[Session 6] Dragon Age - Monday 22nd February 2010

Write-up by Dangerous Brian

After conferring with his fellow clansman, the elf unlocks the cages holding the women and children. Amid scene's of tearful jubilation, there is also heartfelt grief when the party hand over the weapons once wielded by their kin-folk, Iah even going so far as to hand the elf hunter the bow she took, that he might fend for his family. Though Iah and her escort urge haste, the Dalish refuse to leave without seeing to their dead. Laria, Ogden and Lothryn help to carry the skeletons of the fallen elves out of the castle and in to the woods.

Compassionately, they do not disclose the fate of the living Dalish hauled from the cages by the dark-spawn. Though the party -and especially Iah- feel the plight of the Dalish tug upon their heart-strings, Lothryn and Laria press upon the others to look to the safety of the living -and in particular, the threat faced by their own folk, with but three untested knights and a handful of farmers to defend them. With some haste they forgo the climbing route and instead make their way along the caltrop laden trail, Laria carefully sweeping the fiendish devices from their path with the aid of her quarterstaff.

Once again however, the log bridge proves a formidable obstacle. Iah and Ogden cross without incident, Ogden taking up a defensive position on the opposite side. Yet keen-eyed Laria is no more than half-way across when she spots the absence of a great many dead birds and the recent additions of several silken threads hanging from the trees near Ogden and Iah. Laria calls out to the others that something appears to be wrong and, with directions from Laria, Iah's own eyes soon fall upon the threads. Suddenly terrified, the apostate whispers that these are the webs of horse spiders – a cat-sized breed of spiders known to jump the length of a grown man and outrun the swiftest horse!

(OOC: Think Camel Spiders, only meaner!. Actually, the scenario calls for a single giant spider. However, working on the basis that the only thing scary than one big spider is a swarm of big spiders, I down-sized the beastie and decided to give it some friends)

Iah very quietly passes on this news to Ogden and suggests they both begin to back away onto the log and find another route. As they do so, Iah notices a number of beady black eyes regarding her from the various treetops. Laria, too turns on the log in a bid to make her way safely back the way they came. Alas, her foot slips on the mossy surface, and though her fingernails scrabble and claw deep gouges into the rotten bark in a bid to halt her fall, Laria plummets into the poisonous thorns below. Though her leather armour protects her from the worst of it, her exposed hands, throat and legs are ripped and torn, the pus coloured toxins of foul blighted plant-life pumping deep into her grizzly wounds. Yet she feels no pain from her savage injuries, seeking to fall into the quiet, peaceful embrace of a deadly sleep.

(She fails a Con check against poison. I adapt the rules for bleeding to death and informed Laria's player that her Con has been reduced to zero by the poison and that she will loose another point of con each round until she dies at -3 con. Glum faces all round from the worried players.)

Reacting almost immediately, Lothryn, closer than the others given that he has yet to set foot on the log and well-protected by his mail armour and gauntlets, lowers himself down to the gulley floor (about twenty feet below), dropping the last twelve feet or so. He sets about hacking a way through the blighted rose-bushes with his blade, cleaving a path to rescue the fair, distressed maiden.

Between the noise of Laria's rather impressive fall and Iah's sudden shout of dismay, a great racket disturbs nearby birds and wildlife within the forest – and does not fail to attract the attention of said arachnids. As Ogden watches, axe hanging at his side in limp horror, a dozen or more of the largest, hairiest spiders he has ever seen begin lowering themselves from the top branches of the trees before him. He quickly pats Iah's shoulder to gain her attention before practically propelling her backwards and onto the log. Thinking quickly, he removes the last bladder on oil from her belt and sets to creating a circular sheet of flame around his side of the log. The approaching spiders chitter in frustration and begin washing their palps with greedy anticipation.

At this same moment, Lothryn, thankfully unharmed by the thorny vines which lash out at him with a feral, unthinking will, cleaves his way to Laria's side. Yet the lass in embedded in a veritable field of barbed thorns, he realises that freeing the lass without causing her further harmful injuries may be well night impossible.

Above, Ogden and Iah scamper across the log to safety, both nearly slip and fall themselves, but manage to leap the final distance to lay spread-eagled upon safe ground while the log bridge tumbles and rolls into the gulley below, thankfully missing both Lothryn and Laria in the process.

The Knight steals himself to painfully rip Laria from her thorny bed, reasoning that, with her flesh so pale and cold, any further delay might finish her regardless. Applying his great strength he pulls her from her thorny prison and runs back in the direction from which he came, towards Iah and the healing herbs he knows her pack contains.

Ogden lowers Iah down to the waiting Ser Lothryn, who steadies her as she falls the last of the twelve feet or so to the gulley floor. There, without pause, she swiftly sets to tending Laria's wounds with herbs and pungent poultices. Her healing efforts are successful. All three gasp in delight when a deathly pale Laria sucks in a great breath of air and moans her agony. Yet the lass remains unconscious.

(In actual fact, if it weren't for Laria's place in the initiative order -after Iah- and the fact that Iah had selected the novice healing talent at first level -allowing her to use the heal skill as a minor, rather than a major, action- we'd have had our first PC death there and then. That 3 points in constitution rather than strength worked out well for her after all).

Lothryn, reasoning that the flames around the log will not be enough to stop the horse spiders from approaching them via the gulley itself, quickly lights a torch and sets himself to setting the dry, diseased rosebushes themselves alight. This plan works well, as revealed by the sibilant, pained hissing noises that erupt from the vicinity of the burning foliage.

Night falls while Iah continues tending to her friend, doing all that is possible to make the comatose woman more comfortable. Yet the angry chittering noises continue, though at a much reduced volume, implying that the numbers of the swarm have been much reduced by Lothryn and Ogden's fire-raising efforts. The two males (dwarf and human) fashion a make-shift litter from fallen tree branches and old cloaks. With Laria thus supported between the two warriors and Iah keeping a torch-lit watch, the party begins moving along the gulley floor, looking for a way up.

Eventually the gulley slopes upwards to meet the forest floor. Using the stars now-visible between the tree-tops, Lothryn sets the party on the path towards Vintiver. Finally making the boundary of the forest after many hours of distraught travel, Lothryn begins to realise that something is wrong even before they reach the edge of the treeline. With the smell of all too abundnant woods-smoke fragrant in the night-time air, Lothryn signals for the others to wait while he creeps forwards to the forest edge. Using his shield to ward his torch-flame from sight, he soon crosses a rise, to reveal the Chantry steeple of Vintiver outlined against the glow of flames. Vintiver is burning, and tiny, armed figures mill around in deadly battle outside the chantry.

