the horde behind. Somehow, his expression conveys the utmost respect for the gravity of their pressing task: survival.

He continues to stand sentinel as his companions gather their wits and equipment, along with the findings from the fallen Hobgoblin leader. With a sombre expression, he nods agreement with Narek. "There will be trials sufficient, for sure. Let's go."

He doesn't look back.

Spoiler: OOC

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I've been talking a bit with 3SC. Short version: it seems our party is lacking both trap finding and a party face. I'm also not super enthused with Gilraen's performance (though low rolls may be the primary issue), and am considering rolling a new character as well. There are enough NPCs handy that it seems reasonable that one of them could step into a more prominent role without too much suspension of disbelief.

At any rate, Gilraen isn't yet updated, and I need to head to bed. I'll think on it, and make sure 3SC is happy with how we move on.

/salute

[3SecondCultist]

Survivors

"I'm alright," Shara says to Narek after a moderate period of walking in silence. "Neither of us are hurt, and I got my hands on a bit of food for the both of us. But Nar... Narek. We're all alone out here. You should get something too, before we rest. They're going to need you at your full strength." She turns away, clearly not all that comfortable hanging around her former partner for too long. Eventually, she takes her boy by the hand and leading him to join the others on their march. The people of Phaendar - the refugees, now - have made it as reasonably far as they can. But the sun has fallen far below the treeline, and as the last sights of the Nesmian Plains disappear in favor of the dark tangle of the southern Chernasardo, you risk getting lost before the first night is up. You're not sure who calls for the group to stop, but by the time you do, there are no signs of the fire behind you, and the moon is well up in the sky. There will be no more movement tonight.

A small clearing in the trees is the best thing you could have come across, but it's scant shelter. Aside from a few cases, most of the townsfolk are sleeping outside, curled up together for warmth or huddling beneath trees and putting out extra clothes for blankets. The mood is a mottled gray, and nobody is willing to even risk starting a fire. In the darkness, you can hear a few people crying softly to themselves, but for the most part the people are too tired and end up falling asleep. It's been a long day for just about everyone. Kining stands at the edge of the group, watching the forest and keeping her axes close. "I've got first watch," the dwarf explains if questioned. "Most of you humans can't see worth a damn, and get too panicked when fighting things in the dark." When she's sure that nobody is watching, she lets out a small sigh. As the company falls asleep, the last thing most of them see is the smith surveying the wilderness beyond.

---

The spring morning greets your party, cold and damp just as the almanac promised it would be. Many of the people are already shivering, or have bags under their eyes from lack of proper sleep. In the light of day, you can see that the forest around you is very alive, however: the late Pharast leaves are coming in, and the woods are green with new shoots and wildflowers beds. Those of the townsfolk that have managed to get themselves up are already walking about. Rhyna and Gelis stride into the center of the clearing, with Aubrin and a few others not too far behind. "Well," the temple acolyte says with a not-entirely forced brightness, "the good news is, there aren't any hobgoblins on our trail! Thanks to our heroes, it'll be a matter of days at the least before they can get a working replacement for that bridge and cross into the forest, right Kining?" The smith confirms this with a single nod of her head, but goes back to sharpening one of her axes with a whetstone.

But before you can start discussing all of the pressing matters at hand, some of you notice something that there is something distinctly out of place. At the edge of the clearing, just as the trees are beginning to thicken, you spot a bedroll that was definitely not there last night - and, sitting atop it, two unfamiliar faces that were definitely not there when you went to bed. The first is that of a young half-elven woman delicate face, long brown hair, and deep brown eyes. She wears clothes suited for traveling, a mixture of grays and browns and you catch the glimpse of metal beneath a cloak, although besides a perfunctory crossbow she has little in the way of weaponry. The second figure is much larger, a well-proportioned, muscular figure with pure white hair. He has no armor, but carries a beautifully carved bow on his shoulders that is easily a match for Gilraen's. Catching your eyes, the two stand up. They make no move, their weapons not drawn, as though awaiting a response.

[Lord Of Mantas]

*** The night before, many miles away from Phaendar... ***

"We are lost, Ilsa."

"We're NOT lost, Ramiel! We... just don't know where we are right now."

"That is the same thing as being lost."

"No, there's a difference. We're still heading south, we know that much, and we can't be that far from the group. It has to have been a few hours, since we got separated, at most. How far away could they possibly be?"

