Dawn: Northending
Councillor Karolin looked out on the glowing lights of the city below her. She shivered in the predawn stillness of the Council chambers. The chill winds of late fall whipped flurrying snow through the streets and rattled the glass window panes, hinting ominously at a bitter winter to come. Throughout the town, the week-long celebration of the rescue of the Egg was slowly dying down, the pent-up frustrations of generations breaking loose in seven days of feasting, and revelry; Chaos echoing in the very heart of Law.
Sighing, she feared that it may well be the last merriment she or any other High Council member witnessed for a long time, possibly the rest of her life. Other than those of the council and the weary adventurers, none knew exactly what the Egg was or the magnitude of the quest that regained it; only that it was a time to be glad.
For once, ignorance was good. For none here yet knew that Fairway had fallen without a fight and that it would not be long before a sober Northending and even New Empyrea itself would be threatened.
"Sharkel will be a difficult man to replace," whispered councillor Ekrubage, who had come up silently behind her, "Gurney has recommended a youth from Nimbortan, but I will defer to your wisdom".
"Falx arrived," the pale wizard continued, "he could barely fly. Sillitellimut may be months healing...I...I wish we could have saved Alice. The siege engines at Fairway took them each down with a single shot. My assistants are analyzing the bolt we took out of Falx, without even touching it I could almost smell magic and Evil."
"The Egg must be returned to its nest." she replied absently.
"It's not going to fly there."
"Pardon me?... oh, yes. Forgive me." The silence lasted until the the distant horizon began to pale. At last Karolin spoke.
"Send Curry to wake them gently. I fear we must impose upon them once again," the warmth of yet another sad sigh fogged the pane.

Early the next morning, Councilor Karolin of the High Council of Northending approaches the party with another request. She informs them that Falx is unable to fly the Egg to Doc's Island as they had discussed earlier. He was severely injured while flying reconaissance over Fairway and will not be able to fly long distances for quite some time. The Egg must be returned immediately.
The Council has determined that an overland route to the west coast, through the Charwood and over the High Peaks would be shorter and wiser. The Tangg-lord's grip beyond the Firedrake mountains is looser in the north. A small merchant caravan should be able to slide through unnoticed. A ship will be waiting at Clam Cove, south of Shell to take the party to Doc's Island, where the Egg can once again be put to nest.
The Egg is to be given to the near mythical hero, Doc, who is reputed to have been a veteran of the War of Ending nearly two centuries ago. Magical communications with him have ensured that he is aware that the PCs are coming. Doc will place the Egg back into its shrine.
The Council provides (within reason) for all the basic needs of the caravan; warm clothing, food, drink, grain and fodder for the animals, and repairs or replacements to weapons and armour (not magical items) lost in the previous mission. The High Council suggests that the party do whatever it can to disguise its true nature. For example, typical caravan guards do not wear full plate armour and it's uncommon to see any in anything heavier than scale with ring mail being far more common. Any displays of magical power are likely to draw the attention of Garythane spies and endanger the mission.
The caravan consists of three ox-drawn wagons, one bearing six large kegs of dwarven ale (although one barrel is specially lead-lined and contains the Egg), a second containing travel supplies and trade goods, and a third enclosed cook wagon with a private chamber for personal needs enroute.
Six oxen pull each wagon (total of 18) (AC 7; HD 3; hp 20; Move 12"). Up to a dozen standard riding horses are provided for the party and their followers, henchmen or hirelings (the latter limited to those necessary to drive the animals and carry out the basic tasks associated with the caravan).
The recommended route is north through the Charwood to the northwestern mountain range known as the High Peaks, through 'Bandit Pass' and on to a small, ruin-ringed harbor known as Clam Cove. Here, a ship will be waiting to take you to Doc's Island.
The humans to be encountered along the route will be mostly aligned with Neutrality; but, in general, will be favorable to New Empyrea and its causes. The people of Enders' Glen are isolationists opposed to anything that might escalate the tensions between Garythane and New Empyrea.

Preparations complete, the caravan prepares to set out on the journey across northern New Empyrea. A snow squall mars the morning of departure making the steep trail down the mountain even more slippery. It is not until the party has been travelling for an hour that an old man pokes his head out of the enclosed wagon and impatiently asks if they have reached their destination yet....

"Who in the abyss are you!?"
Skrufulus had gained a lot of confidence since he was first rescued from the stone coffin three months before. New armour, weapons, and Prudence as mentor had transformed the half orc into a new man.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:21, Thu 17 Nov 2011.

Reacting to her henchman's words of alarm, Prudence drew her massive long bow with the assistance of her magical leather gauntlets and held an arrow ready to fire.
"Yes, speak quickly or find yourself impaled!"

"Oh come on!" a disembodied voice drifts across with obvious annoyance.
"Not another human!"

Triladir sighed as the sword added its views, the thing never had anything useful to say and she wished it would just shut up. "We have other new friends, what's one more?" she said. The stowaway would prove either beneficial of fodder for the warriors to show off their muscles... again.  She was uncomfortable wearing 'normal' clothes and wished she could wear her robes. Only her backpack marked her as slightly different from the standard winter attired traveler. Shivering she pulled the sheepskin coat closer around her, it was warmer than her robe she had to admit.

"Ummm, HUMAN? Where's all the elves gone in this world? Somebody put me back into the caves if this is what I have to put up with outside. No class to be found anywhere!"

From a spot beneath the noticed of the many, and the view, Fenube glances upward.

"Oah, humans, elves, all you tall people look the same to me, cept'in that the humans keep their nostrils cleaner. Aiye!"

The gnome, who stood shorter then people sat, seemed particularly fragile sitting lower then most people even knew existed.

Ironic considering the thin crane-decorated pink kimono wrapped around the gnomes soft shoulders, and the long stretch of one smooth mocha colored leg all of which were braving the harsh elements.

"Have any of you a drop of natures natural insulation?"

Head tipped back, violaceous eye peered over the brim of a lutescent, feathered floppy hat. Long honey golden hair with strands of razor-red in three thin stripes framing the soft, not-quite child like face, brimming with feigned innocence.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:31, Wed 23 Nov 2011.

Following along toward the end of the caravan, Bregor hums a traveling song to himself but loud enough for other to hear.  Occasioanlly, he even appears to laugh at himself.

At the sight of the face sticking out of the wagon he bellows; "Hello now, be patient my kind sir.  The journey is still many miles ahead of us.  Please be patient but do tell us who you are.  I for one always enjoy good company on a journey, so please do tell."

"I guess someone missed the, 'disguise our true nature' advice?" said Triladir looking down at the gnome. "On the plus side perhaps no-one will see you down there..."

Athelstan stood back, somewhat uncomfortable in the scale armour he'd started out with way back as a squire. He intended to observe what happened and act accordingly.

"Falx!" Jeremiah proclaimed joyfully when he recognised the stowaway.
"I thought you were wounded, laid up recovering!?"
"What are you doing here?"

"Do you really think I wont be noticed? How dreadful"

A shiver runs down the spine of the gnome that has nothing to do with the chilly weather. A quick wink at the stunning red-head shows that no real feeling were harmed in the creation of this moment. Tyae!