~ Inside the Chantry ~

Sister Arda (played by Andy) gathers the huddled women and children together by the brazier of the Eternal Flame. Standing by her pulpit, she speaks rousing words of hope and solidarity in the face of evil, testifying that Andraste herself did not weep in fear when besieged by the force of the ancient Imperium. That she instead gave vocal prayers to the Maker and extolled the men to fight on for the lives of their families and their loved ones. While the orange glow of the burning town shines through the stained glass of the Chantry windows, she organises the womenfolk of Vintiver into teams ready to fight the flames and others ready to tend the wounded men-folk who fall in the defence of the town.

(OOC: The successful Communications roll included a 5 on the Dragon Dice. Unbeknown to the players, I began recording the number on the dragon dice for successful Military Lore and Communication checks made in defence of the Chantry or to inspire the villagers. The course of the battle would be determined by how well they could convince the terrified farmers to fight - and by how well they could lead them).

Meanwhile, the three knights, (Shelby, Fossett and Garrett, played by Caroline, Silv and Aimee respectively) stand bloodied and soot stained by the Chantry doors, now braced and barred. The three newly raised squires profess their plans for the defence of the Chantry, attempting to persuade the aggressive and near-maddened Cobden that to charge forth now would be suicide. The mighty smith, his arms stained with the blood of many dark-spawn, ignores the impassioned pleas of Shelby and (the far-less coherent, lisping) Garrett but succumbs to Fossett's far more reasoned, if undiplomatic protests. Yet, though persuaded that attack is not yet an option, he flatly refuses to accept the leadership of the knights, calling them upstarts and puppies, reminding them that he, not they, is Alderman of Vintiver.

Fossett's subsequent response is both undiplomatic and unhelpful, and though his assessment of Cobden as a clueless ass is no doubt both accurate and precise, it does little to diffuse the tensions amidst the leadership. Even as the first, dreadful reverberations of the dark-spawn ram shake the rafters of the Chantry, Sister Arda makes her way to the conferring warriors and yea, verily, deliver unto Cobden something of a dressing down. She goes so far as to remind the Alderman that, while these three may be young for knights, they did not earn their early anointing by pounding metal pigs in a bloody forge. Cowed, Cobden relents and agrees to follow Fossett's orders.

(Again, some good Communication rolls from Arda and -surprisingly- Fossett, contributing to their overall chance of survival).

The rafters shake again. Cracks begin to appear in the Chantry doors. Women weep. Children cry. Amidst the background of this panicked tumult, Cobden agrees to send some young lads with hunting bows up to the bell tower. Meanwhile, Shelby, having remembered the side chambers, presses upon Arda to provide keys for the Vestry and her living quarters. On inspecting the rooms in question, he determines that the arrow-slit window in the priestesses' bedroom is secure enough, posting only a single young lad here to watch for burning brands thrust through the opening. The other chamber he finds far more worrying, for it contains the back door. He calls a party of six farmers to him. Immediately they set about bracing the doors and piling furniture and religious paraphenelia into a barricade before this weak-point.

(Thereby preventing a rather substantial deduction of “dragon dice points” from their chance of winning).

Satisified that all the approaches are now protected (he can do little about the high glass windows) Shelby -via Fossett- orders the remaining male villagers to form up in two lines before the main doors, shoulder to shoulder, with whatever weapons they can find or have to hand. His speech is both passionate and stirring, calling the warrior hidden in the breast of every man, as he pledges to save the village or die trying. He publicly flatters Cobden a great deal, swearing that he could ask for no better man to stand beside in battle, and persuades the normally taciturn man to make a speech of his own.

Cobden's own speech is less apt, not as flowery perhaps, but delivered from the heart. Moreover, the black-smith is a local and a hero, well known as a brave man and able brawler. He swears that help is coming, that the “lord” Ser Lothryn will see the flames, as will their neighbour Ser Giles, and that even now all knights within the old Restenford lands are bearing down upon the foe.

The cheers of the assembled villagers raise the rafters, drowning out, if only for an instant, the terrible, inevitable boom, of the darkspwan ram.

Tthe doors begin to splinter...

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Three miles to the westward, an exhausted Lothryn runs in his mail, as swift and sure as if the hounds of hell itself were in pursuit. Ahead, in the near-distance, he can smell the freshly cut hay from the fields of Oakenfield. As he crests a rise, the village itself comes into view into the far distance. And yet... closer still, the welcome sight of horseflesh and the glint of moonlight on steel. Lots of steel. Oakenfield is riding to war.

*****************************************************************

Elsewhere-

Iah, Ogden and Laria crash through the open door of a small thorpe, taking shelter while the sky remains lit to the north by the rape of Vintiver. Lights still burn within, the foul smell of cheap candles permeating the air, expunging the far finer smells that emanate from cooked food still set out at the table, ready to be eaten. Of the occupants, there is no sign, save that of a hasty departure.

Carefully, Ogden sets an unconscious Laria down upon a pallet in one corner of the single-roomed hovel. Iah rushes to the fireplace to build up the fire, knowing that light may give them away, but equally aware that without heat, her childhood companion may not live out the night. Outside, she hears the sound of conversation from the direction of the barn. Shushing Ogden, she creeps to the rear window, taking position beneath, and peels back her hair to better hear what is said outside. The voice she hears is a welcome one. Outside, two cultured voices speak of needing more knights, while a younger, more rustic voice, frets on the fate of his parents. With a gleeful shout, she spring up to peer out the window, coming face to face with a young Vintiver farmer and an older, blonde-haired, bearded knight. Yet Iah has eyes only for the third man, grizzled and weary. Ser Farradin. Laria's father and protector of her childhood home.

(Remember those riders Lothryn sent out? Going by how ardently Andy punched the air, Lothryn's player certainly did!)

Atop skull hill, Lothryn and the balding, aging Ser Giles exchange brusk greetings. Neither has time for platitudes on so fell a night. Giles has but six men at arms , all commoners, well-armed and trained to the lance and saddle. But few, far too few to save Vintiver. And yet Ser Giles intends to try. The old knight is still hale, his visor pulled back to reveal a many-scarred face and fierce, flinty eyes. So formidable is this proud warriors name, that Lothryn almost believes Ser Giles alone might win the day. But even with the award of a remount to his fellow knight, the band of rescuers will still number only six – for Ser Giles has sent one man north to Brigton, another south to Restenford. Even if all his men fall tonight, Ser Giles swears that Restenford and the other towns shall not be caught unprepared. Pumping his arms thrice into the air, Ser Giles calls “For the Oak and the Blade!”. The defenders of Oakenfield ride to battle. And Ser Lothryn rides with them.

