Dead friends with benefits

Riding back from the pine forest, Vogir feels his heart lighten.
Ghanash has gone on to the afterlife he so craved and has no need for any of his old weapons and equipment.
The deal he’d made with the traveling trader was poor, but it was better than nothing and his spare horse was still under a greater strain than she’d been on the way out.
Magical armour and axes weigh much less than even a fifth their value in gold.
Once back in town, Vogir seeks out Dokan, Rudha-an and Indigo to give them their share.
He could cheat them now, but frankly he’s not really interested in gold so why bother?
Unsurprisingly, he finds them all in the local tavern run by Linnea, a blond-haired, overly friendly, middle-aged widow.
The others find her fussing a little annoying, but Rudha-an seems to be loving it.
“Well boys, set up the drinks while I divvy this all out.”
The others smile and drink to the Dragon-born's memory as Vogir hands out his gold.

Dokan gets 10pp, 3,868gp, 2sp and 5cp.
Indigo gets 10pp, 3,868gp, 2sp and 5cp.
Rudha-an gets 10pp, 3,868gp, 2sp and 5cp.
Vogir gets 10pp, 3,868gp, 2sp and 5cp.

Ghanash's sweet goodbye

In terms of treasure, Ghanash - having now ascended to a more celestial plane - no longer has any earthly need of the following items:

Frightful Battleaxe +3
Battlecrazed Battleaxe +2
Black Iron Scale Armour +3
Boots of Eagerness (Heroic Tier)
Helm of Battle (Heroic Tier)
Cloak of Resistance +1
8 Potions of Healing (Heroic Tier)
Heavy Bashing Shield (Paragon Tier)
1 Potion of Vitality (Paragon Tier)
4 Vials of Alchemist's Acid (Level 1)
1 Vial of Alchemist's Fire (Level 1)
Adventurer's Kit
Climber's Kit
Everburning Torch
Crossbow
50 Crossbow Bolts
41 Platinum Pieces
217 Gold Pieces
3 Silver Pieces

Fight over them as you see fit.

Torn between worlds

With Ghanash’s limp and dead body draped over his horses back, Vogir leads the trudging animal back toward town.
Death. He feels its touch even now. He’d not gone gently into that night. He’d raged against it and fought to return.
Yet…
He feels the darkness and loss still cold within his breast.
Suddenly the grey light around him grows darker and a chill closes in.
‘You can use this connection you know.’
Spinning around, Vogir sees the ethereal shade of Daelagor walking behind him. As usual, his other companions seem frozen in time.
‘What do you mean, my dead Fey friend?’
‘What I mean, you unappreciative human, is that you’ve breached the Fey veil and have taken an infinitesimal fragment of it back with you. What I mean, when I say you can use that connection, is simple: If you concentrate, you can let yourself sink back into it.’
Vogir stares at the dead Eladrin.
‘I allowed that to happen once, but death must have addled your brain if you imagine I’d let that happen again?’
The ghost of Daelagor smiles and raises his translucent hands in mock defence.
‘I said allow yourself to sink back into the veil, not through it. Trust me and just relax your grip of this reality. Just a little.’
Vogir steadies his breathing, lets his eyelids droop and tries. A feeling of stillness creeps over him. He imagines himself in both places at once and he feels his physical form slipping away.
Opening his eyes and looking down, he’s surprised to see his body still there, if perhaps a little wispy.
‘Just walk forward’ urges Daelagor.
Obeying the Eladrin’s request, Vogir gasps as his body seems to melt into shadows and mist.

Vogir’s 14th level feat: Walker in the gloom.
:)

What a way to go...

Ghanash awoke. He opened his eyes, and saw... nothing. Not blackness, not darkness, he was not blinded - there was simply an absence of... everything. He was standing, but on what he could not tell, and there was no apparent horizon to separate earth from sky. He looked down and smiled, exposing his sharp, pointed teeth. He may not know where he was, but at least he still had his armour and weaponry. Things were looking up...

