As fast as the can, the Quick Reaction Strike Force hurries to where the "Troll Awakening" was going on.
 
It is a late December afternoon, and a soft, light snow has begun, and by the time they arrive, the ground has a crust of white.  At least there is no danger of burning any more of the Elven woods... but the destruction visible in this area is stunning.  The underbrush is burned away, and one of the great Elven Home Trees has fallen, with the wreckage of a tree top village strewn about.  It is a year old now.  For some reason the Elves have made no effort to remove the debris or replant the area.



The "troll awakener" has been busy- three trolls have already been awakened from their magical stasis, and the Orc shaman is working on a forth.  And there are a number of trolls around still in their inert forms.  They can be easily recognized, now that the party knows what to look for, but no one knows exactly how many have been scattered around the Beda area.  It could be dozens- which would mean the Huns intended to have a formidable force of trolls behind Elven lines when they attacked!


Heolstor's force has the trolls very outnumbered... but then, these are trolls.


 

         Whats the current range of the Troll shaman thats awakening his companions
from our advanced mounted contingent?

Heolstor took a moment to look more closely at the terrain as they came upon the inert trolls. He didn't like what he saw: debris, much and more of it, which meant it would be difficult for the cavalry to simply ride down the foe by the strength of their charge. The Saxon leaned back and whispered something, something curious - though barely audible it sounded like birdsong. Pwyll flitted from his place behind Heolstor to take up a post on the gargantuan tree to their fore. He hopped down its branch, bright black eye examining the closest sleeping troll. Then he flew farther afield: out of sight, towards the place the Huns had chosen for their battle position.

The Saxon Lord turned to the young Breton, wheeling his horse about to come closer to the scout and be heard over the chatter of soldiers and stomping of eager hooves. "Brannoc. Take command of the scouts and these elves among our number - guide them through the wreckage to our left." He pointed, to the downed tree and the winding paths that led through it.

"I will take the cavalry, both man and dwarf, to the right where there is room to maneuver. Then - I will assault their position, draw their ire, and force them to confront me or collapse. Make your way through the debris..." He paused, drawing back on his steed's reins to still his horse for a moment longer. Heolstor's gaze stayed fixed on Brannoc, intense and focused. "... And kill the sorceror before more of these things wake."

The Saxon's eyes didn't veer from Brannoc's still. "Kill the sorceror. Grind him to dust. Win your glory today, Breton, and I will remember it." There was a wildness to him as he spoke, a reminder that he was not like the lordlings to the South. He was a warlord, not a poet, not a gentle scholar.

Then, to Dunduin, Arctos, and the cavalry... "With me, riders! The trolls are ours!" His horse edged its way back to the front and center of the formation. Both man and horse grew tense, muscles tight with anticipation and nervousness. The last troll he had faced had been a trial. How many could him and his men overcome? How many did the orcs have on hand?... A thought occurred as his memory of that past encounter resurfaced, though. "Take fire to their flesh when they fall, or they'll only rise again!"

Heolstor's shield came easily into his left hand, falling from his shoulder as he pulled it loose to sit firmly gripped in his palm. Brand's edge slipped from its sheath loosely, ready in his right. His fingers wrapped themselves around the sword's leather handle familiarly. The Saxon looked to Dunduin, to confirm the other warrior was prepared. When he responded in the affirmative Heolstor signalled for the cavalry to follow him forward.

If the orcs or trolls closed the distance and moved into the debris itself he'd order the cavalry to dismount, as if they were dragoons, and close on foot. Without room to maneuver or charge a horse could be more a liability than a boon.

He had no orders for Petra, as he assumed she would not be able to hear him. The priestess' good judgment would have to suffice. Hopefully she'd harry their foe from above as battle joined.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:13, Mon 03 Dec 2012.

In reply to Arctos (msg # 2):

K1-12 is the Shaman. He's on the map... Sorry, just looking in and it's right there.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:33, Mon 03 Dec 2012.

In reply to Titus Mercator (msg # 4):

Demus has a confused expression as Heolstor begins to give commands and guesses that he should ask Brannoc's permission before trying to weaken the trolls with fire. Any objections a fireball Brannoc? I can try and aim it at the 2 trolls that are closest, or at the shaman and hopefully get another troll. his finger reach into a pouch on his belt as he speaks.

Callidus sneaks around the rubble and debris and stealthily attempts to get closer to the enemy shaman.

"Roight" Dunduin acknowledges Heolstor's command.

"Dwarves! We ride with the human cavalry to combat the trolls. Let's put to good use our combat expertise in battling giant sized creatures and trolls specifically." Unleashing his massive magical mace and swinging it above his head riding his pony he ends the mace swinging and points in the direction of their travel "Let's ride!"

Anything that Petra had been told of the decimation of Beda could not have prepared her for the sight. Aloft, borne upon Hermod's back, her aerial view of it conveyed the scope of what had been done here in heart-wracking detail.

Cleric was she, not Druid; but her love of the land was no less for that.  She had been brought up to respect and revere nature, by the uncle whose heart beat so similarly to her own.  It was a basic and essential part of who she was.  One reason why she'd gotten on better with Tugdual, than with some other clerics she'd met.

It was wholly abominable to look upon.  Of course, what was done to this land's people wasn't visible today. But, somehow, to her, Beda seemed to echo with their suffering and overwhelming despair.

And to both sides of her - German and Elf - this was a thing that demanded righteous retribution.  The trolls themselves were not the perpetrators of the holocaust here.  But, they were allies of those.  And all too willing to maim and murder in service of the same unholy cause. Yes; they would suffice.