******************************************

In the thorpe, Iah and Ser Farradin embrace through the window. “We had feared you all lost. Iah, tell me, where is my daughter?” Iah leads a frantic templar to his daughters sickbed. He weeps for a moment, holding her close, begging her to live. Yet when he raises his eyes from his daughter's prostrate form, they blaze with fury. At his demand, Iah explains what happened. Grimly, he stiffles a noise, somewhere between laughter and a sob, "My daughter, of all daughters, laid low by a bush." He turns his glare upon Iah. “When I return, you will give me a full accounting of events.” It is not a request. Angrily putting spur to horse, he yells for the farm boy to guard Laria and Iah.

Farradin and his companion, Ser Florin, Castellan of Restenford, ride northwards to battle. Inside the hovel, Iah wipes a wet cloth across the brow of her friend, sending a silent prayer heavenword for the people of Vintiver. Outside, a still gravely wounded Ogden looks gleefully at the farmboy's horse – Ser Lothryn's spare mount- and smiles.

****************************************************

To the west, six riders watch a band of wolves and dark-spawn, some fifty or sixty strong, frolic and romp through the burning homes, none further than a short run from the barred, closed Chantry doors. A smaller band set their backs to ramming the doors again and again, already light leaks out from inside, showing through several large cracks in the doors.

Ser Giles: “We cannot ride against that and live.”
Orange and yellow lights leap and dance across his craggy, veteran's face. The flames reflected there by the polished steel of the helm he holds in weathered, calloused hands.

Ser Lothyrn can only growl and nod. He too, is determined to try nonetheless.

Placing his helm on his head, Ser Giles flexes the shoulder joints of his armour, once. Twice. Fiercely, he growls:. “When the doors are down. We ride. Take the bastards in the rear. With the Makers grace, they'll break.”

Lothryn nods again.

Ser Giles nudges his mount forward. A patchwork beast of fur and so-many scars it would almost seem a childs hand-sewn toy from a distance, this veteran beast almost as old as the knight himself, snorts its anticipation at the bloodletting to come. Atop this veritable avatar of war itself, Ser Giles rides proud before his men, like a Prince addressing an army rather than a single knight addressing a small, hard-bitten, desperate band. Back straight. Sword held out and high before him clasping the hand of each man with him for the last time as he passes by.

Below, with a crash like the sound of hell itself bursting forth, the doors to the Chantry fall, ablaze. The roar of the dark-spawn horde echoes through the fields, only to be drowned into oblivion by the fierce call of Ser Giles:

“All men know fear”. His eyes capture those of his men this one final time. “As you love Andraste! Cloak fear with courage and FOLLOW ME!”

**************************************************************

In the Vestry, Shelby roars at the first blighted wolves to leap through the shattered side-door. Through the stained glass of the Chantry windows, Fossett sees the dark silhouettes of dark-spawn hauling themselves onto the roof. At the main doors, Garrett and Cobden roar defiance at the dark spawn pouring in. By the altar, Arda leads her flock in prayer.

The Battle for Vintiver is about to begin

Having taken command of the fighters in the Vestry, Shelby roars into the gaping, frothing maw of the first blighted, mangy wolf to leap through the shattered side-door. Through the shattered windows, Fossett spots the dark silhouettes of dark-spawn climbing siege-ropes on their way onto the roof. By the main doors, flanked by the terrified but stalwart men of the village, Garrett and Cobden scream defiance into the teeth and weapons of the dark spawn pouring in. Above the sudden sounds of clashing arms and terrifying combat, a new, hopeful sound rises, the singing of the women and children, led by a tearful but unbowed Sister Arda.


“Hold the line” comes Garrett's call, even as he meets the teeth of the first blighted wolf to leap through the flames of the barricade on his shield, for the time being he concentrates on weathering the onslaught rather than taking the lives of his foes, even as more of the foe pour in through the shattered doors. Beside him, the defenders recoil, but the line does not shatter, a few men fall only to be hoisted once again to their feet by those behind, the oncoming darkspawn met by a hedge of spear points, sharpened scythes and other farm implements. Beside him, darkspawn break against the stoic Cobden like a wave upon the rocks, but the mighty smith stands his ground, hammer swinging left and right, shattering limbs and frothing, wild maws.


In the vestry, Shelby's wolf lunges again, yet the knight once again raises his shield in time to knock the beasts head aside. Fossett meanwhile, leaps up the belfry stairs, arriving in time to see one of the youths stationed there desperately fend off a darkspawn scimitar with the stave of his bow. Grabbing the youth by his shoulder, Fossett yanks the youth back down the stairs, stepping into his place. While the straight steel of his knight's blade meets the rusty iron of the the darkspawn, he shrugs his left shoulder, his shield falling into place on his left arm.


Below, the female elf screams for mercy, cowering behind the altar as good men fight all around her. With a howl she leaps to her feet, scrabbling towards the fighting at the main doors. Sister Arda leaps forward, grabbing her and bearing the desperate, panicking elf maid to the stone floor. There, she spies and odd gleam of silver in the elf maiden's hand.


“They're just dogs boys!” Shelby calls to the men next to him, “And they'll die like dogs too” As though to prove his own words, Shelby swings mightily, his blade severing the muzzle of one blighted-wolf, the follow through severing it's throat. In a spray of dark, tainted blood, the animal falls. Around him, the men defending the vestry grit their teeth, inspired by the young knights example, and lay into their foes.


Above, Fossett takes a blow on his helm, though he recovers well, a staggering step nudges one of the boys fighting beside him, using his bow stave like a staff. Alas, the miss-step costs the boy dear, forcing his belly onto the point of another Darkspawn's scimitar. As the boy falls, Fossett orders the other lad behind him on the stairs back into the Belfry. To the lad's surprise, as much as the knight's, he obeys and sets about avenging his fallen friend.


Still beset, his fighting skills hindered by the loss of so many fingers, Garrett continues to parry blows than seeking to strike, defending both himself and the unshielded Cobden by his side. The Blacksmith however, already covered in small, minor wounds, drops a wolf with every blow, anchoring the line, inspiring the villagers with his deeds even as Garrett and the singing of the women continue to bolster their courage with words alone.


Behind the line, on the stone floor, the elf and the priestess grapple, the elf maid desperate to flee the church, the priestess equally determined not to allow the witless lass to throw her life away in her fear.


“You're not a damn wolf, you're a damned pussy!” Shelby roars, his blow severing the spine of another tainted wolf. He strides forward, crushing the beats last breath from its chest beneath his armoured boot, the might of his onslaught pushing back a second wolf until he stands, alone, in the shattered doorframe, facing a wall of eager, waiting darkspawn. Behind him, the men of his guard finish off the remaining wolves in the vestry, stepping up to stand behind the seemingly mighty warrior warding the doorway like a titan. “Come on then!” The young knight roars at the waiting ranks of darkspawn, wiping away tainted blood from his jaw with the back of a chain gauntletted hand. “Which of you bastards is next?”