Never one to rest on his laurels, Ghanash chose a direction at random and was about to begin walking when something changed. Almost imperceptible at first, more a feeling or sensation than anything physical. But that feeling grew and grew, the air began to shimmer, it became hot and cold, dark and light, wet and dry, and everything in between.

Then, gradually coalescing into existence, a light began to appear. It grew brighter and brighter, until Ghanash had to look away, but as the afterglow faded away a majestic figure emerged. Bare-chested, but bearing a huge warhammer with a lightning bolt sigil, he was immediately recognisable.

Dropping to one knee, head bowed, Ghanash spoke: "Kord".

"INDEED YOUNG DRAGONBORN." Kord spoke quietly, but his voice resonated with unspeakable power and penetrated Ghanash to his core. "YOU SLEW THE FEY QUEEN IN MY NAME. I HAVE SUMMONED YOU HERE TO GIVE YOU MY THANKS. YOU HAVE SERVED ME WELL."

"I would continue to serve to serve you, my Lord, if only you would send me back from whence I came..."

"WHILE YOU GAVE YOUR FINAL BREATH IN MY HONOUR, THIS I WILL NOT DO... FOR THERE IS ANOTHER WHO REQUIRES YOUR ATTENTION."

As Kord spoke these final words he motioned behind Ghanash, and vanished. Turning, Ghanash noticed a speck in the distance and - drawing his battleaxe - formed a combat stance. Swiftly it approached, growing larger and larger. As the shape came closer, its features became apparent. Leathery wings, a scaled and bloated belly, and arrow shaped head... A dragon!

Strangely, though, Ghanash did not feel feel afraid. Instead, he felt serenity emanating from the huge beast as it landed in front of him and he knew instinctively that it was his most revered God. Without speaking, Bahamut's words coalesced in Ghanash's mind:

"MY SON, YOU HAVE RETURNED TO ME."

"Then I truly am dead." As the realisation finally hit Ghanash, his armour and weapons dissolved - symbolic of his own life-force having left the world. Naked, Ghanash had never felt so vulnerable, nor so weak. He sank to his knees and began to weep.

"BE NOT AFRAID. DEATH NEED NOT BE THE END FOR YOU."

As the words entered Ghanash's head, he looked down. A new suit of armour - shimmering in celestial blues encased him, a huge and highly ornate battleaxe appeared in his hand, and a crystalline shield appeared strapped to his harm. He felt strong again. He stood, as tall and proud as only a God's champion can.

"COME NOW, BLOOD OF MY BLOOD. THERE ARE BATTLES YET TO BE FOUGHT."

Three stooges

The dark haired Eyulf smiles as he sips the red wine in front of him.
“Do you think those three adventurers will give Dovmont much trouble?”
The hunch-backed and grey Rhold bares his yellow teeth in response. “Unlikely. There were only three of them with no magical support. Their only healer is a Paladin and I hobbled him with that cursed sword!”
Staring through his crystal glass into the roaring fire of the living room, Eyulf falls silent for a moment. “This little wheeze of yours has served us well for the last few years. Tricking small groups of idiot adventures into facing a much larger force than they had prepared for, having them killed and taking their stuff but…”
Rhold smiles again. “What’s wrong old friend? Do you have one of your ‘bad feelings’? Don’t worry. Not one adventurer has returned in all the years we’ve been doing this. Dovmont’s Redshirt clan has never failed us. ”
Eyulf’s smile slips now though. “But these three were part of a larger group. A group that was able to kill that sea serpent. What will we do if they get help? What will we do if they return?”
Rhold’s smile falters a little. “They will not survive, but even if they do, we have my guards, my magic and your knives. Trust me, we’ll be fine.”