"I will teach you a little lesson about not appearing too noticeable, Tri. Never, ever look like your trying to appear un-noticable!"

A chuckle like bells echoes across the snow.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:55, Thu 24 Nov 2011.

Laughing loudly at the gnome; "Now that is odd way to desribe not to get noticed."  I have the same problem" Bregor says slapping his rather large belly, "I am very hard to forget also."

"At least I will always have shade on a sunny day, Bregor!"

In reply to Jeremiah (msg #13):

"On the way to Doc's Island, just like you of course!"
"Now will somebody please tell me if we're there yet, we've been going for hours!"

Suddenly overwhelmed by the revelation of the dragon amongst them, Athelstan dropped to his knees, sword held before him point down in the cold earth.
"You do us all great honour."
"To be graced with the presence of one so great as you..."
He trailed off, words failing to convey his feelings.

" Someone always has to one up me, don't they? " the gnome says of the dragon.

Athelstan was right of course, a dragon among them could not go unrecognized, though he wished such introductions could have been in made in private.

It was one thing to show some leg, entirely something else to go about the woods shouting your destination and acting as if you have someone along with you that might earn a hefty ransom.

Still, what's done is done...

With a deep bow and a sweep of the feathery hat, Fenube echoes the Paladin's fine words.

In reply to Falx Templamut (msg #18):

"Not all of us can fly or even walk fast, as you can see there are all sorts in this caravan today." Natasha spoke quietly.

"Our friend in the ridiculous full plate almost fits in for once." she gestured to Jeremiah, who had added some colours to his plate to make it appear less serious than the perfectly interlocking steel that it was.

"I take it you are enjoying the trip?" She asked everyone.

His laugh dying away at the mention of a dragon, Bregor takes in the compotion and disscussion for a minute before he realizes that the person in front of him is actually the dragon everyone is refering to.

"Good sir" he says with a bow.

Triladir also made her respects to Falx. It was sad that such a powerful and glorious being had been reduced to this mode of transport. His wounds must be grievous indeed to subject himself to this ignominy. On the plus side he would be able to help them should they encounter misfortune along the way.  Something that seemed to befall them every time they stepped out the door. Shivering, she sped up a little to make sure she was in the middle of the troop. Her deadly encounter with the assassin was still to recent to take lightly.

Eventually somebody explains to Falx that travelling via wagon can take not minutes, even hours to cross a continent, but weeks. In this case he distance before the party puts the expected time to reach the coastline at around 14 days, provided all goes well and the weather stays fine.
Somewhat dejected, the dragon withdraws into the wagon to sulk, mumbling something about the horror of being land bound.

Light snow continues to fall throughout the remainder of the day, blown about by gusty winds through the mountain peaks. Another day should see you past the mountains and into the foothills before entering the Charwood Forest and heading for Ender Glen.

Unfortunately during the first night on the road, the snow kicks up into a full blown blizzard - do you try to push on risking exposure for the oxen and horses (and yourselves), or try to sit it out in the minimal shelter of a rocky outcropping found the evening before?

Jeremiah called the group together in the caravan - not that that was necessary for most because it was plain miserable outside.
"Ladies and Gents, I suggest we stay and try to sit out this storm. I don't really see a lot of benefit to be had in fighting nature for each step. What do you all think?"

"I must disagree, Jeremiah. As yummy as you are, I don't relish having to feast on sentient sandwiches if the cold outlasts our supplies."

The young gnome sits in slightly warmer clothes then the day before, wrapped in a blanket of short reddish fur. Sipping from a warm glass of tea smelling lightly of cinnamon and apples, Fenube offers a thought.

"We have just begun our journey, perhaps we should head back to purchase more suitable supplies?"

"What about using magic to clear the way, or calm the storm, or at least keep the animals warm?"
Concern for animals was rubbing off on him from his patron the Ranger, Prudence.

"You're a druid aren't you?" he asked of Bregor.
"Don't you have power over nature or something?"

"What about you Triladir, can't you conjure up a shelter or some blankets?"

"No... and I didn't bring a boat either. I guess I'm just not an outdoor type really." said Triladir. "And what Sir Gnome would you think of as suitable supplies that would be worth delaying our trip longer than necessary? Unless Prudence feels differently, I am of the same opinion as Jeremia, we sit this out.  We can use the wagons to shelter the livestock and ourselves."

"Unfortunatly, I can make some fire and control local weather.  This is beyond my ability....." he says stepping into the wind and sniffing at the air.

"What we need is a cave to shelter in..." Athelstan commented wryly, his teeth already beginning to chatter despite the cloak wrapped tightly around his body.

A rattling noise pierced through Natasha's meditations and awoke her to the realisation thatshe was really, really cold. And that Athelstan's teeth made an impressive noise.
"Jeremiah," she began "Be a hero and take the coldest people into your cube of force for a while to block out the wind will you?"

In reply to Natasha (msg #32):

"Erm," The paladin had forgotten he had it, to be honest, and this showed in the tint of his cheeks, now a red to match his garish armour.

"A solid point. Who is suffering the most?" He asked of the group, scanning faces as he did so for signs of hypothermia more acute than the party average.

Nose still in the wind, he nods in agreement with Natasha.  "This weather is unusually cold for this latitude.  I don't detect anything abnormal with the storm.  It should pass by early afternoon, still it will drop a lot of snow on us."

Turning back toward the party; "we should take shelter and rotate people and animals into the protection of Jeremiah's magic and possibly the wagons."

Recognizing a sound plan when one is discussed, Fenube takes the time to get out of the way of anything that might resemble manual labor, while keeping an eye to the surrounding for anything that might find the snow a reason to take advantage of their distress.

The cube proves a bit less useful than initially hoped for. With the first side activated, it keeps out wind and gas, but that also means the air supply is not continually refreshed - the field has to be dropped every half hour or so to dispose of the stale air and let in new. It does however, along with the three wagons, act as an efficient wind break, although it only covers a ten foot long section.

As Bregor predicted, the blizzard dies down around midday after dumping approximately two feet of snow. Setting out now should get the party three to four more miles before dusk, much less than could be expected if the path was clear. Fourtunately all the animals survived the blizzard although all are shivering and suffering from varying levels of exposure.

OOC: Everyone takes 2 HP damage from the cold.

Discussion of options and a suggestion from Falx soon have the party back in motion, Bregor leading with a circular wall of fire around him turning snow banks to steam but leaving the path somewhat slippery with water. Another hazard is identified when the wagons fall a little too far behind and the water refreezes into slick ice - easy enough to avoid as long as the wagons follow closely behind and the temperature doesn't drop much lower.
By nightfall an impressive 6 miles have been covered for the day, less than the day before but an astounding distance given the morning was spent stationary and the snow.

That night the temperature remains below freezing, but fires both magical and mundane avoid any losses of livestock. With dawn comes more snow and freezing cold, lighter and somewhat warmer than the day before, but as the day progresses, nice dry snow turns to wet sleet and slush.

The melted snow clears the path, however Fenube isn't totally sure the mud isn't worse, and not just because it might stain the Gnome's fine kid leather boots.

