Krackor

There is no response to your call. Are you advancing all the way to the main battle site? Into the kill box? Harun, are you following?

In reply to DM (msg # 21):

Yes. Remaining on horseback in case it gets nasty.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:38, Mon 09 July 2018.

Harun stayed close to Krackor and watched the towers carefully.  He wasn't liking the silence at all.  He looked for any doors or openings in the keep walls where bandits might have taken the bodies to be looted.

"Where are they going!?  They didn't say that they were going IN!"

"Suicide.  They announce their presence and then walk straight back into the kill box."

Harun turned back to face Corym and Lexanna.  He rolled his eyes and shrugged while mouthing the word, "Dwarves", as if that should explain everything.

Krackor and Harun

You ride deeper into the keep, your horses stepping gingerly on the uneven, rolling ground. The northwest tower has a door at its foot which had previously been blocked by seemingly-fallen masonry. It's now been cleared to the side, revealing a solid, closed, wooden door. The Inner Ward gates are also closed, and now that you have a bit more time to look at them seem to be much newer, and in better condition, than the rest of the keep. Still old and weathered, but not ancient, and presenting a real barrier to entry.

You ride further, keeping a wary eye up at the Inner Ward tower that had been the source for the greatest amount of arrow fire. Everything is still. Even the crickets seem subdued.

Turning the corner of the Inner Ward's walls, you find yourself back in the very place where you were confronted by the other group of adventurers. You know it's the place because you were there, and because there is trampled grass and splashes of dried blood in all the right spots.

The bodies, however, are gone.

In reply to DM (msg # 27):

Harun, one last call and if still no response, we must sadly turn about and leave empty handed.

The Priest of Grom repeats his earlier words and gives time to respond.

Silence.

As you turn to leave, a murder of crows leaps into the air from where they have been watching you from their perches on the outer wall, and fly east, cawing loudly.

In reply to DM (msg # 29):

Looking at the outer wall and seeing the walkway clear, the young Dwarf starts to allow his caution to bend.

That doesn't bode well but we will see.

Heading back out, as before, he speaks loudly to be heard by those in the walls. We came only for the bodies of our fallen, we now leave empty handed
This message was lightly edited by the player at 05:28, Tue 10 July 2018.

Krackor and Harun

The stillness of the ruined keep is a heavy presence around you. Watchful. You glance over your shoulder as you leave, almost expecting something to have changed.

Nothing.

You make it back to the party without further issue.

In reply to DM (msg # 31):

I think we may have hurt them more than we thought, nothing moving at all but ALL the bodies are gone, even my net which would have been really heavy for them is missing. If more than one tried to lift it, wouldn't make it lighter, just heavier. Means they've taken their time.

Your's is the next move Corym, you said to leave, I'm good with that. As you said, a lesson learnt.

"Bandits here are likely in league with fiends, which would have had any number of ways to circumvent or negate your magic." Corym looks on the castle ruin, "In the future we may return.  There are men here who have earned their deaths, great riches acquired by murder, and likely fiends that need banishing.  A great work and likely a great reward--but one currently beyond us."

The elf turns to regard his half-elven guest. "Lorsan if you can give us the names of your noble sponsor, we can send word to the nearest temple of Siamorphe and report their demise.  If they wish to effect either recovery or revenge, they may do so at their discretion. You and your sister are welcome to travel with us to the Way Inn."

Corym addresses the group more generally, "I don't know how much farther the Way Inn lies, but it is more fortress than an Inn.  Recently rebuilt by noble families within the Lord's Alliance it is maintained at their pleasure and used as a southern outpost to keep an eye on the moors at Dragonspear.  We are likely to find many folk there, but let's not let our tongues wag on about what we have done and where we have been.  We leave powerful enemies behind us, and it is in part for that reason that we head North.  Let our former deeds lie asleep unless there is need.  But particularly we will inform only the necessary parties--Siamorphe's clergy and the Lord's Alliance--about our doings here.  The Lord's Alliance can make other travelers aware of the danger more effectively than we can, and we'll avoid becoming embroiled in local intrigues.  Moreover, the bandits must fence their plunder somewhere, and there will likely be some of their affiliates at the Inn for that purpose.  Best not to rouse their attention."

"What we do want word of are abandoned manors, ghost towns, fallen castles, and ruined cities.  We are now leaving a young country that had few of these, and are now entering an older country which has many.  Whether it has been previously picked over or not is of little concern.  We have skilled craftsmen among us, and while many adventurers will take coin, few will take the doors and columns!  The making of such ancient works are rare and valuable, and we wish to restore such to the sight of living men.  Moreover we can learn of the makings of these holds--their composition and methods of construction.  These are lessons that living men may take advantage of to strengthen their towns and cities to brace against storms of orcs and trolls as well as snow and sleet.  Most of all we seek the lost lore of the past which may solve many a riddle in the present and future. In the end we will hope to restore and make real the Dreams of the Ancients!"

With that Corym calls for the company to follow him back to the road, there he will call upon any that have knowledge of the area to counsel with him so that they can together make an estimate of how much farther a journey lies ahead of them.

((Any with trail craft, knowledge local, or the like--let's make some rolls for the DM))

The lanky young woman tossed a sharp glance at the ruins.

The business of the company made little matter to her.  Her main interest was in putting Hill's Edge behind her and uncovering the truth of her father's betrayal and murder.  She needed money to pay for deciphering her father's black book which she had left among the Binder's priests in Berdusk.  Here were true friends and profit, and a way to put old dangers behind her.

