A short while after Narvi awoke, Pell rode back into the remains of the lodge. Corwin and Falcon dropped the wooden beam they had been clearing from the rubble and ran over to greet him. Apparently, he had been in the stables brushing down Falcon's favourite stallion, Baatorius, when the war horns had begun. The horses were spooked, and he had leapt upon Baatorius's back and given the horse it's head, with the other mares in tow. Once the sounds of battle had died down, he had gathered the stray horses together and ridden back to the lodge.
The Silas and Lightfinger prepared a simple stew for everyone and they settled down to plan their next move. Of the strange dwarf who had appeared in the middle of the fracas, there was no sign, the company presumed he was either dead in the rubble or had been taken by the orcs as they had run away.
"We may have survived the warbands attack but some of them retreated and their leaders are not here. You were powerful adversaries but make no mistake, the orcs have left for now, but they are not finished. I'll send Corwin to Phandalin to seek help rebuilding and Pell and I will try to get the palisade patched up. Your help was much appreciated but my advice to you is to leave, and to do so soon. I only wish I could help you more." Falcon looks around catching the eye of each of the companions in turn, giving them a grim smile and a nod of appreciation.
"What do you think we should do Blare? You're the one we need to help next. You can't fight a dragon if you become more rat than man."
"I don't know Lightfinger. Don't ask me what to do. Everything was easier before. Fight and find gold. Then fight some more." Blare says despondently. "This magic stuff, it's beyond me."
"Then there is only one thing we can do big fella, fight and find a cure for you. These orcs are mixed up in magic." growls Narvi.
"We have seen them shift their forms, the potion we found may have come from one of them. And if not and it was a gift from the gods, so what. The orcs know shape shifting magics. We should go to them and take their power. By force if necessary." Elluin spoke with such a gentle voice but her heart was stone.
"What other choice do we have?" Rally asked.
"Visit the dragon barrow where it is rumoured there is a weapon to help kill dragons. Clear out Axholme so that the people of Phandalin have a sanctuary. Kill a dragon. Lose Blare." Lightfinger says in a flat tone. "I vote for hunting orc."
"We fight." Hisses Silas.
"Oh good." says Rally, "Can I borrow an axe please?"
-
As the sun approaches its zenith, the orc scout pushes back from the earthen ridge he crouches behind. His large, clawed hands leaving heavy indents in the soft earth. He has seen the warriors and spell casters slipping into the woods below, leaving the wreckage of yesterday's battle and heading in a straight line towards the circle of thunder. It was time to report back to report back to Drethna and the one they knew only as 'Shamen.'
He moves his large hands deftly in a subtle signal to the others and carefully they make their way into the darkness of the trees, keeping slightly ahead of their quarry. With luck he might get to kill the filthy, tainted, half orc runt, that betrayed his blood by protecting the dwarven scum, elven worms, draconic aberration, and human waste. Yes, he would enjoy ripping out the rounded stumps, that should be full grown tusks, from that one's skull.
-
Silas signals for the others to draw in closer and points ahead. Through the branches they can see that the trees thin into a clearing. In the centre of the open ground is a tall, blackened finger of charred wood reaching into the darkening sky. The remains of a tall, ancient tree destroyed by lightning and fire. At the base of the monolith stand three figures made of sticks, shaped into a humanoid form and bound up with black cords.
"Let me deal with these." states Silas as he dips an arrow into one of his oil flasks, lights it, draws back on his long bow and lets fly.
The arrow leaves a small trail in the air as it flies true, thudding into the central figure and setting all three alight. They do not move. They burn. Slowly flames consume them until only ash remains.
"That looked easy." Says Rally boldly stepping forward to the edge of the clearing. "Nice shot by the way."
The others begin to follow him when suddenly the ground begins to rustle and writhe. Vines move in serpentine waves through the leaf litter and foliage all around them. Elluin, Lightfinger and Rally dodge back into the tree line as blackened vines twist up from the ground entwining the legs of Blare and Narvi. "Not this shit again!" Silas yells as the vines around him slither up past his waist and begin to bind his arms.
Rally cocks back his arm and throws a knife at Silas, which embeds itself into the vine with a satisfying 'thunk' but does not seem to do any damage.
Lightfinger fires an arrow across the clearing and it thuds into the trunk of the burnt tree. He had hoped that was the source of the vines but there was no effect from his arrow.
Elluin casts a fireball at the base of the vines around Blare, but the wood is already burnt so there is no fuel for the flames to consume.
The vines around Silas are torn apart as the Dragon born tears them from himself with his bare hands, he quickly rolls away, draws his bow and releases two arrows at Narvi in quick succession.
Biting at the vines entwining his arms Blare, is becoming increasingly panicked as they twist ever tighter about him.