"In a wood this tangled, this dark, and hundreds of miles vast? Quite far. It is not for nothing that we hired that druid, after all. No-one sane ventures into the Fangwood without some skill in navigating, or in surviving off the land. The more we move, the further away we get from any chance of finding someone-"

"Ramiel! Just... please, let me think."

In the depths of the Fangwood, silence reigned once more as the two entities who had just been arguing, one male and one female, fell silent. The female slumped against a tree with a look of great worry on her half-elven face, rubbing her temples in frustration. Even with this look of anxiety upon her face, however, even the most cursory examination of the woman revealed her to be a person of great beauty. Tall for a woman, even by half-elven standards, she had a face with almost doll-like features, deep brown eyes set over a small nose and delicate mouth draped by hair of an almost perfectly matching color. She was dressed in a high-collared dark yellow and brown mage's dress, with the edges of a chain shirt poking from beneath the hem, and dark grey trousers and thick cloak over the ensemble, as befitted a traveler. From her right hip hung a simple light crossbow; from her left, a quiver of bolts.

Her companion, if it were possible, made her look like a dwarf in comparison. Setting in at a staggering seven feet tall, he was every bit the picture of a classic hero, his pale skin and snow-white hair giving him the appearance of a living marble statue. Thick, herculean arms, broad shoulders, a proud chin, and a concerned expression were topped off by sapphire blue eyes, and ears that were even longer and more slender than the proudest of elves - for he was no elf, but an outsider. An Azata, to be precise. Unlike his companion, he was dressed in a blue toga, and over his shoulder he bore an expertly hewn longbow, with a quiver of arrows to match.

After the woman had stewed for a minute or two, her companion looked at her intently - and spoke not by mouth, but by thought.

<Are you alright, Ilsa?>

<...no. No, I'm not, Ramiel. This is going horribly.>

<You musn't be so hard on yourself, milady.>

<It's true! All I wanted was to get some real-world fighting experience - to help combat the Darkblight, like Mom and Dad did years ago. To show them that I could be heroes, like they are, and that I'm not a little girl anymore. So here I am, over a hundred miles south of home, out in the middle of the forest, chasing a rumor that someone saw some blighted fey, and what do I have to show for it? I'm lost, with no guide, no idea where to go, no nothing!>

Ramiel placed his hand on Ilsa's shoulder.

<You have me, milady.>

Ilsa looked up, a look of remorse on her face.

<...I'm sorry, Ramiel. I shouldn't have implied that->

<It is alright. Anyone would be stressed in this situation> The azata smirked. <Plus, look on the bright side, it could be worse. We could be getting chased by some monstrous fungus-infested fairies.>

Ilsa turned away and let out a huff, but the smallest hint of a smile was on her mouth.

<Hrmph! Maybe I should find some blighted fey. Maybe when they corner me, the strong, handsome angel who comes out of nowhere to save me won't be such a smartass this time!>

<You think I'm strong and handsome? My dear, what would your parents think?>

<Oh, hush, you.> Ilsa hit Ramiel lightly in the arm. <Even if what you're insinuating were true, considering father's parentage, mother wouldn't exactly have grounds to ->

All of a sudden, the mental conversation stopped, and the two of them found their attention drawn to the sky. It was just after sunset, and the moon had begun to rise - but it was no ordinary moon. The white satellite was not white, but tinged with orange, and the haze around it...

"Is that smoke?"

Ramiel frowned. "It would seem so. Where there's smoke, there's people - but when it's in that large of a quantity, there's usually trouble as well."

Ilsa scratched her chin. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if there is trouble, it beats being lost. And besides, if there's trouble -" She plucked a bolt from her quiver and loaded it. "It would be wrong not to help. We can't just stand by and let whatever's doing that continue."

Ramiel nodded his agreement, drawing an arrow and nocking it to his bowstring. "I am your eidolon, and you are my master. Where you go, I follow."

Ilsa smiled, but shook her head. "Partner. Not master. We're in this together." She looked to the direction of the smoke. "Now let's move."

*** Back in the present... ***

Ilsa & Ramiel
Level 2 Unchained Summoner and Azata Eidolon
HP 15/15, 13/13 | AC: 16, 16| Attack: +3, +5 | Status: --

It was a few hours before dawn when the two finally found the camp. The walk had seemed almost interminable, with the two moving slowly but steadily, not wanting to give their position away to any hostile elements. At last, however, they came upon a large huddle of people - and it was very much a huddle, rather than any sort of organized camp.
<Looks like these folks left in a hurry. Look at them - there's almost no tents, barely any sleeping rolls. These people had to have only had time to grab whatever they could carry. And no fire - they don't want to risk being found, not out here. They have to be refugees.>

A resolute expression passed over her face.

