Bink's WotR part 2: The Gray Garrison and beyond!

[DarkOne-Rob]

Filburn seems satisfied - not happy, nor particularly upset - as the army passes the destroyed city, but he does notice the unhappy looks on the faces of the others. "There was a time, not long ago, when I might have tried to encourage everyone...make them feel better," he murmurs to his black blade.

Meh - it's war with literal demons. No one should expect to be happy with that.

"Sure, but an army isn't a machine - it's made up of people with hearts and feelings..."

And you are talking to a metal sword with no heart and only a rudimentary interest in understanding even your feelings, let alone theirs. If you want some help with morale, talk to someone who can do something about it!

---

As the party makes camp Filburn looks to find Nurah Dendiwhar. Once found, he explains how he scouted and what he saw. "Is there any way you can sort of spread the word to encourage everyone? I don't want people worried that we didn't take the possibility of survivors or remaining enemies seriously. Maybe present it so that people are encouraged to apply their righteous anger to the upcoming battle?"

[BelGareth]

Grace kept looking at the city, even after Filburn landed and reported in, wheeling her horse so she could keep her steel gaze upon it. Something ached deep inside her, she yearned to go and serve, there must be survivors, "I will come back" she whispered, "I will come back". Her horse stopped moving as she held onto the reigns, then she looked away, spurring the horse to catch up with the others.

As they camped, she made herself busy with work, cleaning her horse, oiling her armor, weapons, and gear, she left Radiance for the last, at which she performed a ceremony to Iomedae, rededicating the sword, herself, and the two of them together, to the Goddess of righteous valor, justice and honor.

Once complete, she heads out into the warcamp, fully armored, meandering about, talking to members of the army, gauging morale, smiling at those she deemed needed, and generally getting to know them.

[MuffinMan]

Similarly to Grace, Waylan spends his evening wandering about the camp, preferring the speak to the soldiers in groups of 2 or 3 rather than making any grand addresses. "It's a terrible thing, aye, and no mistaking it. But what happened to Vallas' Gift will happen everywhere if don't get to Drezen and strike back against the demons. For our families, for our countrymen, we must not let their deaths be in vain!" He leads simple evening prayers to Erastil over the campfires of any who seem appreciative of it. "So long as our wills are united in common purpose, we are strong. Together we will take back this land for the people, and put such terror into the foe that they won't show their faces for a thousand years!"

[Farmerbink]

The evening passes largely uneventfully. The army seems to respond well to both Waylan and Grace's overtures, and are clearly pleased to see the somewhat celebrities socializing with the rank and file. At several points, Aron and some of the other more plan-oriented individuals find themselves peering skyward- only to find that the constellations and stars they know are utterly misplaced. It's a sobering thought that the very fringes of the world seem to have turned against you, though the River Sellen seems as straight and consistent as ever. Perhaps it's for the best that you can follow the earth north- the sky is no help whatsoever.

The next morning, brutal winds descend from the bluff to the East. Throughout the day, the distance varies as the army trudges northwards. Sometimes it's far enough that you can't make out the ledge, and others it's a light blue tinge on the horizon. But always, it's masked by the sepia blend of dust and silt filling the air and agitating your lungs and eyes. Travel is rough, and slow-going. It's impossible to be certain that you've evaded notice, but it seems likely that the wind and dust plaguing your scouts likewise interfere with theirs.

Aron is in a sour mood when the army breaks for camp. The sun seems to be setting earlier than it should, and the winds haven't yet died down, making tent pitching a decidedly awkward task. Still, there are more than enough hands to the task, and eventually it is accomplished. "I can't be sure," the scout grumbles to the heroes, "But I doubt we made it more than twenty miles today..."

The army at large doesn't seem worse off than before, but supplies are consumed as usual.

Spoiler: Army progress

Show

At the end of day two, Aron suspects you've traveled 55 of the 160 miles. Stores are at 44/50.

[JWallyR]

Morevek huddles in his tent as best he can, unused to the harsh weather of the wilds, without the trappings of civilization to shield him. He seems more bothered by the tensions of the day's march, unknowing of what dangers might have been hidden by the storm, than by the dust and wind themselves.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Throughout the day Filburn notes the dust and wind, scowling frequently and conversing with his sword more (as evidenced by his frequent tics). "I don't like this at all - could we be the target of powerful demonic magic, meant to slow down the army?" he asks Aravashnial at one point, directing the Rift Warden's attention to both the weather and the slow pace of the army. "Or could this just be a bit or a rough spot? As we get closer to the center of the Worldwound, will things continue to get weirder?"