In Petra's hand was the composite bow that had been finely crafted in her homeland - well wish gift from uncle and father on the day she had left.  Consecrated and blessed by a hunter-priest of Ullr. Over her shoulder, the quiver of Elvish enchantment, given by High-priestess Kandralde, when Petra had agreed to come and be part of Heolstor's campaign.

Thus, she would smite these enemies as both Elf and Daughter of the Vanir and Aesir.

Removing an arrow from the quiver, she guided faithful Hermod to lose some altitude, and bank off toward the north-east.  There were Huns on the field.  And one in particular was her own dark equivalent. She spotted the posturing and positionings of ritual even from up here.  Not to mention being amidst the wakening trolls.

Closer she flew, then abruptly nocked the arrow and drew aim.  Elvish magic permeated this shaft; enchanted to be specifically inimical to this priest of Demons and Death.

Petra accounted and adjusted for the headwind, then let the arrow fly.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:07, Mon 03 Dec 2012.

"Objections?" Brannoc raised a questioning brow. "No...try not to hit our friends, otherwise I don't care. More havoc you can bring upon them the better. Don't hold back." The Breton smiled and padded the wizard on the shoulder. "Come, lets get to a position before the cavalry steals all the fun."

The scout sprinted after Callidus through the foliage. Trolls, them he would gladly leave to the heavy armored dwarves, but orcs... he knew how to kill them. It would be satisfying to put an arrow or two at the enchanter or his guards. He could sneak to their right flank and give them hail of arrows...

The group rushes ahead to engage the enemy, moving to either side of the great fallen tree.  The trunk is quite wide- they cannot see over the top of it.  The force is quickly divided.

On the north flank, Demus finally gets his chance to Fireball a pair of approaching trolls.  There is a burst of flame, and Demus makes an astonishing discovery- if you set off a Fireball on snow, it seems you get "obscuring mist" as a free bonus.  A steamy fog now engulfs the Trolls and Demus can't really see what kind of damage he did!

(But the fireball, and the fog, in the dim late afternoon light in the winter woods does give dramatic cinematic appeal to the scene.)


The rest of the gang takes the other approach, on the south side of the fallen tree, where only one Troll has gone, and that Troll is about to have a "Oh, @*%$$&#!!!" moment when he realizes there's a whole cavalry troop charging his way.

The Shaman realizes the battle is on, but leaves himself exposed as he awakens one more troll!  Petra takes advantage of this, shoots at the shaman from above, and wounds him.  Cursing, the shaman retreats under the canopy of an evergreen, making it hard for her to target him again, but also making it harder for him to reach the next slumbering troll.
 

         With his Agnon and shield at the ready, the Dwarven Patre spurrs his mount into a
charge (if the path is clear) in order to engage the first live Ogre that his
stygian hued orbs fall upon . . .  (Arctos atop his mount charges the rock troll in
grid 23/G1 . . .  as Arctos Has Mounted Combat).  The dour Dwarf atop his mighty steed,
and with prejudice in the extreme in his heart, levels his lance at his declared foe in the
hopes of skewering him through and through!

        After having made his charge (attack) against the Troll, and having passed the vile
creature by afterwards, Arctos shall dismount and attack the closest adversary available
. . .
This message was last edited by the player at 07:50, Wed 05 Dec 2012.

In reply to Arctos (msg # 11):

Demus slams his staff on the snow and shouts "Serve me" as 3 wolves appear with dark streaks through their gray fur surrounding the summoner howling they lunge at the summoner and generally trying to distract him. A black cat by Demus' legs lets a hiss out as the wolves appears.
OOC: wolf sheet and fiendish template
Wolf

Size/Type: Medium Animal
Hit Dice: 2d8+4 (13 hp)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 50 ft. (10 squares)
Armor Class: 14 (+2 Dex, +2 natural), touch 12, flat-footed 12
Base Attack/Grapple: +1/+2
Attack: Bite +3 melee (1d6+1)
Full Attack: Bite +3 melee (1d6+1)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Trip
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
Saves: Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +1
Abilities: Str 13, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Hide +2, Listen +3, Move Silently +3, Spot +3, Survival +1*
Feats: TrackB, Weapon Focus (bite)
Environment: Temperate forests
Organization: Solitary, pair, or pack (7-16)
Challenge Rating: 1
Advancement: 3 HD (Medium); 4-6 HD (Large)
Level Adjustment: —

Fiendish abillitys link http://www.d20srd.org/srd/mons...fiendishCreature.htm

Callidus takes advantage of the obscuring fog and slides through the mist as stealthily as he can while shifting into his were-form, making his way through to the shaman awakening the trolls.

The mist makes it easier, as its harder to make him out as he dives between the available cover. He wishes he was invisible, as it would make him quite a degree more undetectable than sneaking would.

He wouldn't escape from the wrath of Callidus. None of them would. The elves of Beda need revenge, and he might as well be the one to deliver it for them. He makes his way through, using the wreckage as cover as he gets closer to his mark.

He also takes advantage of the mist and removes the mask he took from his last encounter with a shaman of this type, pulling the mask over his face.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:16, Tue 04 Dec 2012.

Having noticed a treehouse in the north-western direction just before the mist obscured visibility Brannoc sneaked to that direction, arrow ready on the string, using foliage and mist as cover. He planned to shoot at first humanoid shapes he would spot in that direction as they presumably would not be friendlies.