<We have to help them.>

<Agreed. Should we approach?>

<No. It's late, and look at them - I'm not even sure they have a watch going. If we wake them up, all we're going to do is cause a panic.>

Unrolling the sleeping pad she carried on her back, Ilsa sat down, reclining against a tree.

<We wait until morning. We'll let them make the first move; don't want to give them any reason to think we're spies or something. Until then, I'm gonna get some shuteye.>

And so, with a blanket wrapped around her, Ilsa slept, ever so lightly. Just before dawn, she awoke, and for the next hour or so, she watched and waited for the refugees to notice them. Finally, it happened. Four pairs of eyes, a half-orc, an elf, a human, and a samsaran, locked with hers. Making no effort to hide herself, Ilsa returned the gaze, standing tall and proud, with Ramiel by her side.

<And now we wait.>

Spoiler: Ilsa (sans cold-weather outfit)

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Spoiler: Ramiel

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[PersonMan]

The night before, Eyena moves across the group, eyes out on the forest but just as frequently somewhere on the ground a few feet before her. When they set up camp, she starts to prepare a place for herself before eventually pulling the tent taken from Kergri from her belongings, getting it set up and disappearing inside. The next morning, she emerges looking as she had the day before, just without her backpack and the belongings within. Weapon at her side, clad in her armor, armed with a skipping gaze that jumps between people and the woods beyond constantly. Perhaps that's why she notices their new neighbors as she's approaching Kining. She gives a glance over at the archer, then stops as she looks at the other one. She stares, two soft puffs of air from her nose the only sound she makes.

The line of blatant staring has, depending on one's view of things, either been crossed, or is about to be, when Eyena clears her throat. "Um. Most sincere of morning greetings to you. My name is Eyena. Hello," she says, with a nod and an almost painful pause between each sentence.

[Starbin]

Narek Skyskin

The shadows flickered on the walls of the buildings, shapes of the enemy as they searched for survivors. He could hear them talking, guttural sounds that amounted to 'Quiet!' and 'Hurry!' Gripping the staff in his tightly in his hand, he held his breath, praying they wouldn't hear the thundering beat of his heart. He glanced over at his companions, hidden in various spots that he knew to look ok for. All he could hope was that Kroom didn't break the silence.

It took an eternity, but the beasts finally passed them by. One of the last ones chuckled aloud, grunting 'Yes, but she stopped fighting once I gutted her with my real spear!' The words hung in the air, as the magician squeezed his eyes closed, praying that Kroom didn't hear that, or that he wasn't paying attention. The snapping of sticks and rasp of steel being drawn dismissed that hope quickly. With a snarl, Kroom rushed out, giant blade sweeping down to cut the giblinoid in half. The world froze for a moment, then all hell broke loose. More troops came charging back, their cries of alarm echoing in the night air.

Shaking his head, he twisted the staff and stepped out, sweeping the legs out from a nearby enemy. His companions were already at work, blades and spells adding to the chaos. They had the element of surprise for now, but the tide would soon shift. As more foes poured down the street, he absently wondered if any of them would live to see sunrise ...

---

Awaking with a start, Narek slowly rise, stretching his aching muscles. Yawning, he glanced around, trying to suppress a shiver. He pulled out a small piece of dried meat Shara had given him the evening before, chewing on it slowly. His mind was abuzz, thoughts focused on what they needed to do to organize the group of survivors. He looked around, searching for his satchel when he caught Eyena out of the corner of his eye. She was staring at something on the edge of the clearing, then greeting it. Frowning, he rushed forward, concerned.

"Wait! There are dangers in this forest that look innocent and sweet ...". He trailed off at the image of the woman and her stunning companion. Blinking, he pulled forth a wand, holding it casually. "Ah ... hello. Who might you be, lurking at the edges of our campsite? Someone find some fey-bane iron..."