Deliver us from Egil

Whilst nursing their injuries and recounting the more and more exaggerated stories of the sea monster they’d killed, the Party find themselves in a temporary calm.
Those that knew Egil, feel a deeper understanding of their stoic ex-kinsman.
They all want to be gone from this freezing, barren place; Egil’s homeland, but they are forced to wait until they hear more news about the sea monsters driving away all the herring.
Ghanash however finds himself fascinated by the hardship these humans endure and yet complain little, if at all. The Humans he had known up until this point, even the ‘heroic’ ones seem to whine about most everything.
Dokan wastes no time in discovering the local vendor of magical trinkets. He is invited by the grey and hunched Roald to come by his shoppe the next morning.
The local Lord is also entertaining one of the neighboring nobles: Vidar. A large and bearded blond man, dressed entirely in black. He’s well into his middle-years but he still stands tall and broad.
Rodha-an is content to drink and eat the free food supplied by the grateful locals. He does win the confidence of the Innkeeper though. Linnea likes a man with a good appetite, and it seems to her that the Shaman could do with putting on a few pounds.
Indigo is absent a lot of the time. He has discovered the library of the town leaders and spends his free time buried in the ancient tomes.
Vogir however seems to literarily have disappeared. No-one’s seen him in days.

An Uncharacteristically Happy Ending!

Slowing down as he approaches them, Vogir waves to the approaching crowd.
“Welcome back friends! I’m so glad you made it. Petra and Vin explained that you’d come after me. I’m so sorry I didn’t wait a day longer.”
Vogir sweats for a moment as he waits for the coming response.
“Where did you get to Human?”
Grateful that it’s Ghanash that replies, Vogir explains that he’d waited as long as he could and eventually led a small group of Gnomes to sneak into the mountain and spirit away the captive Gnomes of the village.
Vogir repeatedly thanks the group for coming and congratulates them all on successfully rescuing so many of the Gnomish prisoners.
After escorting everyone back, the Party and children are made welcome. Even the thirteen Human children are taken away to be washed and dressed.
A great feast is laid on and dozens of the adult Gnomes play music and organize games.
Everyone is happy.
Even Vogir smiles as he watches the laughing children.
Later on in the evening, he calls everyone over.
“Ghanash, Orestes, Rudha-an, Dokan… And you too Lukas. I have something for you.”
Pulling out a heavy wooden chest from behind him, Vogir hands out a small leather purse to each of them in turn.

They only seem to contain a score of coins, but when the bags are opened, the coins glitter like platinum!

Treasure: Everyone gets 20pp (2,000gp) each as a reward for surviving and successfully rescuing the Gnomish children!

Experience: Everyone is 11th level!

Well done everyone!
No deaths and the successful completion of your mission.
(I’m pretty impressed and have to grumblingly admit that 4th edition does ‘encourage’ teamwork.)
;)

