The party escapes into the forest, avoiding the roads and eluding the possible patrols from Fal-Narath. They move cautiously away from the town, pausing often in the night to see if they were followed.
They reference Brenda’s notes, and find reference to some cultists are allegedly nearby. Struggling for a moment, the party remembers they are adventurers, and decide that the cultists could probably a use a visit from the likes of them, and angle themselves toward the rumored location of the encampment.
Day breaks, and as the dawn turning into late morning, they hear the frantic chattering of squirrels, accompanied by whomps and crashes in the distance. The party decides to lay in wait for the coming disturbance; with Turnin, the human monk standing on a stump; Zyn the drow ranger and Kyllar the human wizard hiding behind trees, and the diminutive halfling rogue Shadowale attempting to climb one, though his tiny limbs caused him frustration.
A veritable tide of squirrels engulf the party, but pay them no mind, so the party reciprocates. Among the scurry of squirrels (<- legit term), runs a gnome barbarian, dressed in simple tiny pelts, a necklace of skulls and a giant skull pauldron. Even in his haste he notices each member of the party, and skids to a halt.
Turnin, standing on the stump with his robes flapping in an unexpected breeze and the sun suddenly bursting through the forest canopy to illuminate him on his stump, welcomes the gnome to this part of the forest, and identifies himself as leader of a band of great adventurers. The gnome blinks skeptically as he skids to his halt, shouting a warning that “giant spiders be a-coming” and pointing behind him emphatically. As if on cue, the many-legged horrors appear, crashing through the underbrush. Five move to engage the party, while three are still too far away to join the fight yet, and simply continue climbing through the branches towards the party.
Shadowale manages to right himself in the boughs of the tree and fires off an arrow while Zyn readies and fires his crossbows. Kyllar unleashes bursts of magic, hikes up his robes, and then retreats, all while Turnin and the gnome advance to trade blows with their respective foes.
The party sticks to their single combats, aiding each other only when their own foe has been dispatched. It takes some time, but they prevail, and eventually even the final three spiders join the fight and are then vanquished.
Introductions are formally made, and the gnome barbarian, known only as Nameless, agrees to join the party and battle some cultists.
From Brenda’s notes, Kyllar relates to the party that the cult has existed for a while, but only in the recent years has it become more than a handful of people. The Mourning in Eberron, various local bandits, and most recently the troubles with the Kobolds and Mountain Giants let the cult draw more and more ordinary folk into its ranks the last few years. They had set up a moderately fortified camp, incorporating the ruins of an old watchtower. After a day of traveling, the party spies the camp at dusk. The view it from several angles, and discover that it is built around an old abandoned watch tower. The tower is built into a small hill, and from that point, a small palisade wraps around the huts that have been built nearby. They party begins to formulate a plan…
The party eventually settles on a plan of assassination. They reason out that cults are usually led by a charismatic person; kill them, and the cult should fail and disburse in time. They’ll disburse the presumably evil cult without killing innocents. Additionally, cult leaders tend to appropriate all the good stuff for themselves… so the stash should be near the leader. Hidden off in the tree line, Nameless dozes lightly, Turnin flexes his monk muscles, and Kyllar summons a familiar, which watches over Shadowale and Zyn as they begin to scale the wall of the ruined tower. Kyllar’s familiar perches on a beam, and watches the murderous duo descend by rope into the tower itself.
A veritable tide of squirrels engulf the party, but pay them no mind, so the party reciprocates. Among the scurry of squirrels (<- legit term), runs a gnome barbarian, dressed in simple tiny pelts, a necklace of skulls and a giant skull pauldron. Even in his haste he notices each member of the party, and skids to a halt.
Turnin, standing on the stump with his robes flapping in an unexpected breeze and the sun suddenly bursting through the forest canopy to illuminate him on his stump, welcomes the gnome to this part of the forest, and identifies himself as leader of a band of great adventurers. The gnome blinks skeptically as he skids to his halt, shouting a warning that “giant spiders be a-coming” and pointing behind him emphatically. As if on cue, the many-legged horrors appear, crashing through the underbrush. Five move to engage the party, while three are still too far away to join the fight yet, and simply continue climbing through the branches towards the party.
Shadowale manages to right himself in the boughs of the tree and fires off an arrow while Zyn readies and fires his crossbows. Kyllar unleashes bursts of magic, hikes up his robes, and then retreats, all while Turnin and the gnome advance to trade blows with their respective foes.
The party sticks to their single combats, aiding each other only when their own foe has been dispatched. It takes some time, but they prevail, and eventually even the final three spiders join the fight and are then vanquished.
Introductions are formally made, and the gnome barbarian, known only as Nameless, agrees to join the party and battle some cultists.