Despite these concerns, the sinking of the wheels into the mud has minimal impact. In fact,Fenube decided, the day seemed well enough spent traveling the distance they have.

The sight of a cavern or other cover to camp in was sorely missed however.

"The temperature will drop after dark, we need to consider our four legged friends, or they might be three legged by sunrise."

After the wagons are circled, and the animals unhitched, the Gnome kneels down, and blows warm air between gentle hands. The warm air collects, whirling about, then begins to glow. Released, the ball of warmth rolls around in the snows, as as it goes the snow melts in moisture that is itself evaporated in turn.

"That is a start."

Next a small coin purse is retrieved and opened. Slowly, stretching from its confinement, the shadowy form of a winged-reptile gathers its bearings, then takes a place atop one of the wagons, though it veers away from the man-dragon's abode.

Though it has no features, a general sense of alertness can be felt in its posture.

The cracking of knuckles, high pitched like wind chimes, announces the fact that the young illusionist is about to try something a bit more... impressive.

Rhythmic hand movements, like a skilled conductor directing a fine orchestra generates the gentle sounds of birds chirping, and a babbling brook. Whirling like a dervish, the movements become more elaborate, as the wagons are painted bright gay colors, the ground grows a lush two inches of grass, with flowers here... and here... and here.

Several butterflies float out of Natasha's hair, and a small red bird lands atop one of the wagon. The air grows less chilly, becoming even comfortable, though not warm.

"Don't let the temperature fool you, though our minds are here, our bodies are still in the cold. It is more a escape, I hope, from the stress of the day then the dangers inherent in our situation."

Any who glance beyond the wagons spot the edges of the illusion beyond a fish filled moat coursing around the camps perimeter. Beyond the snow covered trees and rocks beyond them are no less imposing however.

The joyous dance comes to an end as a very proud Fenube spends a content moment collecting stray hairs and gathering composure.

"Could someone gather some firewood?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:56, Fri 16 Dec 2011.

Jeremiah strode out into the pleasant air and resisted the temptation to breathe in what he knew to be freezing air.

"Amazing." the words escaped his mouth. "Simply amazing."

He took a minute to enjoy the scene before getting back to mundane preparations. The addition of an illusionist to the party had proved an excellent move, and the Paladin found himself enjoying Fenube's company.

"I'll fetch some wood. Bregor, you coming along?" He asked the druid.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:30, Wed 21 Dec 2011.

Natasha smiled faintly at Fenube and moved back into the caravan without a word. She was not well known to be overly cheerful but it was clear to those who knew her that she was happy.

The third day out should see the party clear of the mountains and into the forested foothills around midday according to those with a little more familiarity of the region than Brutus, Jeremiah, Natasha and Prudence. Even the biting cold, stormy weather and slushy sleet can't seem to significantly slow the party's plodding progress throughout the morning.

From time to time the clouds clear just enough to show you a glimpse of what's to come lower down the trail until finally the treeline is spotted by the scouts Skrufulus and Prudence. Cantering ahead on the narrow trail, the search into the vegetation for possible ambush as the reminder of the group continue at the ox wagons slow but steady pace.

SUDDENLY, the earth erupts on either side of the lead wagon. Antenna, mandibles and chitinous claws are seen ripping into the flesh of the oxen, blood, gore and the screams of the wounded and panicked animals churning the air into chaos!

OOC: the party (less Natasha) is utterly surprised at this attack from below. Both Althelstan and Jeremiah are on horseback within twenty or so yards of the carnage, Natasha, Triladir and Driver No 1 are almost within touching distance and there is a gap of approximately ten yards between the wagons in front and the lead oxen of the following wagon - that puts the wagons themselves at about 20 yards (roughly 3 yards per pair of oxen).
Once Natasha has had an action, everyone may roll initiative (D10) and post their intentions.

His attention focused on outside threats, Athelstan was completely unprepared for the sudden violence from within. He struggled to retain his seat on his equally surprised horse, all thought of reacting to the threat temporarily forced from his mind.

A blur of monk sped towards the left and the beast's antennae swayed in the sudden breeze.
Damn vampires... too weak.
She retained her wits as ever but her aim was always a little off and blows slightly weaker since the incident with the vampire not so long ago. Straightening herself and narrowing her eyes she studied the monster and decided to circle it to strike from behind when she had a chance.

Jeremiah was puzzled...
The creatures came from a very unexpected direction. On top of this, Paramel jerked about in his hands like a fish out of water, unsure of which direction to strike. Equus, however, made that decision for him, and veered for the closer target that Natasha had already missed. She had a habit of getting in over her head.
"Nat, don't be a fool!" He yelled as he got his bearings.

With a speed only a monk or somebody with magical assistance could achieve, Natasha leapt from her seat and into barehanded combat with one of the creatures.
The creature, facing utter destruction at the hands of the diminutive girl chooses to completely ignore her ineffectual slapping and kicking at it's hard and unyielding exoskeleton, continuing it's own assault on the panicked ox before it.

All may act normally now. Roll D10 for initiative, modify by speed factor, spell casting times, etc and post your intentions.

Rapidly regaining control of his startled horse, Athelstan urged it into combat, his sword flicking out of it's scabard, and shield held ready. Showing his prowess as a horseman, he guided it using only his knees, and ordered the warhorse to join in the attack.


Athelstan
Initiative 11
Riding to the attack

A high pitched scream of terror emanates from the rear of the convoy!

"What, by the three and a half hells of Hica is that?!?"

Suddenly the wagon feels less the haven it had a moment ago. The little gnome rams on the brakes and rolls out onto the snow, advancing quickly, but with care.

when the distance between the two is diminished, the gnome drops to one knee, and grabs the medallion that dangles in the opening of the azure and aureate kimono which exposes a hint of soft flesh to the world, closing both frightened eyes tightly...
This message was last edited by the player at 06:39, Thu 12 Jan 2012.

"Will you just get on with it?" the sword complained at the Paladin.
"There's the creature, swing your arm at it!"

For all the time in the bad weather Trilardir had done nothing except try and keep warm.  The cold had seemingly dulled her thoughts as well as action.  The sudden attack took her totally by surprise and she was slow in reacting.  Then she did as her voice echoed with the strange arcane syllables whilst her hand wove complicated gestures she brought the might of her magic to bear, though at first the effects seemed less than dramatic.

18:36, Today: Triladir rolled 10 using 1d10+2. init. (including dex and spell casting mods

In reply to Triladir (msg #48):

Equus was now on a beeline for the monster on the left, and Jeremiah let the horse do the navigating as he obliged Paramel. His arm cut the words short as he sent the blade forward with the intention of scabbarding it in the flesh of the creature.

Natasha circled the beast as much to avoid the Paladin's charge as to gain a tactical advantage. As it chewed on the beast of burden she moved in to give it a solid kick, hoping to hit something remotely sensitive this time.

NPC'd
Brutus, still struggling to come to grips with the effects of his recent "accident" with a wish, finally fires off several magical missiles at one of the creatures.

Brutus
Initiative 2
Magic missile @ left creature - 10 points

NPC'd
Way back at the rear, Bregor was almost out of sight of the action when it started. Spurring his horse, he sought to catch up as quickly as possible and join in with repelling the assault.