Change at the (Mountain)top

Standing wounded and burnt in the would-be throne room of High Vedic Liebniz, Orestes, Dokan, Ghanash and Rudha-an look around themselves.
The rat-faced leader of the Vedics lies dead in the flames of the still raging furnace. Both the burly guards and one of the flaming orb throwers from the balcony are also beyond saving. The remaining Vedics seem to have had the fight taken out of them at the sight of their supreme leader having to resort to using the now idle automaton.
Dokan prods it cautiously, but after its initial assault, it now stands silent.
A cough from behind, reminds them of the collection of Gnomish children as well as the ginger furred Head librarian: Godel and the turncoat: Gauss.
Gerromy, the seemingly eldest of the Gnome ‘teenagers’ coughs again.
‘Er… Before you slaughter any more of the Vedics, you may want to consider what the best solution for the future is…’
As soon as it’s established that the Vedics have surrendered, Lukas turns up with his not-so-merry band of Human children atop a floating wooden door.
After much debating, it is agreed that whatever Gnome children want to leave with the adventurers can, but whoever wants to stay will equally be allowed to.
The Vedics themselves will work with the older Gnomes to continue their work, but without the use of any additional Human children. The Human children already converted will be rehabilitated as best as possible and treated in a more ‘Gnomane’ way from now onwards.
Head Librarian Godel offers them the military equipment on ex-high Vedic Liebniz’ body plus any thing they want form his private safe.
On looking they take it all, realizing the value and that some of it might be useful.
The Party can hardly believe the change in demeanor that’s come over the Vedics. These clever if not powerful warriors seem to convert into butlers and servants with a shrug of their furry shoulders.
The adventures wash, eat and rest as the Gnomes decide amongst themselves, who will stay and who will go.
It’s early on the third day when the five adventures travel out through the stunningly crafted upper levels to the main, mountaintop entrance.
Each of them is momentarily blinded the brilliant arcs of electricity as the large hatch is opened.
It is guarded by just two Vedics manning the ‘lightning shield’ and ‘lightning cannon’. Dokan does flinch though when he passes a chained, but massive Snowlbear. He looks twice when he notices the mechanical devices surgically connected to its claws, beak and the thick, dark lenses over its eyes.
Squinting against the painful light, he even wishes he had a set of them himself!
It takes five days to walk the downward journey back to Finklestone and although none of the thirty-eight Gnomes are originally from there, they all wanted to leave Mount Snaefang. All the Finklestone Gnomes escaped during the time the adventurers were battling through the Vedic forces.
The journey is relatively easy and they have at least twice the provisions they need.
It’s on the last day that they see a surprised looking Vogir riding up to meet them.

A (Brute) Force for Good?

Puffing from the exertion of the battle, Dokan looks around himself. The defending forces are all dead. Even their leader lies dead in the corridor ahead.
He should feel happy, but instead he feels a sinking dread that he’s been responsible for the deaths of scores of mistreated Kobold slaves and worse, the death of a mind-controlled human boy.
Something else as well…
He feels hot and a little giddy.
Meanwhile, Ghanash has busied himself pulling the hoods from the faces of several of the red robed figures. They’re some sort of giant, bipedal rodent…
They’re familiar somehow…
It’s only when he notices the pale and shaven headed child, that his memory serves him.
He’s seen these collars before. Over a year ago, just after he’d met up with the human Vogir.
Opening his mouth to speak, he realises that none of his fellows were with him back then. Adventurers and mercenaries tend not to last too long in this world.
Orestes looks uncomfortable. Although he relishes a fight, possibly a ‘little’ too much, their current path seems certain to draw the attention of all the Vedic’s forces.
They couldn’t have been less subtle even if they’d taken the main entrance…
Could Niema have been captured and given them away?
Still, a fight’s a fight. The worse the odds, the greater the glory!
Rudha-an glances up from his effort to separate the dead boy from one of his pallid ears.
His teammates don’t look happy.
Don’t they realise that the child had gone for him?
In the corridor, Lucas telekinetically drags the body of Pascal back towards the others. The corridor he was in lead to a flight of stairs going up. No rush now though as the Vedic’s surely know they’re coming.

Treasure:

From the Otyugh’s fetid lair:
(The dead from disease and asphyxiation dwarf)

Dwarven greaves Lvl: 7 (2,600)
Holy gauntlets Lvl: 8 (3,400)
Helm of battle Lvl: 9 (4,200)
Battle-axe +3 (Frightful) Lvl: 12 (13,000)
Battle forged plat email +3 Lvl: 15 (25,000)

From the Kobold slave quarters:

Bizarrely nothing.