[MuffinMan]

Aron is in a sour mood when the army breaks for camp. The sun seems to be setting earlier than it should, and the winds haven't yet died down, making tent pitching a decidedly awkward task. Still, there are more than enough hands to the task, and eventually it is accomplished. "I can't be sure," the scout grumbles to the heroes, "But I doubt we made it more than twenty miles today..."

"Still, my friend, we made it without losing a man, or encountering more of the demons. In my book that's a fine day indeed!" Waylan claps the scout on the back, trying to ease his spirits. "Besides, our pace is still good enough, isn't it? At this rate we've five more days until we reach Drezen, with supplies to last another fourteen or so. With your keen eyes helping guide the way I'm sure we'll make it. Cheer up! All will be well."

[Gwynfrid]

Elerembriel shares the soldiers' uneasy, mournful advance around the murdered village. The progress is hard that day, physically as much as mentally, and the shy young girl mostly keeps to herself, unable to imagine a way she could help comfort and encourage anyone. She talks to Aravashnial from time to time, comparing notes on the state of the land and the few features of the landscape.

At the end of the day, she helps however she can with the setting up of the camp. In the semi-darkness, the owl that never was far from her during the day takes off, on an extensive exploration beyong the limits of the camp.

Spoiler

Show

In case those are needed, rolls for Sruech'ul:
Perception (1d20+16)[27]
Stealth (1d20+22)[31]

[Farmerbink]

Aravashnial nods somberly at Filburn's question. "The most well-known facet of the Worldwound, among scholars, is its... mutability," the Elf begins- sounding more like a professor of a class than a colleague in a private tent. "There are a great many theories regarding the why, but the statement itself is tacitly accepted as fact at this point. Perhaps some small part of the Abyss itself has trickled out into our world, or the foul energies that make the place what it is, at least. Nobody is really sure, but this is actually not strange at all." After a few breaths of pipe smoke, the Elf smiles in a way that provides not the slightest bit of comfort.

"Of course, one theory is that powerful demons control every aspect of the Worldwound, and use it to their nefarious purposes, so you could be quite right." The conversation continues for a time, and Aravashnial makes clear that he doesn't know of any being powerful enough to control the entire region that isn't simultaneously embroiled in some machinations that seem to take their full effort. There are grand forces at play, to be sure, but they are not without limit, nor without resistance. He thinks the Worldwound is just a horribly weird place.

---

At any rate, sometime near midnight (if the moon's position is any reliably indicator (it's not)), the winds finally die down- suddenly. The stillness is so sudden and silent that it actually causes many of the sleeping crusaders to wake and wonder at the uncomfortable silence. One man somewhere in the camp coughs, and it seems deafening. He chokes the sounds away, embarrassed to have made them, and gradually the army begins to find its way back to sleep.

Still, the next day dawns, clear and calm. The army breaks their camp and begins to trudge northwards, along the eastern bank of the river. The morning passes smoothly, and you march on into the afternoon.

A few hours before sundown, Anevia and Aron (who have been scouting further ahead still) rush back to the heroes, with grim news: The Vilareth Ford has been taken by the enemy!

"The crusaders who protected the place are dead, and their heads and entrails now decorate the bunker-like structures that line the river’s east bank," Anevia reports with a frown. "An army of Tieflings now camps in an open area just east of the ford. If we're careful, we might be able to use the rough scrubland terrain to approach unknown and be upon them before they're ready."

[DarkOne-Rob]

Filburn listens to the wizened old elf with rapt attention, only leaving after a long, if not productive, conversation. As he stares out into the night he wonders at the enormity of it all and the incredible threat the Abyss presents. "We really have to succeed...the whole world depends on us..." he mutters to his weapon. This time it has no response, leaving him in the windy, dusty night to his own, quiet thoughts.

---

Upon hearing the report Filburn immediately demands to see the ford himself. "Take me there - if we can route them while saving the army's strength I think we should. If not, then let's see it for ourselves so we can plan the attack..." he says, not out of lack of trust, but knowing that seeing the scene themselves will help them make the right decision...

[MuffinMan]

A few hours before sundown, Anevia and Aron (who have been scouting further ahead still) rush back to the heroes, with grim news: The Vilareth Ford has been taken by the enemy!