Brutus, while perhaps not the first to work out what was going on, is the first to complete his action. Three missiles stream from his hands and impact with a flash on the creature Natasha was attacking.
A few moments later Natasha kicked out twice, the first strike glancing off harmlessly, he second nearly breaking her own foot!
Meanwhile, Fenube reaches past the wagon driver, hits the brakes and rolls over the edge into the snow and slush. Picking himself up, he takes only a couple of steps forward before calling on his diety. A wave of energy wafts over the area soon after.
In response to being stung by Brutus, the creature spins around and swipes at Natasha, the obvious (but incorrect) source of it's discomfort. Fortunately she is able to dodge the attack with relative ease.
Over on the right side, the second creature has a firm hold on the scond oxen on that side and is just starting to pull it under the ground (along with the animals harnessed around it) when Paramel, assisted by Jeremiah, cleaves it's head from it's body with one MIGHTY swing.
At that point Triladir gets off her spell with the effect of all the surviving oxen and the remaining creature being slowed.
Athelstan, arrives on the scene at that point having shrugged off the effects of the spell. Unfortunately his his did not and his swing goes wide as his mount rapidly decelerates.
Bregor, way at the rear manages to pass Triladir and Fenube and reach the second wagon by the end of the round.

Notes: All are effected by Prayer
Enemy plus Oxen and Athelstan's horse effected by Slow

Next round, one wounded (and annoyed) creature remaining

Startled at the gore and violence that had erupted Fenube is slow to move, but once momentum has been acquired the gnome moves swiftly to the lead oxen of the second wagon, and begins to speak to it.

[Language unknown: "Iou ioel perent ular, toan hepo, T se ekin lar wi wecehe"]

Gauging the relationship between the second wagon and the remaining monster, Fenube coaxes the lead oxen of the second wagon a short, but safe distance away from danger.

"You know what to do..." Jeremiah acknowledged Equus, who then began weaving through the chaos to the surviving beast. Paramel was still coated in ichor and impatient for the next creature.

Speedily Natasha changed tactics, and the 'chick chick chick' of the ratchet loading mechanism of her heavy crossbow joined the din. If the creature survived the next few seconds she would see how it's hide stood up against a bolt from the blue...
"Jeremiah - to one side!" She called in warning.

Looking back over his shoulder as he went Jeremiah's eyes widened at the thought of danger from behind as well as in front and the place between his shoulder blades began to itch. He urged Equus to one side of the path between the monk and the monster as he grew closer to melee.

Athelstan lets out a muffled curse as his mount slows and his swing goes wide.  Urging his tortoise of a mount to one side, his swings at the creature again.

Running as fast as his short legs can carry him through the snow, Fenube approaches the animals with the aim of calming them down.
Meanwhile, Natasha attempts to withdraw from melee to allow Athelstan and his horse room to fight, while readying her crossbow for action.
Across the ox team, Jeremiah urges Equus around the front to join Athelstan in the onslaught.
The creature moves slowly back into the ground. If not for Triladir's spell it would have made it's escape, but instead, Athelstan's sword slashes out inflicting a nasty wound and dropping it stone cold dead.

The immediate danger is now past. One ox is dead (right side, second in line) and another slightly wounded. All five surviving beasts are extremely agitated (but Slowed by Tril's spell).

"by the seven stripes of a dead cat's tail, that was amazing!"

Glancing at Athelstan with an impressed (and admiring) glance, Fenube continues toward the lead Oxen of the second wagon.

The sounds of battle reached Prudence and Skrfulus through the trees. With a meaningful glance to the half-orc, she wheeled her horse around and galloped back up the slope. The pair broke out into the open just as Athelstan finished off the second creature.

"Anhkhegs? Here?" she exclaimed in shock as the pair pulled up near the atill panicked oxen.

"Is that what these armor-bugs are called?"  Athelstan took a moment to swipe his sword clean on the edge of his cloak.  "We've problems enough without evil springing up from under our feet.  Best we move from here swiftly lest they have allies in the soil."

"No doubt they do. They usually live in more fertile earth than this, farmland mainly. I don't understand why they'd be here in the foothills."
"They're basically unintelligent but extremely dangerous to both man and beast. We should investigate their tunnels and ensure there are no more left to prey on less capable travellers in these dark times of war."

Natasha and the wagon driver, assisted by Fenube soon have the five surviving animals back under control and somewhat less excited. It required cutting loose the dead beast and forcing the others to pull the wagon up and over the bodies of the giant insects, but once a few dozen yards had been put between the oxen and the scene of the carnage the job became much easier.

Of course that still leaves two more wagons to negotiate the narrow trail and bodies, not to mention rather large holes in the ground currently blocked up by insects...

"Is there any value in the body parts? Perhaps might there be treasure worth pursuing in their tunnels?" Fenube asks of Prudence, supposing her knowledge of the creatures name and natural habitat might lead to more information.

"More to the point, do they usually run in packs of more then two; I certainly hope they do not travel in numbers similar to the ants (or the aunts) in my uncle Frillibert's backyard!"

As to the issue of the holes in the ground, the gnome has no useful suggests to offer at this time.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:44, Fri 20 Jan 2012.

Jeremiah vaulted to the ground from Equus's saddle, and after patting the great beast's flank he palmed a sugar cube for his companion.

Horse satisfied, munching away, Jeremiah tilted his head in Prudence's direction and concurred "We had indeed best investigate, in case there are more as you say. Pilgrims or merchants would not fare so well, unless very strongly escorted."

On that note Natasha unloaded her large weapon, re packed it and strode over to the hole occupied by the beast Athelstan slew. She leaned over it, and prodded inquisitively at a gap in the chitinous exoskeleton.

"I suggest," she postulated, "That we tie one of them to some ox and pull it out of the hole. Then we can go down and see what else if anything lurks beneath these hills."

She turned to her companions "Are we agreed to go down there?"

NPC'd
"I'll stay up here with Falx and the three drivers and tend to the animals. The first team could do with my help after the stress they've suffered."

Athelstan nodded.  "If ye think Falx and Bregor can keep the caravan secure, then I'll go hunting under the earth."  Athelstan hops down off his mount and slowly, for there is no other way until the spell wears off, leads him to one of the wagons and secures him there.

"I don't really know anything specifically, but I have heard of weapons, armour and shield being made from their shells and mages apparently have some use for other softer parts."

"Not packs as such but as these two seem to be small for the species, my guess is they are still juveniles. There's a chance the mother may be inside, perhaps with more young."
"Their father gave it's life so they would have food to eat after hatching."
A most disagreeable mating outcome in her opinion, but better the male than female acting as both incubator and first meal.

Brutus looks over the creatures trying to remember if he knows of any spells that could use any of their parts.

"Small you say?, Prudence, then I don't want to meet momma, not alone anyhow. I'll go with you into the tunnels if that is the decision of the group, but most of my arcana will prove less useful in confined spaces.  If we are to do this, let us go now while we have the edge of surprise"

He will help whoever is working to pull one the creatures away to open a path into the tunnels.

"Paramel," Jeremiah addressed his weapon,
"Would you hasten our descent by moving this critter out of the tunnel entrance?"
The sword's telekinesis had already come in useful, as Athelstan may have been told...