Atop the bell-tower, Fossett takes a minor wound to his thigh, saved by his armour. Yet the boys next to him are younger even than he, and lack both his protective chainmail and any training in battle. Not wishing to see them die needlessly, he orders the boys back down the stairs and takes position by the belfry door. Alone, he faces down the three darkspawn who share the belfry with him, all too aware that, even now, a second group are making their way up the siege ropes towards him.


Below, Garrett yells for oil. The older boys dash forward from behind the ranks of the men, pouring pitch and oil onto the wooden furniture and bales of straw piled up by the doors. In moments, the barricade has become an inferno, but still the maddened darkspawn leap the flames and into the fray, careless of their own burning limbs


Outside, Lothryn and the mounted knights of Oakenfield charge down slope, the hooves of their mighty warmounts drumming against the hard ground, moonlight glinting from sword, mail and lance alike. To his left, the knight see's two more armoured knights ride from the south to join their line, Ser Florin and the Templar Farradin -and not far behind them, a third figure, bouncing madly atop a horse wide-eyed with fear. A figure that is all arms and stick out legs. A figure that has clearly never before rode a horse to war and has no notion of the use of a stirrup.

Ogden.


Before he can utter a sound, a single, mad voice rises up in laughter, carrying above the sounds of battle and burning homes alike. Ser Giles waves his sword in the air above him, catching the red of flames and the silver of the moon alike.

“For Oakenfield, for Andraste and for all Ferelden!”


Riding knee to knee, lance-points unwavering before them, the knights charge home.

[next] session seven

[previous] session five

[first] session one

[background] life of lady nimue 

[Session 5] Dragon Age - Monday 15th February 2010

Write-up by Dangerous Brian

Gathering their wits, the party looks about them for any signs of further danger before assembling once again on the far side of the log. While Lothryn and Ogden keep a careful watch, Iah sets about tending to the wounds suffered by Laria and herself. Her back turned to their knightly companion, the Apostate takes the time -and the risk- to augment her healing with a little magic, closing some of their minor wounds altogether. The remaining injuries are thereafter deftly stitched and bandaged.

As they continue, the the ruins of a tall, wide keep come into view. The long, low building is flanked on either side by the stumps of once mighty towers, that on the western side being of somewhat greater girth than that on the right. Alas, the path to the ruins appears to be blocked by a veritable wall of thorny brambles and vegetation.

Reasoning that the elf lass, Eshara, had to have escaped from the ruin somehow, Ogden and Lothryn skirt the bracken, one in either direction, looking for a safe route. Lothryn finds one with ease – a recently hacked passage a shoulders-width across. It appear to have been well-trodden.

The others stand by as Ogden rather recklessly decides to stomp along the path, showing absolutely no regard whatsoever for the possibility that this trail is likely warded in some way. Alas, he finds the “wards” in question soon enough. Or, to be more exact, his foot does. Letting out a mighty roar, Ogden drops to the ground, a piece of twisted metal protruding from the sole of his well-worn boot. Iah, rushing forward to the aid of her childhood friend, also succumbs to the insidious, hidden obstacles, though thankfully she only nicks the edge of her foot on the sharpened point (rather than impaling herself like Ogden).

Lothryn and Laria react quickly to Ogden's shout – but in a manner far different from Iah. They draw steel, careful to look around for other threats. It's an unwise foe that relies on obstacles alone to ward it's home. Obstacles are only effective when guarded, after all. But after a few tense moments it's plain to both warriors that nothing is coming to investigate the loud yell torn from Ogden's dwarven throat.

While Lothryn keeps watch with Laria's crossbow, Laria herself slowly approaches her two stricken comrades, painstakingly clearing away the caltrops by the simple expedient of knocking them aside with her quarterstaff (but only after stuffing the first handful so detected into her pack). Despite their being half-hidden under a carpet of lichens, fallen bark and dead leaves, she manages to clear her way first to Iah and then Ogden without incident. Together, Iah and Laria help Ogden limp back to safer ground, supporting the dwarf's weight under each shoulder. Once reunited with Lothryn, Iah examines the caltrops recovered by Laria for any hint of poison, being extremely relieved to find nothing of the sort. She again sets to cleaning and bandaging wounds, but, alas, is unable to use her healing magic under Lothryn's concerned gaze. Iah's wound is of little consequence, but that of Ogden is deep, having broken several of the small bones within his foot. Having ascertained that there is little risk of infection as yet – Iah having applied a poultice- Ogden is quick to assert than he can continue. Lothryn and Laria help the injured dwarf to his feet.

(This wound will cost him two yards of speed until it heals up. The caltrops aren't actually in the published adventure. They were an on-the-spot addition of my own. I'm treating this adventure as an introduction to dungeoneering for my novice players. I wanted to impress upon Silv and Aimee in particular the the dangers taking the “obvious” path. It might have seemed a little cruel at the time, but it may save PC-lives later on. All because painful lessons are the ones best remembered. Not because I'm a sadistic git of a GM - although I'm certainly that too).

Abandoning the trapped trail, the four companions return to the log bridge. Upon the advice of Lothryn, they decided to circle the keep and search for an alternative route. Fortunately, they quickly find that the ground slopes upwards a little further to the west, and that the rocky soil prevents the growth of much in the way of foliage. Climbing up the slight rise, the party soon finds itself looking down upon the ruined keep from a height of about forty feet. Lothryn comments that it is unusual to find a fortification built close to a terrain feature that would allow attacking forces to shoot down onto the castle itself. (I gave Lothryn some bonus xp for this observation, but not as much as he could have earned had he realised they stood upon an earth-work: a siege ramp). Looking down upon the keep the party spotted nothing unusual from this new angle, save for the presence of an area of ground cleared of rubble, where the first few steps of a cellar stair could be seen, leading down into the lightless depths below. Lothryn tied a rope to one of the few trees growing on the earth-work that seemed to have sort of deep purchase in the rocky soil. 

Thereafter, he lowered down first Ogden, then Iah without incident. Lothryn climbed down himself next, while Laria stood watch with her crossbow held ready. Finally, the agile young swords-woman made the climb down with an agility bordering on the feeling, impressing the taciturn Ser Lothryn somewhat further. Once the small band had re-assembled on level ground, Lothryn lit one of his torches and, wishing to keep the hands of the three warriors free for wielding weapons, handed it to Iah. 

Accompanying said gesture with a strong and forceful admonition to stay behind the warriors and keep the burning brand held high. With shield and sword in hand, Lothryn led the way down into darkness, with Ogden at his side with ready axe and the ladies following behind. Laria with her crossbow cocked and ready to fire over Ogden's head at any foes looming in the shadowy darkness beyond. They descend.