The arrows slam into the vines covering Narvi's chest and the muscled dwarven fighter splinters the charred creepers in his great fists, tearing them from his body. Then he charges to help his struggling friend.
His rapier proves ineffective at hacking the crisped climbers from Blare, so Lightfinger spins away looking for further signs of trouble. Elluin begins to back away. Silas takes aim with his bow but holds his shot as Narvi grabs at the vines around Blare and together they heave at the heavy wooden entanglement and free him just enough that they can both crawl away.
"I think we should go around this place. I don't care if it takes longer. What say you Elluin?"
"For once Lightfinger, I like your style. Better to live another day I think."
The party back away from the clearing and edge off into the surrounding trees.
-
On the other side of the clearing, hidden high in the trees, Drethna sighs. She had been sure her manipulations of nature would work, but once again the party of adventurers had proven to be strong. Slowly she slips back down to the ground. Shamen would be delighted to hear that these 'adventurers' were on their way. He would delight in having the kill for himself. But she worried that he would still see her as weak for failing.
She feels a stirring in the air and catches a scent on the wind. Others are nearby, perhaps she can meet up with the remains of the war party and get one last attack upon her foes, before they reach the Circle of Thunder. Absentmindedly, she scratches at the new raised markings on her skin, the wood below it twitches beneath her fingers. She moves off, careful to stay down wind of her quarry, angling towards a ridge ahead where she hopes to meet up with the others.
-
The party move more cautiously now. Passing intently through the trees. The ground ahead rises to a ridge line where only a few gnarled trees reach their straggling branches down wind. Blare signals that they should aim for the high ground to check their bearings and size up the lay of the land.
Silas and Lightfinger creep ahead of the others dropping to their bellies and inching forwards to take a look. Over the crest of the ridge is a sharp drop into a U-shaped gully filled with fallen branches and dried leaves. The opposite side is steep and rocky, rising to a parallel ridge twenty meters or so above the surrounding ground.
"Good place for an ambush." Whispers Silas.
They signal for the others to join them.
In the distance to the Northeast they can make out a larger hill rising above the forest. Dark clouds seem to hang ominously over it. Their destination.
"It'll take hours to go around this gully. I for one, got a need to be getting on with this. We have already wasted enough time wandering around in this wood. Let's just get the fuck on with it." Blare roughly slaps Narvi on the back and loostens his sword in its hilt as he strides over the lip of the ravine.
Silas grabs at the strapping of his armour, pulling him back down and pointing. "Greenskins." He whispers into Blares ear, pointing to a thicket of trees on the other side.
A half orc, that must be a good head taller than Blare, steps onto the ridge line opposite, surrounded by heavily armoured orcs. It raises its unnaturally clawed hands and points directly at the spot where the company are hiding. Immediately, two orcs rush forward dropping down the slope and sprint across the gap towards where Blare had been standing.
Shrugging off Silas, Blare draws his great sword and leaps down to confront the enemy.
Narvi dodges a javelin as he rushes to help. Silas and Lightfinger both draw their bows as Elluin stands tall, drawing her hands together, light seems to gather from all around her, darkening the shadows all about. Then she smiles and thrusts her hands forwards. A tiny point of light spins away across the gully, growing rapidly in size until it becomes a roaring ball of rushing fire. The flames land right in the midst of the gathered orcs sending a shockwave outwards as their shrieks fill the air. The Clawed figure facing the companions now stands alone. Its laughter can be heard over the sounds of clashing weapons as it raises its hands towards the fighters in the gully, releasing a lightning bolt so bright that Lightfinger has to cover his eyes.
Narvi and Blare are thrown back a few steps, sizzling electricity arcing between them until Rally raises his arms sending a wave of leaves and petals through the air countering the effects of the damage caused to his friends.
Blare swings his mighty sword, and it passes clean through the thick neck of the orc confronting him, and as the body slowly topples to the ground, the head lands next to Narvi's feet rolling slowly to a stop.
Lightfinger and Silas let loose another wave of arrows across the gulf targeting the orcish spell caster. The first shaft buries itself heavily into its shoulder and one of its raised arms falls limply to its side. The second arrow grazes a dark line of blood across its cheek. The third slams heavily into its throat, cutting off the sounds of laughter and ending its life in a bloody, frothing gurgle.
Narvi and Blare standing together see the orc before them faulter in its charge and swing their weapons together, viciously cutting the beast down.
Once again, the sounds of the forest wildlife resume, falling into the deep well of silence left behind in the aftermath of battle.
The company search the bodies but find nothing of note and decide to rest up and dress their wounds.
"So, what's the plan?" asks Lightfinger. "Are we going to scout the area and look for weaknesses?"