The thought that these monsters were 'small' seemed particularly humorous to the 3'5" bundle of joy.

The thought of going down under the ground after mama, was not.

"I suspect this is more of a task for larger folks with pointy things. If the rest of you don't mind, I think I'll stay up here under the sun, and work out a few ideas I have with the assistance of Falx and Bregor."

In reply to Jeremiah (msg #72):

"You owe me big!" the sword declared, the last creature slain already wriggling out of it's burrow.
"Where you want it?" the sword asked again, stress and effort punctuating the words.

Out of the hole and suspended in mid air by the swords powerful magic, the creature could be seen in all it's awful glory. Chitinous exoskeleton armoured every part of it's massive body, only the belly showing any sign of weakness. But even there the flesh was covered by thick, leatherlike bands.

The hole it came from was all of four feet in diameter, just large enough for the creature. The edges crumbled, but the rocky ground seemed to indicate the tunnel below would be relatively safe.

Falx popped his human head out the front of the covered wagon and called out.
"What's going on? Why have we stopped?"
"Put that thing down somewhere and lets get moving or it'll take us all day!"
Clearly the dragon still hadn't managed to grasp the glacial slowness of ground bound transportation.

"If you give me a few minutes, perhaps I can find out what is below without risk. I have a spell that will enable me to search from afar." said Triladir.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," she replied cheerfuly, glad that they may not need to crawl about under the earth afterall. The thought of a tunnel collapse or facing another, larger anhkheg armed with small, light weapons dictated by the confined location did not appeal to her in the slightest.

Brutus doesn't say anything, but moves over near Tril', and watches to see what spell she casts, the words, and the effects of the spell.

Jeremiah told Paramel "About ten feet from the hole should serve purpose. Too near and it may collapse in...
His attention then went to Triladir, keen to learn more.

Triladir takes a small piece of fur from her belt pouch and holding it her hand began the gestures and arcane words, sounds and syllables that made up the spell.  On it's completion she staggered slightly, as if off balance, before she closed her eyes. Of the spell effect there was no sign of any change.

"Going down the hole." she said softly, her concentration obviously elsewhere.

"Down the hole we go, then." The paladin calmly spoke. He peered down into the dark, and thrust Paramel before him to light up the floor and spot a safe place to hop in.

As he was doing so, he added for good sense "I don't suppose you want to enlighten us as to what your spell revealed?" to the mage.

"Wait! Give me time!" the mage snapped at Jeremiah, her eye still closed as she concentrated on the job in hand.

"Sorry." the Paladin grinned. He had a propensity for over enthusiasm when it came to monster hunting sometimes.

Minutes passed as Triladir concentrated on manipulating her spell.
Meanwhile Bregor began his examination and dissection of the Anhkheg Paramel had deposited just off the trail.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:46, Thu 26 Jan 2012.

"She meant her vision was going down the hole Jeremiah, an easy thing to misunderstand if you are used to such things."

Fenube gave the Paladin a smile he was no doubt used to, with those dimples, those eyes, and oh that smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:57, Thu 26 Jan 2012.

Triladir relates what her spy shows her, "The shaft opens out in to six foot diameter tunnel about fifteen down from the surface.  We'll need a rope or magic to get down safely and back up again.....

The tunnel moves downhill towards the treeline about the same depth with occasional shafts lead upwards.....

Wait! There's a larger chamber ahead. I can see three large ankhkegs perhaps there are more...

Damn! The spell's expired."

The mage opened her eyes again, blinking in the light.

"Triladir, could you see about how big that last chamber was?  I'm wondering if it would contain a fireball, we could just burn them up and be on our way...."

"No I couldn't tell before the spell expired." the mage answered. "But I can say that the tunnel goes for at least 200' and relatively straight.  It would be ideal for lightning bolts if the ankhkegs were lured into it, perhaps by an illusion or something?"

"Maybe rolling it's little bouncing baby boy's head down there would work too? Given it's multifaceted eyes, I'm not sure I could craft an illusion sophisticated enough to work. Though I am willing to try, if nothing else works..."

"Do I have to do all the thinking around here?" the sword declared irritably.
"Put a fireball down the hole."

"I'm bored. How about a little less conversation, a little more action, as the immortal swiveling bard once said. All I want to know is; when all of you go down into that hole, are you taking the baby down with you, are leaving it up here with a handful of us?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
By 'the baby', I mean the priceless artifact we are conveying...

---

"Bregor is staying behind and so is Falx. What better protector than a silver dragon?"

"Your name belies your bravado, dear Prudence. It seems that those who planned our trip felt that we were required on top of he-who-should-not-be-discussed-out-here-in-public.
"But I, for one, will not gainsay you. If wander into the earths frigid rectum you must, I will be waiting here anxiously for your victorious return."

Expecting this to take at least a short while, Fenube gathers the wagons into a circle, and unhitches the oxen, placing out some feed for them, and melting them some water.

Brutus thinks for only a short time about it.

"Very well, someone lower me to tunnel floor and be ready, I'll toss a fireball at them but may need a hasty exit..plus don't be over tunnels in case they collapse"

Once all are ready he will execute the plan

Ooc: sorry for not posting, I'm on the bus heading home from NYC two days and.four hours sleep, what a great city

Natasha began tying the mage up as the words left his mouth. He had just volunteered, and the practical monk wasn't giving him time to change his mind. She tightened the ropes to the edge of comfort, tied the free end to a wagon and summarily jerked Brutus to test the rope.

Then she gave the rope four feet slack, positioned the absailee and pushed.

With just a touch of "encouragement" from Natasha, Brutus makes his way down into the darkness. Rocks and loose earth slow his movement significantly, the danger of the decent readily apparent as rubble thumps to the bottom of the shaft below.
Approximately a minute into the climb, and with Brutus' head swallowed up by the gloom, the line suddenly goes tight - he's slipped and fallen! Natasha though is up to the task, her powerful hands clamping tight around the rope, her legs and back straining against the sudden weight. Besides a drop of a few short inches, and the sudden pounding of Brutus' heart almost audible even to those above, disaster is averted.
Moments later however his feet touch bottom - the fall would have only dropped him another foot or two and resulted in little more than bruised pride.

Now at the bottom of the shaft, a fatal flaw in the plan becomes apparent. There is little light for him to see by and his vision is limited to just a few feet. He could still try casting the fireball down the tunnel, however the dangers of premature detonation due to impact are very high...

Fishing a glowing gem from her belt pouch, Prudence stepped towards the hole and tossed it in. Almost instantly the bottom of the hole was lit up like day, and Brutus could see nearly sixty feet down the tunnel.
"That help?"
"Don't forget to pick it up when you're done."

Brutus was reaching for his wand when suddenly things light up.  Maybe too much.  But he looks around, and noticing something.  Unties the rope and begins to move forward.  He leaves the light where it is.

After ten feet, he reaches down as if to draw a sword, that isn't there, and stops.

This has been harder than he imagined. In the silence of the tunnel, he thinks to himself....stay the course, stay to the plan.

Two deep breathes later, he begins to conjure, a spark of fire that grows into a swirling mass....