After less than a dozen steps, the stairs turn sharply to the right, then descend once again. All in all, the steps require four turns – deep cellars indeed, it would seem. The light from above does not penetrate this deep. The gloom presses down upon them and all around them. The weak, flickering flames of their single torch does little to banish the stygian darkness into which they descend. The light reveals only two walls slowly curving away to either side and the smooth, cracked flagstones of the ancient cellar floor. Moisture pools in the cracks at their feet. The air reeks of black rot and mould. Must and death. The only sound is the gentle, irregular, drip, drip of water dripping from the ceiling above. Yet even as Ogden takes his first steps out onto the floor of the chamber, another sound perks his ears, the noise a veritable assault upon the senses in the sepulchral stillness of the air. It sounds like nothing less than the gentle, grisly scraping of metal upon bone.

Laria feels the air part around her, a hissing feather stroking gently against her ear in passing. The metallic chink of the steel arrowhead meeting stone is followed a bare half-breath later by the snapping of the shaft. The close passage of the missile causes the swords-woman to flinch momentarily, her panic-fired quarrel revolving out into the darkness. Immediately she lowers the weapons crosspiece to the ground, bracing it against her foot, striving to pull back the taught leather chord that propels the bolt.

Iah moves forward at the sound of the shattering arrow, allowing the light of their single torch to further penetrate the deep gloom of this dank and treacherous place. Lothryn is careful to keep his body and his shield between the un-armoured woman and any danger, slowly moving forward into the blackness. Yet their enemies remain outside the circle of flickering torch-light, as though reviled by it.

Ogden quickly reaches behind him, clutching at the haft of another torch tied to his back. Quickly, the sparking of flint rubbed against his axe reaches out and the pitch-smeared head of the stave catches light. Without pause, the dwarf hurls the burning brand as far into the room as he is able, and is rewarded by it's impact against the far wall of the great, round chamber. Though the flames gutter menacingly for a moment, the flames remain lit, revealing the foul unnatural archer and it's cohorts.

Even as the things creaking, parchment-flesh wrapped arm reaches over one bony shoulder for a second arrow, five more of the walking, near-skeletal forms, brandish an assortment of melee weapons and begin a shambling advance. Despite their fear of such disturbing, disquieting creatures, the small company holds to their resolve, bracing to meet the slow, dreadful advance of the accursed things. Lothryn and Ogden take the brunt of the charge upon their shields, both warriors having forgone their usual, heavier weapons in favour of those better suited for mortal affray in the tight , winding corridors of a castle ruin. Protected behind these portable defences, neither warrior suffers a blow, yet already their line is staggered and forced apart, Ogden being pushed back towards the stairs. Lothryn is left alone at the front, his unshielded side dangerously exposed to the wicked yet jarringly graceful weapons of his foes.

Behind and on the stairs, Laria completes the reloading of her crossbow, the leather-flighted bolt sitting in place just long enough for it's wielder to take aim at the skeletal archer and launch it on its way. The weapon, propelled by deadly force, does not fail to find a mark. The archer's left arm rattles upon the stony floor, taking the yew-wood bow-stave to the ground with it. The skeleton stares stupidly at the arrow held in it's right, remaining hand for but a moment before turning it's baleful, red-eyed gaze upon it's hateful, living foe.

Lothryn likewise enjoys similar success in his efforts, bringing his longsword down upon one assailant, shattering it’s collar bone and several ribs. Dust rises from the corpse, threatening to make the knight sneeze, but Ser Lothryn fights back against the deadly impulse to close his eyes, swallowing the dusty sneeze before it can tear loose from his lungs. Ogden's efforts match those of the knight, his longsword severing the legs of his scimitar-armed foe. Alas, his jubilation turns to dismay when the creature, cackling silently, simply lifts itself up upon one arm and presses the attack with it's blade held in the other.

All but weapon-less, save for the arrow clutched in it's skeletal fist, the archer launches itself upon Lothryn as best as it may, trying to drive the small but wicked weapon into the warrior's eyes while flail and mace wielded by two more foes whip by. The final two bone-creatures turn their attentions on Ogden.

Distracted by the efforts of the crippled skeleton to enact it's vengeance upon him by severing his knees, Ogden first leaps straight into one blow and then, stunned, is further injured by the back-swing of the blow he tried to avoid. Alas, these fiends have little in the way of muscle or fury to power their blows, yet Ogden has good cause to bless the efforts of Master Torm, the metal-smith.

His will and fury stoked high by the cries of his comrade behind him, Ser Lothryn undertakes a massive and heroic feat of arms. His roundhouse sword-blows cleaves entirely through the chests of two of the his foes, sending them lifeless as string-cut marionettes to the soggy floor below, before thereafter smashing a third foe prone with a harsh body-blow from his shield.

(A six stunt point attack. The first of about three from various PC's this session.) 

Ogden, outraged at being outdone by this newly-met knight, emulates his feat in part by cleaving the legless fiend in two from chin to clave. The creature shakily keeps itself upright for but a moment, before the dwarf kicks its supporting arm from under it. It falls with a clatter to the stony ground, and does not rise again. Yet his second opponent, not in the least affected by the “demise” of it's companion, retaliates with a hefty blow of its own, it's axe breaking through mail to draw fresh, dwarven blood and embedding not a few broken links of steel into the wound. 

Lothryn's foe regains it's feet, rising to to strike again with a celerity not in accord with its dilapidated appearance. Though it's mace swings wide, the wicked flanges pass close enough to the knights head for his hair to stir at it's passing. 

Laria, having reloaded her weapon, sights down it once again before releasing another, true-aimed bolt into the fray. Ogden's foe is caught mid triumphant-hiss by the wickedly propelled missile, when passes straight through the collarbone and out through the rib-cage, dislodging and powdering a good few of the skeletons ribs on the way.

Lothryn too, seeing the dwarfs distress, quickly smote his remaining opponent, crushing first it's arm and then it's leg (mighty blow stunt). Turning upon the remaining foe, he swung his blade at the creatures exposed back, aiming to sever the spine. This second blow, swiftly aimed, struck true . The last of the foul cadaver joins it's fellows in pieces scattered about the room.

Iah, protected behind Lothryn and Ogden all this time, holding high a light by which her companions could see, rushed forward to examine the wounds of her dwarven friend. With Ser Lothryn peering at them with such intent worry, there was no opening in which to call upon her gifts, and so little light that she feared to work stitches upon his wounds. All that could be done was to bandage the still flowing wound, and hope for another chance to call upon the powers arcane later.

Retrieving his guttering torch from the mouldy floor, Ogden explored widdershins through the gloom while Lothryn and Iah moved sunrise. Laria, stood watch atop the stairs with bolt knocked to quarrel, keeping a wary eye above as well as around.Though Ogden found a few old coins buried amidst the trash and detritus of the cellar floor, Iah searched among the bodies of the foe to retrieve the skeletal archers bow and quiver of arrows. Ser Lofryn could not help but observe that the weapon -indeed, all the weapons used against them- were of Dalish make. Though the party thought nothing of it at the time.