From Brenda’s notes, Kyllar relates to the party that the cult has existed for a while, but only in the recent years has it become more than a handful of people. The Mourning in Eberron, various local bandits, and most recently the troubles with the Kobolds and Mountain Giants let the cult draw more and more ordinary folk into its ranks the last few years. They had set up a moderately fortified camp, incorporating the ruins of an old watchtower. After a day of traveling, the party spies the camp at dusk. The view it from several angles, and discover that it is built around an old abandoned watch tower. The tower is built into a small hill, and from that point, a small palisade wraps around the huts that have been built nearby. They party begins to formulate a plan…
The party eventually settles on a plan of assassination. They reason out that cults are usually led by a charismatic person; kill them, and the cult should fail and disburse in time. They’ll disburse the presumably evil cult without killing innocents. Additionally, cult leaders tend to appropriate all the good stuff for themselves… so the stash should be near the leader. Hidden off in the tree line, Nameless dozes lightly, Turnin flexes his monk muscles, and Kyllar summons a familiar, which watches over Shadowale and Zyn as they begin to scale the wall of the ruined tower. Kyllar’s familiar perches on a beam, and watches the murderous duo descend by rope into the tower itself.
Zyn’s sharp drow eyes notice a few sleeping pallets in the shadows, which don’t seem to stay where they should; they bleed together, swirling from dark areas. Shadowale slips while lowering himself down into the tower, landing with a soft thud. As one of the trio of sleepers groggily mumbles “Master?” Zyn breaks his neck. The shadows nearby begin to coalesce malevolently, and a taunting challenge is whispered to the minds of Zyn and Shadowale, asking them if they know how foolish they are for coming to the tower.
Zyn and Shadowale look at one another, wide-eyed. Thoroughly spooked, Zyn turns to a second cultist, also groggily waking up, and opts for slitting the man’s throat, while Shawdowale jumps onto a cot with a halfling-appropriate squeal of fright, driving his daggers again and again into the other sleepy cultist.
Zyn and Shadowale look at one another, wide-eyed. Thoroughly spooked, Zyn turns to a second cultist, also groggily waking up, and opts for slitting the man’s throat, while Shawdowale jumps onto a cot with a halfling-appropriate squeal of fright, driving his daggers again and again into the other sleepy cultist.
The Shadows laugh, swirling into a loose, still shadowed shape of a demon-like figure with fearsome claws. Zyn, being closest feels the claws bite into his flesh. Zyn reels, though he and Shadowale recover, and both slashing at the demon, but it shrugs off their strikes and reciprocates with pitiless strikes of its own.
Kyllar frantically alerts the rest of the party to trouble in the tower, and the trio start a long dash from the tree line towards the cultist’s encampment while Zyn and Shadowale continue to be mauled mercilessly by the demon, who is effortlessly slipping between shadows between strikes.
Kyllar frantically alerts the rest of the party to trouble in the tower, and the trio start a long dash from the tree line towards the cultist’s encampment while Zyn and Shadowale continue to be mauled mercilessly by the demon, who is effortlessly slipping between shadows between strikes.
Nameless and Turnin run through an opening in the cultist’s palisade, shouting war cries and reassurances for Zyn and Shadowale that they will arrive soon. Kyllar follows in his compatriots footsteps, pausing occasionally to see through his familiar’s eyes instead of his own, and shout updates to the bruisers of the group. Their advance known to all, the cultists begin to wake up throughout the camp. The trio reaches the base of the ruined tower, but finds the door locked from the inside. Kyllar commands his familiar to hoot and hover over the plank barring the door, hoping Zyn or Shadowale will notice.
The shadowy demon strikes Zyn down, and Shadowale makes a parting strike as he throws his little body towards the door in an attempt to unbar it. Kyllar manages to shoulder the door open, knocking it into Shadowale, who is dutifully knocked out, battered and bloodied as he is. Kyllar then shuts the door, an dmagically ignites the sleeping pallets, attempting to bathe the tower in light and rob the demon of hiding places.
The shadowy demon strikes Zyn down, and Shadowale makes a parting strike as he throws his little body towards the door in an attempt to unbar it. Kyllar manages to shoulder the door open, knocking it into Shadowale, who is dutifully knocked out, battered and bloodied as he is. Kyllar then shuts the door, an dmagically ignites the sleeping pallets, attempting to bathe the tower in light and rob the demon of hiding places.
The demon has fewer places to hide, but soon the burning pallets ignite other things in the room, and Kyllar commands his familiar to hover above and behind the demon as it moves to help the Nameless and Turnin better strike it.
Despite seeing the demon clearly, the party has a difficult time bringing the fiend down. Kyllar unleashes a devastating arcane salvo of against the fiend, but it is ultimately the axe of nameless what lands the final blow. The edge bites into something more solid in the mass of shadows, and the rest of the form begins to disburse, mingling with the growing column of smoke from the fires…
Zyn is revived with a lesser healing potion, and Shadowale is stabilized, if still unconscious. The situation looks grim for the party. On the other side of the door, the cultists, who have been roused from slumber by the fire, can now be heard, their wails and shouts growing in intensity as the fire in the tower grows…
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