Brutus steps forward out of sight out of the dribbles of freezing mud in order to investigate something that caught his eye. A few moments later the sound of spellcasting wafts upwards to those still in daylight.
Those above hear the unmistakable sound of the pea sized embryo of the spell darting down the tunnel before EXPLODING in flames. Gysers of steam, dirt, smoke and flame shoot up from the ground from locations up to several hundred yards away!
From below is heard the sound of a somewhat panicked Brutus, suddenly realising blowback and overpressure is a bitch. A gush of hot air pushes up out of the hole, those above barely managing to pull back from the edge with just seared eyebrows as a pillar of flame shoots up into the air at least fifty feet!

"I do love the exact moment when a plan does whatever our plan to remain inconspicuous just did! So rampant!"

Seeming quite unpressed with the hot, throbbing pillar of flame, Fenube endeavors to keep the beasts of burden calm. And here.

Natasha is Fenube's larger shadow, immediately heading to the beasts and chatting away in a relaxing tone.
"Typical... hasn't changed..." is overheard quietly by those paying attention.

Jeremiah steps cautiously to the hole to see the aftermath.
"Erm... helooo? Brutus?"
He wears a stern expression, marred ever so slightly by an upturn at the corners of his mouth. Brutus was ever so much fun, and Jeremiah heartily loved having the maniacal mage around. He wondered aloud -

"Brutus, old boy, I know you are alright... but are you decent? I don't recall you having flameproof robes, and it may be that I will have to leave you here for there are ladies among us and I cannot permit your rude presence to surface."

He was openly grinning now.

"Impressive." The paladin remarks.  "As subtle as a red dragon with heartburn but impressive."

It is a few tense moments before Brutus staggers back to the "entrance" of the tunnels.  Sooty and steam still wafting from his beard and clothing, he coughs several times before responding.  Leaning over, he digs around in the rubble to find the magical light from Prudence.

"I think that might have got them...." he breaks into a nervous laughter,  "Before the spell, I saw a lot of gold and silver down in that main chamber,  we should check it out to see if any survived the fire, melted gold is gold still....."

Triladir also seemed to be amused by the outcome, Brutus usually lived up to his name in applying his magic skills. Hearing the mention of gold and silver, she hoped that nothing flammable had been in the cavern.

In reply to Brutus (msg #104):

"We should also check and ensure the creatures are fried," Prudence advised prudently, herself struggling to avoid laughing.
"Or maybe another fireball?"
This time she couldn't avoid grinning.

"Stop your snickerin', and come down here and do some good.  Lives are at stake...mostly mine" and then Brutus bursts into fit of laughter.

Then, suddenly, he realizes a bit of his beard is still on fire with embers, and he takes a few moments to snuff it out.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:14, Thu 02 Feb 2012.

As the party banters back and forth, a terrible sound emanates from the tunnel http://www.angelfire.com/al/AL...images/alienscm2.wav
Apparently the spell didn't kill all of them...

"I think you'd better get out of the hole now," Prudence advised, blood draining from her face as she realised the precarious position Brutus was in.

In the strange glowing light of Prudence's object, Brutus backs up to near the entry tunnel, but not directly below, the light from above would affect his vision down the tunnel. tck, tck, tck....time is a funny thing, sometimes an hour seems like a minute, sometimes, a second seems to take an hour, times like this...

Brutus knows where he keeps everything and he more or less, calmly takes a scroll from his pack, one of many, but where he left it.


"Stay away, its about to get ugly down here..." his voice sounds deeper to those above you know him.

And he waits, staring down the tunnel, he is more nervous with this paper than he'd be with a simple peice of steel, yet still, this time he feels that old rising of the blood, his fingers twitch, he glances down and begins to form the words in his mind.

He will wait till they are close.

"He does know Ankhegs can burrow nearly as fast as they walk?" the sword asked Jeremiah.

"I hate it when the sword knows more about things then the people..."

Falx poked his head out of the wagon.
"Or perhaps it's just a little more observant...?"
"These two did appear out of the ground with some small speed after all."

The young gnome sticks a pink tongue out at the nosy busy-body of a man-dragon.

"No one asked the peanut gallery to pitch in. Leave the chatter to the people-people, and focus your attention on grander things, god-like one. Here is a gold piece, go count it a few times..."

With a wink and a grin, Fenube flips a gold coin in the direction of Falx.

Quietly and industriously Natasha tugs the rope to inform her companion that Down Time is now over and it is now Up Time.
Two seconds pass before the surprisingly strong monk jerks him off his feet and hauls him rapidly to the surface.

With nothing more than a raised eyebrow, Falx returns his still badly battered body back into the relative warmth of the cook wagon. Gnomes may taste good for some, but he tried to avoid eating allies...

Natasha strains at the rope, lifting Brutus off his feet just as a rumbling knocks loose clods from teh shaft walls. Although the monk was strong, and the magical gauntlets added significantly to her upper body strength, over 200 pounds of man and his equipment was a serious challenge to lift alone.
Fortunately Prudence was at hand and lent her strength to the rope.

Not quite like a cork from a bottle, Brutus was lifted up out of the hole, slowly at first, then more rapidly as Prudence joined in and he realised he'd have to at least fend himself off the walls.
Barely moments later, as he was passing the halfway point of the shaft, the tunnel wall he'd been in burst open, and the head of an ankheg, even larger than the beast already killed, thrust through to attack the now empty space.


Initiative and actions please....

There being little she could do before the beasts appear, Triladir contented herself by increasing her own security.  Casting a spell to do so, three identical images of the mage appeared making it much harder to determine where she exactly was.

OOC: 16:25, Today: Triladir rolled 56 using 1d100+8. mirror images. (=3 images)
16:24, Today: Triladir rolled 0 using 1d10-2. init.

Natasha kept hauling Brutus's tether, attempting to draw the beast to the surface with the prospect of a tasty juicy mage.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:23, Tue 07 Feb 2012.

Jeremiah stood waiting at the edge of the hole looking down at the ankheg. He held Paramel impatiently. Not willing yo jump fifteen feet down to meet it he had to settle for a threatening look for now.

This must be how a fish feels reeled into a boat, Brutus is thinking as he is hauled quite unceremoniously and rudely from his tunnel.  The rope digs into his midsection, nearly taking his breathe.  Fine, if they want to be the heroes, let them, he had the bugs just where he wanted, and tucks a scroll away, and staggers away from the hole.

With a deep sigh, the young gnome begins to move the wagons a bit further away; when the dimensions of the playing field can be altered at any time by your foe, you can never be too careful.

With Prudence's assistance, Brutus scrambled from the hole, caked in mud and still slightly steaming from the fireball back blast.
Fenube meanwhile, and with the eager assistance of the three teamsters, directs the wagons away from the expected area of combat and further down the hill.
Triladir rapidly casts a spell and is suddenly duplicated. Not even her own mother would be able to tell which of the four is really her.
As Brutus scrabbles out of the way, a giant insect head, much larger than the two Bregor has been taking apart snaps at his ankles. It's body rises further up until it towers over even Scrufulus, still mounted on his horse.
About 30 feet away near where Bregor has been working alone, the ground shifts, a sure sign of impending doom erupting beneath him....