It was Iah and Lothryn who called upon the others to join them, having been first to find egress from the chamber. Before them stood a massive stone door, rune-carved with sigils unrecognised by the knight, who could not recall such a door having been here on his earlier visit nigh on two decades before. It was the knight who first grasped the significance of the door's brackets, which, being on this side of the door and not the side further in, were most expressly intended, not to keep something out, but to keep something in. Iah and Laria commented that such a door likely had wardings of a more mundane as well as the magical kind.Yet rashly Ogden had not thought to listen. The dwarf first tapped upon the door with the hilt of his axe. 

“Silence” hissed the knight. 

"You want to announce our presence to every beast in here?” 

He then pushed it with his hands and, finally, threw his heavy, broad dwarven shoulder against it to part the warped wood from the frame. This, of course, triggered the trap that awaited him, spilling a veritable rain of sharp and rusty metals upon the luckless dwarf who, though once again protected by the work of Master Torm, did suffer several minor wounds which Iah worried might fester and become inflamed in the dank, dismal place.

And yet the blunder had, at least, served to open the way. Behind the door a short corridor stretched before them, the torch light flickering upon the wall at the far end that marked the passage's end. Two doors, one to either side of the corridor and staggered but slightly, ran along the length of the passage while a third stood opposite that which had been broken down. From behind the left-most door, (that being the nearest) Ogden heard certain mewling noises which he could not identify. Ser Lothryn invited the dwarf to press his ear against the door to learn more but Ogden, perhaps belatedly having learned the dangers of newly discovered portals in unsafe places, refused. It was thereafter the knight himself who pressed his ear against the moist wood and heard from within both whispering and the clinking of metal. At the knights signal, the party prepared to enter the room, with Lothryn and Ogden poised to kick the door down (or in) with Iah behind and Laria guarding the rear with readied crossbow, her back to the passage wall so that she might guard both left and right.

The two warriors burst into the room, with Iah close behind, to find themselves in a room where no less than a dozen Dalish, separated into males, females and off-spring, languished in three cells. The prisoners screamed as the party entered, but not so loud as Laria when the corridors opposite door was burst asunder as well.

“Evil!” is the swordswoman's warning cry at the sight four scrabbling abominations fought one another in their frenzied efforts to gain entry to the passageway. As the largest ran towards her with ungodly speed, on all fours like a beast, Laria began to back away hurriedly. Each stood at least as tall as she, despite a posture that was decidedly hunched, though the leader stood taller even than Lothryn. As they closed, Laria saw that the creatures skin was a sickly grey-green, the colour much akin to that of fish guts. Red, glowing eyes gleamed evily in the torchlight, seeming to suck in all light that passed near and wicked, black-taloned hands clawed out towards her. Almost frozen with fear, it was all she could do to let loose her quarrel, which fractured harmlessly against a wall, and retreat as far the limit of the parties torchlight back the way she had came.

Lothryn ran to the door and froze upon seeing these foul creatures, the foul sight more hateful than his warrior-soul could bear. Ogden meanwhile, hearing the cries and seeking aid, desperately approached the cell that imprisoned the single, adult male elf, and tried to force the door.

Locked! He swore as though he should have expected anything different. Then, to the Dalish: “Stay put. We're going to get you out.”

The two lead creatures charged down the corridor after the retreating Laria, while the two behind leapt with feral speed upon the frozen form of Ser Lothryn. One creature, overly keen and exited by blood-lust, failed to account for the knight's shield and armour and clawed ineffectually against him. The other, luckier or perhaps simply more cunning, latched his teeth about the knights throat, clawing at the knights exposed, un-armoured thighs with his feet, tearing great bloody furrows down both legs and opening wounds on the warriors neck. Laria, alas, was less lucky. Both of the fiendish creatures she faced threw themselves upon her, near bearing her to the ground and savagely mauling her lithe form, tearing pieces of leather from her armour in their haste to savour the warm, tender flesh beneath.

Laria, in near-panic, yet retaining sense enough to know that without her shield and a proper close-arm she was lost, dropped her crossbow from near nerveless fingers and wrestled free her shield and shortsword. Unable to attack, she exerted all her strength and might, remembering every trick she learned in child-hood wrestling with Ogden, and threw her attackers back for but a moment. Gasping against the pain, blood running into her boots, she dropped into a fighters stance, with her shield presented before her, and prepared to sell her life dear.

Lothryn, jarred from inactivity by the savagery of the assault upon he and Laria, set upon the creature gnawing upon his neck, driving the tip of his longsword deep into it's side and ramming it back to clear the door.

Ogden barrelled into the opening, only to freeze in superstitious terror at the sight of the beasts before him.

Iah, with Lofryn's back towards her, did not scoop a rock with her usual pantomime prior to launching forth her Stone throw spell. The magically conjured missile flew over Ogden's helmeted head to smack the second of the creatures that had railed against her knight. Casting swiftly (thanks to another of those six stunt point attack rolls) she summoned up a mind-blast upon the two already reeling beasts before her, luckily (and unbeknownst to her) catching one of the two attacking Laria (just out of sight) in it's snare as well, though the largest of the two managed to resist the spell.

Laria quickly took advantage of the opening this afforded her (and which almost certainly saved her life) by aiming a fierce blow at the stunned creature in front of her. Powered by her fear, desperation and the near-overwhelming pain of her wounds, the tip of her blade burst through the creatures back, having spilt the creatures foul heart in twain. Empowered by the fury of her first strike, he smote the second creature before her as well, striking sufficiently well that the black-hearted creature howled it's pain into the dark. (Another 6 stunt point attack, with the hit on the first creature bolstered by the application of a mighty blow). Her attention held by the remaining (and largest) of the beasts before her, she failed to note the oh-so-subtle change than had befallen the first creatures body immediately after it's being slain.

Iah threw her torch over Ogden's head in the wake of her magic, lighting the corridor (luckily it did not go out – it was the only lit light source at the time, Ogden having quenched his) and freeing her to flick her newly acquired bow into her hands. Meanwhile, Lothryn, rejoicing that his and Ogden's blows had somehow managed to stun the feral beasts that fought them, skewered the wounded creature in front of him in near the same place as before, killing it. Ogden brought his own sword down on the creature in front of him, landing it a hefty blow and breaking its collarbone. With the other creature facing him distracted by Ogdens fierce blows, Lothryn at least had the chance to witness the terrible transformation that unfolded before him.

“Oh filth!” the knight swore, gazing down upon the ravaged form of the Dalish elf at his feet, it's anguished eyes locked with his own in silent condemnation.