"The crusaders who protected the place are dead, and their heads and entrails now decorate the bunker-like structures that line the river’s east bank," Anevia reports with a frown. "An army of Tieflings now camps in an open area just east of the ford. If we're careful, we might be able to use the rough scrubland terrain to approach unknown and be upon them before they're ready."

"This Tiefling army, what else did you notice about them? Their troop size, armaments perhaps?" He pauses, wondering for a moment at the unfamiliar language coming from his own mouth. "Tieflings can usually see in the dark - right, Morevek? If we lose the light they'll have us at a distinct disadvantage." He points up towards the sinking sun. "How far ahead is the ford? Would we have time to make it there and back before nightfall?"

[Gwynfrid]

"An army..." Elrembriel realizes that the group's successes in fighting small groups of demons and cultists haven't prepared her for this, a full-scale war. "Could you draw a rough map, Anevia? Maybe we could act as a diversion on one side so that our soldiers can approach unnoticed from a different direction."

[Farmerbink]

"Sure, right this-" Anevia begins, before Waylan and Elrembriel's questions cause her to pause. "Uh, My count is around 200, but they don't look like veterans. It's about another two miles ahead. We've got plenty of time to beat sundown¹, but better not waste it. They don't know we're here yet, but surely they aren't foolish enough to camp for the night without patrols."

She turns to the Elven wizard. "It's not going to be all that exciting, but sure." Hopping off her own mount, Anevia draws a dagger. Using the butt end, she sketches a handful of lines in the dirt, depicting the ford and the narrowing of clear and easily traversable land on the way to it.²

"We'd have to bring the army a bit further off route to keep them in the rougher terrain further back from the river, but it shouldn't be a grand effort to take them by surprise."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

1: The army moves at something like 2-4 miles per hour, and you've got 2-3 hours left of daylight before visibility will be a problem.
2: the source material does not provide a map for this encounter. It's largely an open field with a river crossing behind and scrubland in front. By the book, your army can ambush theirs, if you choose to.

Finally, the book assumes that your characters do not directly engage the enemy army. Even at the equivalent of level 1 or 2 rogues, the couple-hundred of them would overwhelm you eventually. That also doesn't account for trying to chase down fleeing Tieflings and other issues.

[DarkOne-Rob]

At the more detailed description Filburn settles a moment as he realized he had dramatically underestimated the number of enemies. "Yeah...we aren't going to be able deal with all of them without either truly awesome magical power or the army..." he says, somewhat dejectedly. "I know nothing I have would suffice to let me fight that many, though I hope to help in the upcoming battle..."

After looking at the drawn map he asks, "Is there any reason the army cannot ambush them? We could act as clean-up and ensure no stragglers get away to give warning to the cultists holding Drezen..."

[MuffinMan]

Waylan looks down, trying to imagine the masses of living, breathing bodies clashing in mortal combat that are represented by Anevia's simples squiggles in the dirt. "I don't know much about strategy..." he begins, stroking his beard pensively, "but if we can hit them before they know we're here - that's a good thing, right? Perhaps the five of us can wait in reserve to foil any traps the enemy may try to spring, or guard against any reinforcements?"

[Gwynfrid]

"I have never been on a battlefield either. So, I'll follow your lead", Elrembriel says, looking at Grace and Irabeth. "But there's something I can do to help. Let me give the... are they called captains... lieutenants? Well... I can give them four stones that will produce light, bright as day. I know that tieflings can call forth areas of darkness, and hopefully my magic can counter that."

[BelGareth]

Grace agreed, "An ambush is a good idea, it would do the armies morale good to get a win, and put steel on steel, meet the enemy and put a face to the pain, we could lure them in, have our men split into two, here and here" she marks on the crude map "and then we can bring them down the middle with some kind of bait, then we smash them on both sides."

[JWallyR]

"Tieflings can usually see in the dark - right, Morevek? If we lose the light they'll have us at a distinct disadvantage."

Morevek nods at the rustic priest. "Indeed, it seems to be... a trait universal among... my brethren." The final word escapes through pursed lips, as though ill-tasting on the swordsman's lips. "I suspect that we are... committed to a battle, whether we wish one or not. If we make camp and are discovered in the night, the outcome could be... dire." He shakes his head in vigorous distaste at the idea.