"I know little of orienteering or geography. I can only roughly tell you how long it took my father's trains to make the Trade Way. But we travel faster than a wagon train, and have already turned aside from the path so often as to make those estimates worthless. But Lorsan and his sister will need horses.  They can take mine.  I can run for many long miles without slowing the company."

"I think you can keep your horse, Lexanna," Harun said. "I'll give Vesna's mount to them. I don't think...  What is your sister's name, Lorsan?  It seems strange to just keep referring to her as 'her'.  Anyway, I don't think she can ride any distance unassisted at the moment."

He seemed happy to be putting Dragonspear behind him and content to follow the group on their agreed upon path.

Got a 7 on a knowledge local roll.   Let’s move!

Moving along with the company, Krackor thinks back to see if there was anything he missed, anything that would have worked, would have kept the others alive, anything that would have meant being able to do the right thing with the bodies and their belongings.  He could think of nothing.

The group mounts up, Lorsan still cradling his sister Keya in front of him. You ride for much of the day, and as Dragonspear and its hills disappear over the horizon, you feel as though a weight is lifted from your shoulders. Like you just stared in the face of Bhaal, and still breathe.

As the day goes by, Keya slowly recovers her senses, until a few bells after highsun her eyes clear completely and the lassitude leaves her limbs. She stiffens, then groans from the pain in her wounds. A few moments later she relaxes as her brother casts several healing spells and most of her wounds close. The burns likewise smooth away.

She looks around, seemingly only seeing her surroundings for the first time, and stiffens. "What?"

((ooc: I'm going to pause here, in case anyone has anything they'd like to say to her, or other questions to ask. I haven't been able to get my maps out over the past few days, so I owe you a "how long until the Way Inn." I also owe you the names of the two nobles.

There won't be any further encounters on the road, so once you're done with talking, I'll jump straight to the Way Inn.))

Corym notes Lorsan's use of healing and tries to ascertain whether he is a bard or a priest (Spellcraft passed [3]). His fine features were calm, casual even.  "I'm afraid this is going to be awkward.  I am Corym Ildroun and neither you nor your brother are our prisoners.  Neither did we kill any member of your party.  As terrifying as it may seem, our entire battle was a matter of semantic misunderstanding and mistaken identity--a situation exploited by a murderous third party.  We're on our way North now--hopefully to the Way Inn.  We're traveling together for mutual benefit, and once you feel safe enough to be on your own, you're welcome to leave. Your brother has watched over you faithfully for days now. You're lucky to have such attentive family."

"I... see," Keya says slowly. Her hand reaches down to touch her sheathed sword, and relaxes slightly when she feels it's still there.

She continues, her voice quiet and thoughtful. "We warned Aduin and Markalus that exploring the ruins was folly. Like walking into your grave. I didn't expect... this, exactly. Goad two sides into battle and pick off the survivors. An old tactic."

((ooc: Lorsan is a priest. From the way he was wording the healing spells, and the speed with which he was casting them, probably of Azuth.))

"Old but effective," Harun nodded. "Especially if you don't think you are capable of taking either of the other two sides in a stand up fight.  My name is Harun.  It is nice to meet you despite the circumstances.  Should you want to ride on your own, you can use my horse and I will walk for a while. Fair warning though. The beast is strong but dumber than a sack of hair and more stubborn than a rock."

"Previously I always felt like we were talking behind your back since you were unconscious.  Truth be told, your brother seemed to think so as well, and so kept his lips quite tight.  Loyalty is a fine virtue, and you may be sure of his!  Indeed it is only now that I see that I stand in the presence of the Magistrati.  I have only recently come from offering prayers at the House of the High Hand in Berdusk.  I am honored by your presence, and the more shamed for our previous conduct." Corym bows deeply and apologetically.

"Since you travel in the company of Waterdhavian nobility, I surmise that we are now returning to your homeland.  How fares matters to the North? Karilla and I both hail from Evereska, and we are only recently parted from her brother, a Chronologian of the Lifegiver.  Did you pass by him and his escort on your way to Dragonspear?"

The elf breaks into his pack for a skin of wine and some food.  He offers it freely to  the siblings.

Lexi engages with Karilla regarding Adam. “Vesna called Adam a familiar and had a queer way of speaking with him. I had heard that wizards were accompanied by animals, but neither you nor  Corym have such. What can you tell me about familiars?”

Keya and Lorsan exchange a glance. He shrugs slightly, and Keya nods. "You're the first people we've seen for more than two months. We've been struggling through the High Moor. Aduin had a map that he was certain would lead to an abandoned dwarf hold. We ate through all our food before he was finally willing to admit he'd been swindled. He and Markalus insisted on coming here instead of returning to Waterdeep with nothing to show for it."

She sighs. "Stupidly proud to the end. At least we can say they were consistent."

"So you've an interest in ruins?  I learned my trade as part of the Evereskan patrols that tried to keep grasping hunters out of abandoned settlements and tombs.  I came to learn that many of those tombs had powerful items and magics within them, and many settlements abandoned so suddenly that great treasures remained unclaimed--items and magic that might be better put to use in the defense of the Fortress Home.  Surely that is what our fallen ancestors would have preferred.  So now I lead our band into the North, a area full of shattered shattered kingdoms and fallen dreams.  We seek to restore the wisdom, power, and beauty of our forebears to those that continue the struggle in face of dark and destructive forces.  Already we are returning a lost batch of brew from fallen Citadel Felbarr to the survivors thereof, and we hope to learn of many more opportunities as we go North.  What will you be doing now that your band is undone?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:43, Sat 21 July 2018.