The creature that Laria had wounded, perhaps confused or angered by the anguished howling of its lesser companions, quickly turned and, in a frenzy, began clawing blindly at the dwarf, causing some terrible wounds, even as it once again tried to clench its jaws around the sweet, tortured flesh of Laria. The last of the smaller fiends, so recently wounded by Ogden, lunged at Lothryn, taking advantage of the knights horrified distraction to clamp teeth around his leg.

Laria's attempts to finish the leader of the beasts were defeated by its sheer ferocity. So intent was she upon keeping the beast's be-fanged maw away from her that her own blows were to prove ineffective. Iah's arrow, fired at the creature facing Lothryn, also failed to injure a foe, flying wide due to her lack of skill with such devices as much from her care to avoid hitting the embattled knight.

However, as the creature ducked, it ran into the path of Lothryn's blade. Though the wound was but a nick and barely deep, it sank into the creatures flesh deep enough to open a vein in it's neck. Screeching it's rage, this, the creatures claws scrabbled ineffectually against the knight for a brief moment before it fell into a mewling, ex-sanguineating heap at the mighty warriors feet.

Buoyed by the knights success, Ogden moved to attack the final, largest creature from the rear. He managed to knick the creatures arm, but the horrific, fallen thing barely paused to take notice. Scrabbling with tooth and claw against Laria's shield, the beast was unable to land a further blow on the exhausted, tiring swords-woman, her shield turning away it’s blows at the cost of great effort. Her own blows, wielded in a hand slick with her own blood, were too weak to penetrate the thick, warty hide of the darkspawn before her. Laria knew if the creature were not soon slain, it would likely take her with it into death.

Lothryn charged the creature one of the creatures, slipping his longsword through the ribcage and bringing forth a great gush of foul smelling black blood, yet still unable to pierce the heart. Ogden too, failed to finish the creature, his blow lacking much in the way of strength, fatigue taking its toll on the skill of even this doughty warrior. Seemingly only further enraged by the near-mortal blow dealt it by the knight, the creature leaps upon Laria with the strength only a dying form can lend, clamping jaws around her neck and squeezing, tearing forth a great lump of her shoulder between masticating jaws.

Iah, calling in fear for the life of her friend, looses an arrow from trembling fingers that failed to find a mark. Yet it was Lothryn, again, who had slain so many foes that day already, that would save the life of the young swords-mistress. His blow followed the path of his previous thrust, striking further and deeper, finally popping the great muscle deep in the creatures chest that forced the black, cursed blood of the darkspawn through it's veins. The creature coughed once, gurgled loudly, and expired, messily, on the floor.

Grabbing Iah by the shoulder, Lothryn all but propelled Iah towards her terribly wounded, blood-splattered childhood friend, turning his own attention to warding the door from which the foul beasts came. So much blood was there, and so grievous were Laria's wounds, that it seems likely Iah would have used healing magic then regardless of whether the knight back had been so conveniently turned. Iah poured as much of her mana into the spell as she could in a single casting, near-sealing Laria's shoulder wound as it never was, causing new flesh to form and pink, thin skin to settle over the wound. There would be a nasty scar there to forever remind the lass of her near brush with death, but at least she lived. Iah thereafter set about tending her friends wounds by more mundane means, cleaning, bandaging and sewing where she may while Ogden and Lothryn stood guard. 

Investigating, Lothryn soon saw that the door led to a barracks room, strewn with hastily strewn and much soiled straw. From the relatively cleared spaces and the various nests, he judged that perhaps thirty to forty creatures had only recently left there, perhaps, going by the smell of fresh waste, only a few hours before their own arrival. Lothryn was disconcerted even as he was relieved. He could think of only one reason why so many creatures had left the keep. Alas, his fears would prove well founded.

Meanwhile, out in the corridor, Iah caught a glimpse of the bodies around her and gasped. Ogden very quickly shut the damaged door leading into the chamber with the cells. It would not do for the Dalish to see the bodies of their loved ones strewn about in this state. Moreover, how could they explain it?

While a pale but much recovered Laria stood guard, Ogden and Ser Lothryn set about dragging the bodies -all the bodies, even those of the skeletons (for the party had made the connection with regards to the creatures unusually fine and well made weapons) - into the barracks. 

Finally, Lothryn and Iah re-opened the door to the cells, approaching the male elf and gradually, though not without effort -seeming to gain his trust. Under questioning, the elf explained that he and the other prisoners were the survivors of a raid on the Dalish caravan that had left Vintiver under a cloud a week ago. Other males had been dragged off from time to time until -gradually- he came to be the only one left. He too would have vanished by now, he suspects, had not nearly the entire darkspawn population of the dungeon gone tearing off into the woods not half a day before the parties arrival – for which he gives thanks to Eshara and her mad risk in stealing the “demons” silver link. 

“For surely”, he adds, “that is what they are after.”

(And where is the silver link? Why, back at Vintiver of course. I still can't figure out why they left it there. It's not like I hadn't dropped enough hints of it's importance or anything).

The party share a look that says “Oh shit!” as clearly as if the word had been spoken aloud. They are all in a rush to make best speed back to Vintiver, when Ogden suddenly tells them to to hush. They still have one more door to open at least. At that, the male elf screams and curses, dancing back towards his cell which he slams shut behind him. 

“Dont release me till you've cleared this place out!” he screams. “I'll not let the last of my clan die because you didn't think to kill every foe first.” The elf will not be dissuaded, even though Lothryn is fairly sure that the final door in the corridor leads the last chamber of the keep -one he could not enter when last he came this way.

Leaving the terrified Dalish huddled in their pitiful, cramped cells, the party moves up the now blood-spattered corridor to the door of the final room. Lothryn is surprised that a the feeling of dread terror that descended upon him the last time he appraoched this door is no longer present. Listening at the door, Laria can just make out a faint crackling sounds from within. Upon entering they found another large round chamber, smaller than the first, lit by a glowing, crackling blue sigil in the floor. The walls themselves are lined with shelves containing books and every other manner of wizardly paraphernalia.

Opposite the door, a stone table sits with a massive, leather bound book some four feet perched atop a lectern. Two long chains of various mixed base metals, including links of iron, copper and lead, extend from this altar table to the sigil itself. Each is broken at one end, as though a single, unifying link were missing.Wisely, no-one touches the sigil (which Iah recognises as a warding glyph, though she does not disclose this information in the presence of Ser Lothryn) and although they approach the book, all thoughts of reading it are expunged by a single glimpse at the pictures contained within and the rust brown colour of the ink.

“Lets get out of here.” is the verdict of a disquieted, and unsettled party.

[next] session six

[previous] session four

[first] session one

[background] life of lady nimue

[Session 4] Dragon Age - Monday 8th February 2010

Write-up by Dangerous Brian

The six travellers share a look, first between themselves before all eyes direct quite fixedly upon Iah. The three knights in particular seem to be awaiting her decision. Iah seems inclined to ride past and on to Restenford – if only because her party is somewhat small and may fair poorly against what she has decided must be a band of Malegaunt's raiders. She seems unsure as to whether or not these lands are actually hers, however, but when informed by Shelby that the smoke is almost certainly coming from the direction of Vintiver, one of her manors, Iah decides she must investigate.