Spoiler: OOC

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Greetings! Now touch this cold iron and prove you're not an evil fairy!
Status
AC: 16 HP: 11 Init +9 Move 30'
F +0 R +2 W +5
Weapon: Hvy crossbow w/18 bolts (10 MW)
Spells: prestidigitation, detect magic, message, acid splash; mage armor, obscuring mist, endure elements, heightened awareness
Prescience: 7/7; wand of magic missile (2); wand of grease (5); wand of prestidigitation (25); wand of cause fear (12)
Effect: none

[n0ble]

It didn't seem like anyone else was going to touch the hob's armour, so Rask put it on. Something would have to be done about the any of the Ironfang iconography. Just because he could see well in the dark didn't mean others could. Moving about in an enemy breastplate seemed like a great way to get a new breathing hole from a squirrley refugee. Hopefully the extra protection was worth the chance.

He slept at the roots of a large tree, sword still firmly in hand.

---

Come morning Rask rose steadily, giving his old shoulders a roll while getting used to where the new armour let him move and not move.

He'd been of a mind to start sharpening his sword and then setting a pace for the day when he saw the pair. Rask moved up alongside Kining, great sword in one hand. His eyes went from the woman, to the bowman to Kining and then back to the pair.

Spoiler: OOC

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Gonna take the breastplate if no one else is interested.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa & Ramiel
Level 2 Unchained Summoner and Azata Eidolon
HP 15/15, 13/13 | AC: 16, 16| Attack: +3, +5 | Status: --

"Um. Most sincere of morning greetings to you. My name is Eyena. Hello."

"Ah ... hello. Who might you be, lurking at the edges of our campsite? Someone find some fey-bane iron..."

Ilsa laughed.

"Mistaken for Fey? That's a new one. Ramiel?"

Ilsa gestured for the eidolon to stoop a little, and, rummaging through his quiver, pulled out an arrow. Holding it up to the morning light, Ilsa let the wary strangers see that it, by all appearances, was cold iron, then held her hand to the arrowhead.

"My name is Ilsa Hartwick, and this is my... companion, Ramiel. May we approach? I'd prefer not to shout."

[PersonMan]

Eyena shuffles from one foot to the other as some of the others approach, though her eyes only briefly leave Ilsa. One hand shifts, remaining near the handle of Eisenherz but moving between a ready grip, a motion away from drawing the weapon, and a resting one atop the pommel. At Narek's words, Eyena seems ready to unsheathe her weapon, but stops as Ilsa acts, nodding. As she asks her question, Eyena is silent for a few moments, before nodding again as she speaks.

"The reasons to decline would be few. The reasons - em," Eyena speaks quietly, then frowns and stops. If it wasn't clear before, her continued speech is thick with an elven accent. "For which...purpose...has your arrival. At this location, occured?" She continues, pausing several times.

Spoiler: OOC

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A quick note: the idea here is that she's basically taking formal-form Elven and turning it into Common, so anyone who speaks both well would probably have a good chance of recognizing what she's doing here.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa & Ramiel
Level 2 Unchained Summoner and Azata Eidolon
HP 15/15, 13/13 | AC: 16, 16| Attack: +3, +5 | Status: --

Ilsa cocked her head to the side as Eyena spoke, a look of confusion on her face.

Why is she speaking Common with the grammatical structure of formal Elven?

After pausing for a few moments, she replied.

"I'm... lost. Very, very lost. I was originally part of an expedition from Lastwall - I'd heard rumors that there was a resurgence of the Darkblight in the Fangwood, and so we came to investigate. But last night I got separated from my group after we ran into a pack of owlbears, and I kind of fell into a small cave. When I got out, the rest of them were nowhere to be seen. But what I did see was smoke - a lot of it, over the silhouette of the moon. So I followed it, and it led me to you."

Ilsa caught her breath.

"Of course, that raises the question - why are you all out here? Wherever you're from, it looks like you left in a hurry."

[PersonMan]

"Hobgoblins," Eyena says, nodding slightly. There's a pause, and she looks a bit off to the side for a few moments. "The coming of...erm, a great deal of. Hobgoblins," she continues. "We killed some."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ilsa & Ramiel
Level 2 Unchained Summoner and Azata Eidolon
HP 15/15, 13/13 | AC: 16, 16| Attack: +3, +5 | Status: --

<And so the truth comes to light.>

<Yeah, but not a whole lot of it. This lady's not a chatty one. Looks awfully shy, come to think of it.>

Concern crossed Ilsa's face.

"Enough hobgoblins to wipe out an entire town?" She frowned. "Please, tell me everything." She looked to the others in the group, tacitly inviting them to speak as well.