"No, we should press on, and attack before nightfall, else we cede the advantage."

[Farmerbink]

Consistent with Anevia and Aron's report, the next half hour of travel is fairly straightforward. The heroes press ahead, planning to serve as an undeniable distraction while the bulk of the army under Irabeth's command travels more directly (but more slowly) to the ford- planning to blind-side the unexpecting Tieflings. As you scale the last shallow ridge before the ford, you see the scene spread out before you. Even from this distance (roughly a half mile), the rust red of bloodstained walls stands out against the pale gray stone. You can't actually smell the offal yet, but you've experienced enough of it for phantom odors to begin assaulting your senses. Sadly consistent with the work of the demonic, you find yourself once more repulsed by the sheer wrongness of their actions.

But the army is on the move, and you can't get bogged down by silly things like feelings. There's work to be done.

The party rides westward along the ridge, quick reaching the near bank of the River Sellen- and knowingly announcing your presence by armor that reflects the setting sunlight to anyone and anything for miles around. It doesn't take long before there's activity in the encampment by the ford. Even without the aid of magic, you can see the telltale runners frantically preparing the army for combat.

By the time you turn northwards, there is a vanguard prepared for your arrival. A double row of grim, demonic faces stares as you remain well out of reasonable bowshot, but nonetheless provide ample distraction. When the Knights of Kenabres scale the ridge, they're some 200 feet from the bulk of the Tieflings' flanks, and the enemy is none the wiser. With a roar, they charge down the open field, many casting arrows into the sky to plummet into their flanks with devastating efficacy. With sudden, bloody violence, the battle has begun.

Spoiler: Phase one!

Show

I have included a tab for the Knights of Kenabres in the maps document.

Your army attempts the the ambush tactic: (1d20+10)[21] OM, including +2 for scouting). It's very likely that the enemy army is stuck in the "standard" tactic. You all can choose any of the various tactics known to the Knights at this point. It can be consensus, or you can choose to let someone decide- so long as that someone isn't me.

In the ranged phase, the Knights get to attack: (1d20+10)[17] This result is sufficient for a significant amount of damage (it exceeds the enemy army's DV). At this point, it's imperative that you guys give me a consensus on the strategy chosen for the melee phase.

[DarkOne-Rob]

As their army begins its flanking maneuver Filburn cries wordlessly and raises his black blade high, spurring his mount into a gallop towards the tiefling army. He then joins in with the paladins, striking at the enemy with the strength of surprise on his side.

Spoiler: Aklo

Show

"For Kenabras!"

He calls, in his cursed tongue, and loses himself in the frenzy of battle, aiding his nearby allies as he fights with the Knights of Kenabras.

[Gwynfrid]

When it is clear that the battle is about to begin, Elrembriel casts four identical spells in quick succession.

"Quand le moment vient de l'ardeur guerrière
Des forces du mal on voit les ténèbres tout autour
C'est alors qu'il nous faut porter haut la lumière
Au coeur brûlant du combat, je veux qu'il fasse jour!"

As she speaks, the brilliant halo of blue erupts from her hair and eyes, and when she's done, four round pebbles in her hands each emit a wide wave of white light. Quickly, she distributes them to the runners to carry to their respective captains.

Spoiler

Show

Four castings of Daylight, 4 use of mythic power.

[Farmerbink]

The battle is bloody, brief, and blessedly one-sided. The Tieflings taken by surprise and faced by an honest to gods army of paladins never stood a chance. Within a few minutes it's clear that your forces have won the day and taken the ford. What few Tieflings still live are incapacitated, wounded, demoralized, or some combination of all three that they're not fighting anymore.

In the immediate aftermath, Anevia and Aron report to you, as Irabeth has also returns. "I'm going to check northward, this side of the river, to make sure no one else lies in wait nearby." Aron offers. "Good idea," Anevia responds, turning to the group of heroes. "If you don't think it's a bad idea, I'll cross the river and begin scouting over there. We've got some daylight left, and it wouldn't do for this to be a smaller shock troop." You all can approve or deny their suggestions.

Irabeth clasps hands happily with Sosiel, jubilant in celebration of your first victory. Within moments, their attitudes become more somber as they contemplate the nature of war. "Surely there are some injured and slain," Sosiel remarks, his baritone voice still a bit surprising from his slight frame. "I'm going to patrol the field and do what I can," he finishes soberly. Irabeth nods, and turns to do likewise. "Me too!" Nurah calls, beginning to scamper off after the Shelynite cleric.