New round. One is visible and able to be attacked with melee and missiles. A second is threatening to seize Bregor.

Brutus moves away from the hole he has come out of, and moves towards Bregor, trying to move to make a clear angle to be able to see whatever comes up from the ground.   When it does, he will begin casting.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:01, Wed 22 Feb 2012.

With the monster towering above them it was easy for Triladir to find a clear line of sight. Summoning her magics again, a bolt of lightning erupted impacting on the creature!

OOC:

08:37, Today: Triladir rolled 28 using 8d8. Lightning bolt. Save for half damage

Before the creature can attack, Triladir cals upon mighty magics and spears it with a lightning bolt. Already badly scorched from Brutus' earlier fireball, it literally explodes as the electricity tears into it - flesh and exoskeleton rain down across a wide area.

Athelstan and Jeremiah, both spying the danger Bregor is in, charge their horses towards the Druid. They are too late to do much more than give moral support however and Brutus, slightly delayed by his efforts to regain the surface, redirects his three missiles away from his original target and into the 2nd beast just as it is breaking the surface. It to dies horribly as the three bolts of magic tear ito it's head, having suffered even more from the earlier fireball.

Everyone goes still, listening, feeling the ground for any further danger.

All is quiet, only the freezing drizzle causing a few pebbles to shift and fall into the gaping holes in the ground....

Brutus takes a deep breathe, tucks his bearded chin into his shoulder for a few moments, as if resting, after the kill.

"What... a... mess," Fenube mutters, clearly blaming the others for the uncouth and untidy resolution to the encounter.

Demonstrably the little gnome is quite disgusted at the worm-viscera et al. Waiting for the all clear from the others, no little time is spent assuring none of the gook got on the fine century-old kimono with it's dancing crane motif in shades of grey and black on a creamy silk background.

After a few moments pass, Brutus straightens back up, dusts himself off and heads back to the entrance.  If there is room to get past the dead insect, he'll again put on the rope to be lowered down, asking first for the magical light, and will try to explore the tunnels again, hopefully finding a wealth of treasure rather than more fire and bugs.

Jeremiah graciously steps aside and gestures grandiosely for the fiery mage to enter the hole again at his leisure.
"That's how it's done, eh?" Said an impressed Paladin.

After waiving Brutus through Jeremiah brought the flat of Paramel up like a mirror and addressed the weapon face to face, so to speak;
"Care to lower me down as well? You may even get a new pommel stone out of it if we're lucky."

Brutus is once again in the firm hands of the lovely monk who just seconds ago was cocking a large crossbow. How it packed away and was replaced by rope in such short notice was a mystery to all who were not watching her with one eye at all times.


Brutus is tied up in a slightly heavy-handed manner, and probably well more prepared for the gentle shove when it came.

At least buy the man dinner... Equus pawed the ground, shook his ponderous head and wondered what fools couldn't even speak horse.

A sharp and above all understanding look was enough to make the horse back off, Ultra Heavy Magic Warhorse or no.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of overkill, it's underkill you need to avoid." said Trialdir as she surveyed her handiwork.

Chuckling at the light hearted banter of the others (particularity the wisdom shared by sister Trialdir) Fenube checks the oxen and the others to make sure everyone is all right.

Clearly all has been forgive, gnomes were rarely known to hold a grudge for longer than forty seven seconds.

"You still owe me for moving the ankheg!" the sword huffed.
"And you want levitation not telekinesis."
It was almost possible to hear the sword rolling it's proverbial eyes at the Paladin.
"Humans!"
This message was last updated by the player at 04:59, Mon 27 Feb 2012.

"I must disagree, Levitation is simply telekinesis on ones self, and as he is not asking you to lower yourself, lady blade, then it is indeed telekinesis he requires."

"So, you can shift things with your mind then can you?"
As usual, the sword was showing a decided lack of patience and respect for anyone who wasn't an elf.

"Let me put it into simple terms for you. Levitation is like lifting yourself by your boot straps. The far superior and capable telekinesis is a bit like reaching out with a magical arm and lifting the item. You've got to be in contact with a larger object to make it work."

"And no, don't try to argue the point, it's much more complex than that, too much for such young minds as yours to comprehend."

If it wasn't for the swords usefulness, some may have been tempted to wrap it around a tree...

"How odd for a sword to miss the point!"

An impish smile if followed by a fluted titter.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:15, Tue 28 Feb 2012.

Jeremiah then waited at the edge of the hole. "I am probably the heaviest one here, so won't hassle anybody with lowering me down. It seems safe, so I will wait here."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:22, Sat 03 Mar 2012.

Natasha had no objection to scuffling down the hole with Brutus once she had passed the rope to Jeremiah.

"You haul then. I will climb." was all she said. She then proceeded to do just that.

Prudence slapped her forehead.
"How could I forget!?"
"I have a magical climbing rope in my pack we can all use."
Recovering the item from within the wagon her additional possessions were carried in, she ordered the rope to secure itself to a convenient boulder and knot itself for an easier climb.
"Skrufulus, after you... "

Athelstan, never one to shirk a dangerous task, took his place and descended the ropes in turn. At the bottom he drew his magical sword which cast it's glow a dozen or so feet around and peered off down the six foot round earthen tunnel.
"So how do you want to do this?" he asked of Brutus.

"There is only one tunnel here, I'd say we have no choice, I saw the gold up ahead in a widened spot, perhaps a chamber. Let's go have a look".

<--- waves tata!

Brutus, Natasha, Athelstan, Prudence and Skrufulus descend the ropes without incident and begin a search of the tunnels. The sides of the tunnels and the larger chambers of the lair are strewn with bits and pieces of wood, rocks of all sizes, scraps of human origin (clothing, pieces of weapons, and other refuse), and the usual traces of ankheg occupancy.
Within minutes, a sizeable collection of silver pieces is found - about four score scattered about amongst the loose dirt. Then, a hint of greater treasure is found - a fine quality eight foot long spear, undamaged by the ankhegs activity and with the metal head engraved with mystical symbols.
Thus far it would seem only a small portion of the total network of tunnels has been sifted through - how far the tunnels actually go is also still unknown, but based on the flames and flying dirt from Brutus' fireball, the network must cover nearly half a square mile.

How long do you intend to search for treasure?

"We don't want to leave the others in that cold sitting for very long, I say we split into two groups, and canvass as much as we can in half an hour, then we leave and get on the journey"

"I will strike out on my own," Natasha volunteered "If I can have the light gem."
Everyone knew she was the fastest person there, and could cover  a lot of ground in a hurry.

While patiently waiting for the others, Fenube pulls out a small basket of knitting, and returns to making that pair of booties with the little blue dragons on them.

As night falls, the young gnome makes a simple but very tasty meal for those who remain on the surface.
It had been several months since the others began exploring the caverns, but Fenube was patient and loyal to a fault.

After what seemed like forever the tunnel explorers return to the surface with their collected loot.
Around 1,000 pieces of silver, two large gems (a ruby and a perhaps the largest black sapphire anyone in the group has ever seen), as well as the 8 foot long spear is the sum total recovered.