From Pascal and the Hamstermen/Vedics

9 x Long swords
9 x Crossbows
8 x Chainmail armour
Iron skin belt Lvl: 15 (25,000)
Stoneskin robes +3 Lvl: 13 (17,000)
Potion of healing Lvl: 2 (50)

Down in the Stenches

In the dark and malodorous cavern beneath Mount Sneafang, the Party find themselves trapped.
What little light there is, is coming from the flickering torchlight of the two ever-burning torches casually tossed on the floor.
The Gnome Lucas floats high above the islands of refuse and rotting corpses of children. The ‘water’ that separates these small islands is ‘pure’ sewage.
The noxious gassy air chokes and blinds, but despite this Lucas examines the downward pipes looking for a way back up.
Aside from the large central one that leads back up to the trap rooms, most of them are too small for any of them to enter, but there are a few that might allow his small frame entry. There might even be one or two that would allow his bigger teammates passage...
If they could just get up here…
Rudha-an stands alone one of the smaller islands while his spirit panther swims around the outer walls looking for a way out.
In the central island, the unseen Niema burrows further down under the decomposing slime of the dead children.
Dokan, struggles for breath as the disgusting tentacle tightens around his throat. He’s being pulled lower into the brown sludge, but with direction and purpose.
Just behind him are his heroic teammates: Orestes and Ghanash. Can they see well enough through the gloop to follow or is Dokan lost?

Treasure: Just in case I forget:
12 large opals: (Value 50gp each)
Splintered and cracked large opal bits: (25gp)

Owlbearly alive

Waking suddenly, the paradoxical demon/paladin opens his eyes to see Ghanash standing over him. Looking past the massive Dragon-born, he can make out the mortally injured but still wheezing snowlbear lying in a pool of it’s own blood.
Dokan had foolishly let his thirst for battle, cloud his judgment. He would have been safe in the ominous black box. Instead though he almost got himself killed trying to prove himself against a thousand pounds of fur, feathers and psychosis.
Still, four snowlbears…
He’d heard of them of course, but never actually seen one.
Everything he’d heard though, had been proven true. When he looked into their freakishly oversized eyes, all he saw was unrelenting hatred. The only way a battle with a snowlbear will end is with the death of either it or you.
Niema had finished off the last remaining human. No conversation. No interrogation. Just a quick and cold assassination.
The five humans were all big, muscular men, but not particularly skilled. Niema realises though, that they didn’t have to be with the snowlbears to do their fighting for them.
Orestes examines one of the massive black metal boxes. His father had been a carpenter, so he knew the difference between good and bad quality work. The engineering involved in these boxes though was beyond the best that he’d ever seen.
The box is about twelve feet long, by eight feet wide and eight feet tall. Inside it’s divided into two compartments. The larger one for the snowlbear, the smaller one for the handler.
The cog, ratchet system was amazing. Despite the sheer weight and strength of the murderously insane animal, he was able to drag it back quite easily.
Strong as he is, Orestes realises that he’d been very lucky breaking out of their hugs as often as he did.
Inside the handler section, Orestes realises that the human’s must have been living there for a while. Each tiny cabin had it’s own folding bed and store cupboard for food and personal belongings…
Lucas settles down to go through what they’d found…
The humans all had leather armour, long swords and crossbows. Pretty standard stuff, but they also had a fairly substantial amount of gold.
Each of the five had a purse containing 50gp. (250gp total)
(Exactly 50gp.)
The four brass horns they had were worth 5gp each.
The leader also had three more things of interest.
A silver whistle, worth 10gp.
A Shortsword +2 Berserkery 5,000gp
A Crossbow +2 of Thundering. 3,400gp
Off to the side, the disturbingly thin and tall Rhudha-an laughs as he plays with the amputated claws of the four snowlbears. Suddenly quiet, he looks to the bodies of the five human mercenaries…

Short cut to the chase

The Party ride on towards the massive mountain rising up before them. It’ll still be a good four days ride but they are well rested and well supplied.
It was surprising how much food the Gnomes had. Despite the Dragon taxes, their lack of farm workers and the current warm and dry spell, their crops and livestock are in abundance.
The road soon becomes a path, as it hasn’t been maintained in decades if not centuries.
Ghanash looks at the map Vin had given him.
It shows the way to a ‘secret’ entrance. It seems to be about a third the way up the mountain near another old Gnome settlement.
It also shows the way to the topmost and main entry point.
He’s puzzled by the weird drawing and labeling using the words ‘Snow catcher’ and ‘Lightning shield’. What could they be?
At the bottom of the map is written the number ‘42’. Apparently this is the code solution to get them through the ‘secret’ entrance.
Ghanash smoothes down his forehead frills.
Why would Vogir leave the code if he was planning to meet them there?
Humans. Always so bloody unreliable.