((What do you all do, in the immediate aftermath of battle?))

[DarkOne-Rob]

Filburn walks up to hear the tail-end of the reports and nod in agreement to send Anevia to scout as she suggested. "Let's make that a standing-plan," he says. "We cannot trust our enemies, they will certainly try to trick us another time if not now."

Looking about, Filburn smiles at the enthusiasm shown by the company at the conclusion of their first battle. He looks around to see pockets of dead or injured, though he doesn't really know what he can do to help. "Ever since you came to me I have been more deadly in battle, but less able to help our allies recover from it. Is that your doing? Or part of this change that has come over me?" he asks the black blade at his side.

Well, most arcane magic lacks the power to knit wounds together. Some practitioners pull it off, but they always work in unorthodox, spontaneous ways. You aren't exactly a learned wizard or anything, but you are becoming more like them than a bard or other musician. I don't have any memory before we first communed, so I don't know how you did it or what changed... Somehow Baerlyon gives the impression of a shrug, though Filburn has no idea how it manages that.

"Well, it would be handy now..." the half-elf mutters as he looks out at the army and tries to smile. Then he turns to Waylan and Grace and gestures towards the army. "One of you should say something to them - either to congratulate the troops or bolster the spirits of the hurt and injured. The rest of us can stand with you..."

[Gwynfrid]

Not considering herself qualified enough to opine on scouting or healing, Elrembriel leaves those matters to her companions, and instead seeks out Aravashnial.

"Master Aravashnial, it has come to my mind that my collection of spells may not be adequate for big battles against such creatures, and on their turf. I do have this power that came to me inexplicably, that is true, and it lets me cast magics previously unknown to me. But it is limited in use. I would much prefer having the right magic at my disposal in the form of my book of spells. Our circumstances are dire... So, I was thinking... Er... Considering the urgency..." She blushes a deep shade of red, something that's impossible to hide for someone with such a pale skin.

"I mean, would you let me copy one or maybe two spells from your... er... your own book, Master?"

[MuffinMan]

In the immediate aftermath, Anevia and Aron report to you, as Irabeth has also returns. "I'm going to check northward, this side of the river, to make sure no one else lies in wait nearby." Aron offers. "Good idea," Anevia responds, turning to the group of heroes. "If you don't think it's a bad idea, I'll cross the river and begin scouting over there. We've got some daylight left, and it wouldn't do for this to be a smaller shock troop." You all can approve or deny their suggestions.

Irabeth clasps hands happily with Sosiel, jubilant in celebration of your first victory. Within moments, their attitudes become more somber as they contemplate the nature of war. "Surely there are some injured and slain," Sosiel remarks, his baritone voice still a bit surprising from his slight frame. "I'm going to patrol the field and do what I can," he finishes soberly. Irabeth nods, and turns to do likewise. "Me too!" Nurah calls, beginning to scamper off after the Shelynite cleric.

"Ay, scout the surrounding area and come back quickly if you see anything amiss," Waylan agrees. "Master Sosiel has the right of it, I think. I will patrol from the opposite direction and help as many of the wounded as I can." He starts to head off when he hears Filburn's suggestion.

"Well, it would be handy now..." the half-elf mutters as he looks out at the army and tries to smile. Then he turns to Waylan and Grace and gestures towards the army. "One of you should say something to them - either to congratulate the troops or bolster the spirits of the hurt and injured. The rest of us can stand with you..."

"I will tend to the injured as I find them," he nods. "Thank the gods there aren't too many. For matters of inspiration, Grace, I believe that is your area - who better than the wielder of Radiance herself to commemorate the hour of our first victory?"

[BelGareth]

Grace had followed Filburn and joined in the fray as best she could, leaping to protect those in danger, and putting herself in harms way as much as possible, she shone, like a beacon of hope to the paladins around her, and the righteous fury she bore, slew tieflings left and right.

After the battle was won, she dismounted, and tended to those wounded she could find, picking through the battlefield, dead checking the fallen enemies by flicking eyeballs, and then dispatching those who reacted, a cold facade steeled her as she did, it was gruesome work, but these evil beings deserved no less, and they could not afford prisoners en masse, and well....they were inimitably evil.