Meanwhile, Bregor has completed his dissection of the Ankhegs and reports that the combination of sword, missile and fire which killed them, has rendered their exoskeletons as unsuitable for salvage. If they'd somehow been incapacitated first, then slain with a single carefully aimed thrust between armoured sections...

Further down the trail, just beyond the tree line, the teamsters have completed reorganising the animals following the death and injury inflicted by the gigantic insects.

Without further delay, the caravan moves off down the slope, leaving the mountains behind. All are glad to finally be within the trees of the Charwood and the shelter they provide from the freezing weather. A couple of hours latter and Skrufulus and Prudence have found a suitable camp site for the night.

NPC'd
Bregor moves around the campsite using his magic to create several enchanted snares in the more obvious approach routes. Once done, he returns to the camp fire and cast detect magic on the spear recovered from the tunnels - as expected it glows.

Jer polishes his armour as the peasants do the real work. He whistles a tune.

Natasha encourages Jer's chauvanism by making a stew. She is a lovely person, after all, and barely even implies that Jer ought to be in the stew if not helping make it.

"Brutus, do you think you could identify this spear?"
Knowing something was magical was one thing, but knowing what it was capable of doing was something else entirely and, unfortunately, beyond Bregors ability.

"Skrufulus, come walk the perimeter with me and I'll teach you some tracking skills."
"Don't forget your bow, we might get lucky and shoot some dinner."

Breathing heavily, Prudence burst from the bushes and into the fire light.
"Wolves," she panted, sucking in air in great lungfuls.
"Lots of them!"

Bregor motioned everyone to stillness and cocked his ear in the direction Prudence was waving.
"That's not wolves, that's worgs."

"And they sound like they've just caught something," he added, hand cupped to his ear.
"Or someone..."

"I suppose it's up to me to find out what's going on then..."
Bregors form blurred and morphed into the shape of a large owl. A few moments later and he launched into the evening sky, soundlessly flying towards the sounds of conflict.

"So you're all going to let the beast man fly off by himself then?"
"And you call yourselves Paladins!"
It seemed clear the sword was addressing both Jeremiah and Athelstan directly.

seeing the commotion bregor swoops in on to the nearest tree to see what is going on as he reaches the tree the lands on a  mid level branch and examines the battle field

Jer stirred from a daze as his sword gave him lip...
"Huh, wha..."

Nostrils flared, pupils contracted and a burst of sound came from the Paladin;
"THE STINK OF EVIL!" he shouted in a booming voice, and jerked to his feet almost involuntarily.

Paramel was almost immediately in the air, and the large maniac raced towards the sound of wargs.

"Hold on!" called Natasha, and the monk ran after Jeremiah, easily catching him despite her shorter stature.
"We just going to run at them and destroy?" She inquired in a monotone.

"Indeed, comrade. Join me in glorious battle!" Jeremiah wheezed in between strides.
"V - Victory shall be ours!"

"Hmmm. So it is then." replied Natasha, and she hefted a javelin absent mindedly.

Bregor flies back and lands in front of Jeremiah and Athelstan and transforms back into his own form.
 "About half a mile west there is a cliff with 2 people fighting off goblin worg riders. I do believe as paladins its your job to provide aid to these people and I will come along too."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Thu 05 July 2012.

Seeing the paladins move to action, Brutus thinks of running after them, but in this weather and snow, he moves instead to gain a mount and then head off to the west.  He will race fast at first, but as soon as he can either see the cliff or begin to head battle, he'll dismount and leave his horse and go by foot a more cautious pace, hopefully to see the battle before he upon it.

"I'll stay here to watch over the wagons and their...cargo."
"Skrufulus, your night vision might be best used by going with them?"

"I'll stay too. I'd only slow you down."

Bregor, Natasha, Jeremiah and Brutus race westwards towards the scene of the battle. They are about halfway there (another few hundred yards and about a minute to go) when three rapid flashes of light briefly illuminate the area. No details can be made out through the trees besides a mass of white.

Bregor shocked by the blinding light covers his eyes with his forearm while griping his maul with all his power.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:20, Sat 14 July 2012.

Brutus looks down, covering his eyes during the flashes, then squinting, immediately continues his approach to the battlesite.

Jeremiah halts for nobody's flashing, and continues on despite the rude display.

Unimpressed, Natasha also continues. Clearly she has seen bigger...

Three more flashes light up the trees, revealing, if only briefly, a dwarf and a short man with their backs to a low cliff holding off worgs and goblins.
The man at least must be a spell caster as a web entraps most of their attackers - only one worg remains free (although seriously wounded), it's rider laying on the ground with a still smoking hole in it's head. Another worg continues to struggle through the web, obviously not caught by the sticky magic strands.

Two of the held worgs may be attacked with melee weapons (they're right on the edge of the web) the rest will need missiles, magic, or destruction of the web....

The free worg inflicts a nasty wound on the man and a few moments later the forest begins to writhe and twist. Plants seek out and tangle everything within twenty feet of the worg and man...

Clutching the maul Bregor runs up and hits the nearest worg with it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:24, Thu 27 Sept 2012.

Paramel heads merrily in the direction of the as yet un-molested warg. Its time has come...

"Would you like a hand, Bregor?" Natasha inquires amicably as said hand reaches out to chastise Bregor's worg without waiting for reply.

The party arrives just in time to see the dwarf fire two arrows at the worg snapping at the man, bringing final death to it even as it snapped at the mans face.
Seven more however remain, trapped in web and writhing plants. Two spear armed goblins sit swearing on their backs.

- the dwarf is free, the man is not.
- melee weapons cannot be used to attack the worgs or goblins, but the man could be...
- missile weapons on the other hand....
- webs are flammable...

This message was deleted by the player at 12:45, Thu 25 Oct 2012.

"Oh that's just typical. You lot run a whole mile and for what, to rescue a dwarf and a half caste from worgs and goblins, only to stop cold at the last moment!?"

Jeremiah looks from the sword to the goblins and back. "I could throw you..." He suggested, but decided against it.
The mighty warrior stood as close to the goblins as possible and looked sternly at them. They might be out of weapon reach but looking into the Paladin's eyes they wouldn't be able to help feeling like the naughty boys they are.

Natasha stepped up to the mark and hurled a pertinent point at one of the offending gobbies.

The man tangled in the foliage calls a challenge.
Who are you? Make yourselves known!

The dwarf also pipes up.
Ay, show yourselves, slowly mind, I'm a crack shot with this bow.

i am Bregor the druied and Who myght be you little man and his dwaf freand

I am the half-elf Nikodemos, a Jack of all trades. Are you friend or foe?

*Harumph* Tann shows his paranoid distrust for this strange man but eases back on his bow string a little.

haven't we all ready gone throu this stuff???
so lets recap I  Bregor friend to those who do not wish to upset the balance. ok now we have  gone throu this  where did you come from and what are you doing hear ??
This message was last edited by the player at 06:31, Wed 28 Nov 2012.

"Legendary Jeremiah and my band of Merry men... and women and er well just leave it at that." Jeremiah struck an impressive pose and then resumed conversation.

"Well, Bregor here has a good question. How did you come to be here and in such peril?"