That’s life guards

Standing in front of their commander, the two gate sentries look determinedly at the floor.
“Yes Sir. Sorry Sir. It’ll not happen again Sir.”
The commander lets the colour drain from his face until it’s closer to its normal beetroot.
“I understand that it’s just six gold pieces, but it’s the principle of the thing. If we just let these things go, the Black cloaks will start taking a more active interest in our affairs… Our finances.”
The older of the two guards coughs and stammers more of an explanation.
“Calm down, I realise you were bewitched in some way. It doesn’t take a genius to work out these adventurers took advantage of you. The only question is why?”
Pacing around his office, the large commander stops and as if talking to himself mutters, “Keep your eyes open for this group of monsters. What were they? Two Tieflings - a male and a female, a Dragon-born, an Orc, a Gnome and a seven foot tall tall Human? Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.”

A friend in need

Ghanash wakes up bleary eyed from yet another drinking challenge from Dokan and Orestes. Battle hardened warriors that they may be; they never can keep up with a true-blooded Dragon born.
After quickly licking both eyes clear, he rolls from his bed and notices an envelope posted under his door.
Without waiting to dress, Ghanash rips it open with the tip of his clawed thumb.
It’s a message from Vogir.

‘Dear Ghanash,
I hope I find you and the others well. As you already know, I left Vornak two weeks ago without word. Please forgive my rudeness; it was family business. I need your help. Bring the others to Gon Dulat as fast as you can. Book into the ‘Fallen Angel’. I shall either meet you there or leave word of where I’ve gone on to.
Don’t worry about gold; I’ll make sure you’re suitable rewarded.
Regards,
Vogir.’

Spoils of adventuring

Vogir divides up the loot from the last few encounters. Despite his nature, he tries to be fair....

Ghanash:
Battlecrazed Battleaxe +2. (840gp)
1 potion of healing (10gp)
22gp

Dokan:
Boots of Quickness +1 to Reflex Defense. (680gp)
192gp

Orestes:
Periapt of Recovery +2. (680 gp)
1 potion of healing (10gp)
182gp

Rhudha-an:
Irrefutable Hide Armor +2AC. (520gp)
1 potion of healing (10gp)
142gp

Vogir:
1 Potion of Regeneration (32gp)
1 Platinum ring (50gp)
1 Silver Circlet (250gp)
5 pp
39gp

Value wise, everyone is equal. If you really want to check though, I've left the values of items up next to them. Actually, Vogir's 1gp down on everyone else. :)

Conflicted we fall

Enjoying the revelry, Vogir settles back by the fire and watches the happy community of outcastes. The raid had been successful and no-one would be going hungry for a while. Weapons had been stored and they had enough gold to survive for years if careful.
Best of all, was that he had managed to kill a Black cloak and several of the Dragon guards.
It had sickened him to realise that he was the only human battling in that fort. His allies had been true, but it was disturbing to see the Tiefling transform like Niema had done.
Can all Tieflings do that?
The Dragon-born and the Orc had fought nobly but they seemed more interested in the fight than for the cause. The Tiefling had been frightening, but his priorities instantly changed when he saw the Dragon-born fall.
The only problem now involves the bandit Rob Inwood.
He’s no freedom fighter, that’s for sure, but...
He’s a thorn in the Dragon’s side.
That alone makes the thought of killing him difficult.
Unfortunately he’s apparently happy to attack human merchants as well.
He’s in it for himself.
Still, as long as the Black cloaks and the Sherriff target him, it gives the ‘real’ resistance cover to hide behind.
Will he bring the Dragon’s wraith down on everyone in the town of Rottingham?
Possibly, but so what?
Let the innocent villagers flee and hide.
Every copper piece lost to the Dragon is a small victory.
Pulling himself to his feet, Vogir seeks out little Jen. “Fancy a dance? I promise to keep up”.
;)

Fort to the end

OK, let’s see what we’re facing...