The gruesome work was alleviated when she found a wounded soldier, or perhaps, an unconscious one, which she would help up, recover and guide to the recovery tents, and food.

She came back to the others hearing Waylan speak, she was covered in soot, dirt, blood, ichor, and viscera, she looked all the part of a crusading knight, her armor took a few dents, and her forehead streaked with whatever was on her hands at the time. Nodding, she agrees.

Moving to the recovery tents, and food, for that was where most of them were congregating, she looked out, and found she had a problem, she was not tall enough, looking around there were a few chairs, and tables, but...they were full. Not wanting to grab a horse, as they were tired from the brawl, she shrugged her shoulders and jumped onto a table.

She merely stood on table, making eye contact with every single person she could, merely nodding, a knowing glance that they had done a good days work.

"I AM GLAD." she says, bold and earnest "I AM GLAD THAT WE HAVE YOU WITH US. FOR YOUR TENACITY, YOUR BOLDNESS, YOUR DEDICATION SHOWED TODAY. IT SHOWED TO US, SHOWED TO YOUR BRETHREN, SHOWED TO YOUR LORDS, AND MASTERS, YOUR FATHERS AND MOTHERS, BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY." she pauses for effect "THE ENEMY SAW IT AS WELL! AND DID THEY TREMBLE, DID THEY LOSE THEIR VALOR AND FLEE BEFORE YOU!" she screamed, almost hoarse, "IT IS TIMES LIKE THIS, THAT WE DO NOT CHOOSE FOR OURSELVES, THAT WE DO NOT CHOOSE TO BE IN TIMES LIKE THIS, THAT WE MUST INDEED, CHOOSE TO PROTECT THOSE WHO CANNOT! I AM PROUD! I AM PROUD TO FIGHT BESIDE YOU ALL, AND PROUD TO CALL YOU ALL....BROTHERS IN ARMS!!!"

Somewhere in the speech, she had pulled Radiance out and was holding it aloft, like a beaming flame pointing to the sky.

Spoiler

Show

Pretty sure they are unreedamable evil and dispatching their fallen is within Paladin code? If not, please let me know, and I will change it.

For the speech.
Diplomacy - (1d20+14)[22]

[JWallyR]

As the bulk of the hostilities subsides, the sweeping storm of steel that is Morevek's gleaming blade slows, allowing its bearer to survey the battlefield. He looks to the fallen foes, some with fiendish heritage that screams its presence upon their every feature; others whose almost-human faces stare, unseeing, into the sky... faces very much like the pale one that bears his two, fathomless ebony eyes.

He nods acknowledgment to the paladins that sweep the area, raising his blade in salute, trusting those gestures and his own notoriety with the crusade to distinguish him from the fallen tieflings that surround them all. He turns to seek out the other members who make up the leadership of their momentary army.

Nodding his stoic assent to the suggestions of his companions, the tiefling stares off into the distance as night begins to descend. Only the closest of his friends would be able to detect the haggardness of his otherwise expressionless face as he gazes out into the countryside. Without a word, he seizes the reins of the horse allotted for his use and spurs it outward to scout for other agents of the abyss.

[Farmerbink]

The battle ends, and hero along with rank-and-file alike begin to decompress. There is only minor healing to be done, so Sosiel and Waylan finish their patrols relatively quickly.

Just before he sets off into the dwindling daylight, Aron mentions to the gathered heroes, "It's probably worth our time to scavenge gear and supplies from their camp. It's an ugly job, but food is food." Without waiting for confirmation, he trots off to his chore.

After a brief time, during which Irabeth clearly appreciates Grace's simple speech, and perhaps more importantly the fierce young woman's presence among the army, Irabeth finds a decent opportunity to speak with the heroes. "Perhaps," she begins, wit ha hopeful expression. "There may yet be some survivors from the garrison stationed here before the Tieflings arrived." She points across the ford to a trio of squat stone buildings near the far shore. "There's no sign of humans among the Tieflings, so they'd be over there. Probably a couple bunkers and a storehouse."

[DarkOne-Rob]

At Irabeth's recommendation Filburn nods. "Let's go - Morevek and I will scout it out. Everyone else, be ready to follow. If they left guards or traps it will be good to have our allies' behind us," he says as he readies himself for the task and leads the way.

[Gwynfrid]

Elrembriel nods simply, and follows the group, grateful for an opportunity to help in a more direct manner than just the casting of a couple of spells.