"Rush up there and fuck them up." Growls Narvi. "Keeps things simple."
"I can give a bird call signal so that we all know what to do and when." Rally waves his staff with the beautiful depictions of birds in flight carved upon it.
"You gonna quack so we all know when to duck or something. If there's more of those spell slingers up there we should probably go in a loose line formation so that the lightning doesn't hit us all at once." Silas suggests.
"Let's just get over there, check it out and decide. No plan lasts in the heat of battle." Elluin puts down the scroll she had been reading and begins to gather herself for the next encounter, none thought this was going to be easy.
-
Shamen withdrew his mind from the forest rodent he had invaded. He smiled. It was time to begin the ceremony. Fresh strong blood would arrive soon, and he would harness its power to summon the storm. Many of the cult had died in recent weeks on the weapons of these adventurers, their souls tied in death to the stones upon the hill. He could feel them feeding their power into the earth all around him. Soon he would become all powerful and harness the forces of Talos the thunder god as his own.
He draws his knife and slices through the upper layers of skin along his forearm, he peels back the outer layers, pushing his clawed fingers into the flesh over the corded muscles beneath. His sharpened nails catch the wooden figure within, his lips curl back further in a grimace, revealing his long, stained tusks, as he pulls the effigy from his flesh. His own blood magics have given life to this blight. It will serve him well. He whispers to it in an ancient guttural tongue. Then lowers it to the ground where it stands before quivering and then it walks away to do its masters bidding.
-
The party stand at the bottom of the hill. Upon the top they can see a circle of standing stones cut from massive slabs of granite ten feet high. Within the circle they can make out many small figures dancing and capering about, as well as a couple of taller forms who are standing still arms extended towards the sky. Above the hill, dark clouds are gathered, swirling and bubbling up, as though the winds from all directions blow to this one spot, even though the air itself is still. The smell of ozone hangs heavily in the air, it feels like thunder is gathering.
As the others argue about their course of action, Lightfinger keeps watch, his eyes darting all around. He knows that in the end they will just have to face the unknown as they always do. Head on. At the same time, he knows that they need to be cautious, their rash decisions of the past have cost them dearly, in blood, sweat and lives. He sees the fighters begin to check their weapons as Silas restrings his bow, Elluin flexes her fingers and he knows that the time is upon them for action. Silently he moves off into the trees heading north. He will check that there are no hidden threats the others have not seen and be a hidden threat to any who seek harm his friends.
Narvi and Blare tear up the hill kicking great clods of earth into the air behind them as they charge. They veer either side of the nearest stone and begin to engage the blights before them.
Silas and Rally take cover behind the stone their companions went around, the Dragon Born drawing back on his long bow as the half elf prepares his spells.
Elluin edges closer and to the north to get a better line of sight at the large figures in the circle, preparing to counter any magics they cast.
To the north of the hill Lightfinger discovers two roughhewn entrances into the side of the hill, he can hear nothing from within and see no signs of movement so moves on looking for a position to fire upon the enemy from behind.
Having dispatched several the small stick like blights with rapid ease, Narvi and Blare form up together to face one of the tall figures in dark, black robes. As they do so, it backs up moving carefully away and to the side of them, its attention seems to be on something behind them as they dash forwards.
The cultists arms rise rapidly, as sparks form between its fingers. Lightning flashes straight into the fighter's chests, arcing around and through them in a sizzling line of destruction. Silas hears a scream from Elluin as she drops to the floor, the target of the orc's destruction.
Sword and hammer smash relentlessly into the cultist cutting him own before he has a chance to release any more magics, as Rally releases a wave of feathers from the end of his staff giving healing energies to restore the fighters.
Silas smashes a blight from him as he sprints carelessly across the open ground towards the fallen elven mage.
Lightfinger releases and arrow from the shadows. He has had time to aim, he has had time to choose his mark. In his mind he calls the target to him and watches the arrow move in slow motion to hit the remaining cultist right between the shoulder blades.
With the enemies down, it is now a race to get to Elluin. No one could stand to see her bright life snuffed out. Silas makes it first, but he cannot staunch the bleeding and his knowledge of female elven anatomy is notably lacking. Blare slides the last few yards, his hand already grasping the vial of healing within his pouch. He places a hand carefully behind Elluin's head, tilting it gently as he pours the liquid past her pale lips.
For a moment everyone stands motionless looking for signs of life in their friend.
Lightfinger glances around to make sure they are safe.
Narvi wipes blood from his Warhammer with a dirty rag.
Rally shuffles his feet, nervously wringing his hands as he mouths a prayer to Chauntea.
Elluin coughs once as she opens her eyes and glances around, "Thank you boys. Now go and check the area is safe. Blare, can you help me stand please, I feel a little frazzled."