Our target is a well built rectangular wooden fort. I’m guessing it’s about one hundred feet along the longest sides and maybe sixty feet at its most narrow?
It’s surrounded by a ten foot patrolled palisade and it seems there is a construction inside the wall since the guards can be seen over the palisade..
The palisade has two gates in the centres of the two shortest walls on opposite sides of the fort. These gates are fortified and have small guard towers on either side.
Do we know how tall these towers are?
The sturdy wooden gates open outward.
There are eight buildings inside.
The one near the north gate seems to be the troop's quarters. They are in two lines along the road in between the gates.
There are at least ten regular guards, but that’s including their commander and an accursed black cloak.
The road passes in the west while there is forest on the other sides.
There's about a fifty foot distance from the palisade to the forest's edge.
Carts normally seem to enter at one gate and leave through the other after being loaded or unloaded by the people that are with the cart and just supervised by a guard.

There also appears to be a kind of quick response group stationed there to protect the roads near the fort. Ten mounted fighters who control the roads and pass the fort on two regular passes throughout the day and stay there over night.
Annoyingly these cavalrymen don’t were helmets and are well known and easily recogniseable by the men in the garrison.

The fort act as an intermediate storage facility. The are carts bringing and taking stuff. They mostly supply troops that are passing through and get re-stocked when necessary.
The fort is simple though. A wooden construction and no moat or slope to worry about.

I still think fire’s our best option. If we could get Indigo in somehow, he could stealthily poor oil on the thatched roofs . In fact he could set the fires AND help open the gate..
Then it would be a simple matter for archers shooting fire-arrows into the fort to light the place up.
Wooden fortifications are always susceptible to fire. A few buckets of water and damp leather are no match for burning oil and bloody mindedness.
As the fire spreads, those living inside would be forced to flee, thereby allowing us to take them prisoner or kill them.

Our main problem though is still the matter of getting in...
Do any of us have any abilities that would help?

As for the problem of not destroying what we’ve come here to get. We don’t have to target every building. The guard house and one or two others would do.
I’ve thought about what Orestes had said about their fire defences. They are very unlikely to be keeping the wood damp as that would lead to it rotting.
And regardless of that, it would distract at least a few of them.
Interestingly, as the garrison is so lightly defended, there should only be six or so defenders initially as at least a third of them will be asleep preparing for or recovering from the night shift.

I also think we all now agree that it’s best for us to strike fast during the day, between the cavalry passes and be gone before they return. Killing them can wait for another day.

Of our assets, we have the five of us and the possible support of about 15 untrained men and women. Frankly I’d rather we left them behind to protect their settlement.

We don’t have any belfries, battering rams or catapults and using ladders would prove disasterous. Mining’s out as we don’t have any Dwarves and we haven’t got time for a siege

So unless anyone can offer a better suggestion?

The Mean Fiddle

After dressing, Vogir brushes his teeth and wanders downstairs for breakfast.
Despite Vornak being a decent sized town, the Inn is quite dirty, the ale is warm and the food barely edible.
Idly watching the cook pick his nose and wipe it into his beard, Vogir resolves to book out of it and seek out Ghanash, Rudha-an, Orestes and Dokan.
The Mean Fiddle, he realizes, is a Vile Inn.

Thinking room

After getting undressed, Vogir slumps down into his bed, pulls up his covers and tries to think things through.
Politics.
He hates politics.
The whiney self-importance of men who speak of change, while usually just feathering their own nests.
Despite this, he does understand the implications of acting against the Sheriff.
Hadn’t his own Father acted in a similar way?
Unlike the Sheriff however, Armando, had eked out his own Father’s fortune for as long as he could.
Though not a strong man, he had cared for his people and protected them to the best of his ability.
The Sheriff obviously doesn’t share that sentiment.
Thinking about his monster-race teammates, Vogir starts to worry.
Dokan, Orestes and Ghanash seem straightforward enough.
Perhaps too straightforward?
They didn’t even consider keeping the gold or, better still, handing it back to the people it was ‘stolen’ from...
Even the Human Rudha-an seemed indifferent to the plight of his own people...
Not a traitor to his race but certainly uncaring.
Although it choked Vogir to admit it, the small army they’d encountered would have pulled the town apart looking for the gold he’d advocated taking.
The whole ‘slaughter-a-whole-town-so-the-others-will-pay-their-tribute’ seems a little shortsighted though.
Slaughtering ‘willing’ taxpayers just because the tax wagons are being robbed is plain stupid.
OK, it’ll scare the neighbouring towns into paying, but if they’re being robbed as well...
Vogir strains his brain some more and thinks about the people recently met and the information he’s garnered from the others.
It is apparent that there are at least four factions involved here.
The Dragon and his Black-cloaks.
The Sheriff and his men.
Rob Inwood and his gang of cutthroats.
And a ‘possible’ underground resistance.
Certainly they all have their own agendas but how do they relate to each other?
The Dragon’s motivation is clear. Keep the people down and gather gold for it’s own selfish ends.
The Sheriff is a typical toady Lord. Keen to retain his position and wealth regardless of the suffering of others.
Rob Inwood appears, not to be a hero of the people, but at least he does attack the Black-cloaks. A villain then, but at least a thorn for the Dragon to deal with.
And finally, the Underground resistance... Certainly no army and definitely incapable of standing openly against either the Sheriff or the Black cloaks...
Still, they’d be worth helping.
If he could find a way in…
The strange and unnecessarily mysterious Indigo seems to have some twisted agenda of his own, but to what end? He’s obviously no friend to Rob Inwood but is he a friend to the people?
The Minstrel, Alan A’ Dale seemed to be against Rob Inwood AND the Sheriff...
Unfortunately he didn’t seem to like the Demon Dokan either.
Little Jen, the blacksmith’s daughter was thrown into jail for standing up to the tax collectors. But apparently she escaped...
Perhaps her Father is a man worth talking to?
Also, there was another one... Fry. He escaped at the same time.... And his frail old mother claimed that he regularly leaves money for her...
Vogir smiles.
These two stood up to the Sheriff, escaped prison AND still care for their parents.
It’ll definitely be worthwhile speaking to both Big John AND widow Artack.
And what of the Maid Demarion?
She owes them her life... She seemed intelligent... She seemed to know something about the tattoos and gold bracelet…
The one that now rests in Vogir’s satchel.
Perhaps she might help... If asked nicely?

Is there anyone you can trust?

As they ate a very welcome dinner in the comfort of William Indigo's place, Dokan mentally looked at the people he had found himself with. Could he trust any one of these creatures?

Alan A'Dale had joined him in revenge against InWood's bandits and seemed to have good reason to do so. Yet he had turned pretty quick and tried to blow him up.

Of those who he had travelled from Gilderock with, Ghanash and Ruddha-an had fought bravely and seemed trustworthy - so far.

Vogir, however, who had appeared capable and upstanding, had turned around and insisted they become thieves. Hardly and glory in that. He had gone down in his estimation hugely.

Orestes had just laid stiff on the floor as the rest of them faced the onslaught of the bandit leader Knife. He would reserve judgement on him until it was clear why he had cowered on the floor.

And then there was William. Despite the fact that he had fought by his side bravely, Dokan's instinct was still telling him there was something very wrong about this guy.

Only time would tell - as usual.