She certainly seems reluctant to do so – looking around she can see that Garrett in particular shares her view that this particular bridge is becoming something of an albatross (* this is where their encounter with a dying man in session one lead to an encounter with dark-spawn). However, it is perhaps this memory that spurs her on. Mayhap it is not Malegaunt at all, but more darkspawn?

Leaving Fossett and Garrett behind to guard the cart and it's cargo of treasure, Iah orders Shelby to escort her and the others over the bridge towards the smoke. They ride at speed, somewhat alarmed by how loudly the old wooden beams groan and shake beneath their thundering hooves. Riding through the low, yellow stubble of recently harvested fields, they soon top a rise to find that the smoke stems, not from Vintiver itself, but from a small outlying thorpe. It's four buildings are smouldering, with some small flames blazing still, though the barn seems to have burnt itself out already (*the result of a grain explosion and subsequent flash fire).

As they draw closer through the fields, they spot a caparisoned horse, bearing an unknown livery, tethered to a post in a clear area between the four buildings. Nearby a neat line of bodies have been arranged in rows. Judging by how calmly the horse stands amongst the smoke and the stench of burnt flesh, this is a mount bred for war. The horse smells the approach of the party steeds and, raising a whiny, draws the attention of a lone armoured form struggling into view. The figure is that of a tall, muscular man in the armour of a knight, dragging what appears to be a human corpse from the shell of one of the buildings. The mail-clad figure lowers the corpse to the ground and raises a hand to it's eyes to ward the sun.

While Iah and her party slow their speed of approach from a gallop to a canter (in part to show their good intentions) the man calmly wanders over to his horse and removes his sword belt from his saddle-bags. He belts it around his waist even as the four riders enter the common yard. Calmly raising his hand, he calls out:

“Close enough! Who goes there? What know you of this atrocity?”

Iah calls out to him that she is the Lady Iah, and that she has every right to be here since the knight stands upon her lands. The party are somewhat alarmed when the knight snorts loudly at their answer and announces:

“These are the lands of Lord Malegaunt, and I his appointed warden. By what right do you claim them as yours.”

Iah's claim that she is the daughter of Lady Nimue, newly come into her inheritance are met by an even louder snort and an expression of scorn. The knight calls out that Lady Nimue had no daughter -at least not that she ever confided in him.

At this, Iah, somewhat surprised, asks if the knight knew her mother. Of course he did, comes the reply, “For it was by her order that I came to be warden of these lands, first for her, and now, for her son.”

Iah again protests that she is indeed Lady of these lands and, half in jest, a very suspicious knight calls out for her to prove it.

Triumphantly, Iah shouts out that she has signed and sealed papers proving her claim. The still unknown knight laughs and simply asks if he looks like a clerk?

“Read your papers? I'm a knight, not a damned scribe. Come lady, you'll have to do better than that if you expect me to believe you.”

(* At this point, out of character, Andy points out that he's just found ten of his people murdered by raiders and now these four strangers have turned up and suddenly declared that one of them is his lord. As far as Ser Lothryn, is concerned, he's dealing with a mad woman, a crazy dwarf, another lunatic whose wearing her father's stolen breaches and some whelp dressed up in daddy's armour pretending to be a knight. They're going to have to work hard if they want him to believe their claims.)

Laria asks if there might be a priestess in Vintiver who can read. The knight affirms that there is -but she's in Vintiver, and they are here. Ogden grumbles and makes some unfriendly noises while looking to his axe. The knight gives him a very dirty look, but at glances from Shelby, Laria and Iah, the dwarf settles.

Then Iah has an epiphany. “I have my mothers signet. Would you recognise that.” 

She holds her hand out for inspection, so that the knight may see the ring for himself. However, the knight is rather wisely keeping a good twenty feet between himself and the party and has no inclination to come any closer. He is outnumbered, after all. And he has good cause to be suspicious.

After a few nervous glances, Iah makes to dismount and approach this knight whom she herself has cause to suspect – he's declared himself for Maleguant after all. Which, given what she knows of her brother, is not a ringing endorsement of this knight's character. However, Shelby intercepts her. Thrusting the tip of his sword in the dirt, Shelby takes the ring from her lady-ship and cautiously hands it over to the knight.

The still un-named knight examines the ring closely and does indeed recognise the ring. Not only the pattern of the engraved seal itself, but a few familiar scratches in the metalwork as well.

His suspicions partly allayed, the knight introduces himself as Ser Lothryn. Without any trace of apology, he admits that the seal appears to be in order. He allows that he will give “mi'lady” the benefit of the doubt for the time being. But warns that he will have her parchment inspected by the Priestess as soon as they return to the village itself.

“But” he warns, “Should your claims prove false, I shall be... displeased.”

At this Laria dismounts and offers to help the knight collect and bury the dead. Ser Lothryn looks even more startled at this offer than he did by Iah's claims to be his overlord. Before the knight can reply, Ser Shelby points out that such work is not fit for a lady.

This is too much for Laria, she has been criticised for her dress, her behaviour and her willingness to fight for her friends. Tearfully, she asks Shelby why he thinks her so helpless?

Shelby, taken aback, protests loudly that one thing Laria is not is helpless: “Miss, you held off three assassins all alone not three nights ago, saving the life of the woman I am sworn to serve. And what's more, you did so without armour and clad only in your night gown. No milady, you may be many things, but helpless you most certainly are not.”

At this, to Laria's surprise, Shelby bows to her, not so deep as he would to a lady like Iah, but certainly as low as he would bow to a Tancred or a Rolland. Laria is much affected by this display, the first sign of respect from anyone other than Iah or Ogden she has received since leaving the Abbey. She mutters something about seeing to the horses whilst lowering her head to hide her pleasure -and to blink back appreciative tears. Meanwhile, Ser Lothryn's reaction to this revelation concerning the odd lass with the sword on her belt is carefully guarded. His thoughts remain his own.

Ogden grumbles, but at Iah's insistence he also dismounts to assist the two human men. Shelby meanwhile, heads off towards the barn, the least damaged building, in the hope of finding some shovels. Ogden, at a loss, follows. Laria thereafter takes the reins of the loose horses -not wanting them to bolt as they did at the bridge a week ago. Iah, meanwhile, stays mounted, and begins to ask Ser Lothryn several questions about what happened here. Prudently suspicious, the good knight keeps his answers vague. He has a fair inkling about what caused all this bother, but he's not about to tell a stranger. Even one that might be his new lady – or at least his lord's sister. She does learn however that none of the dead bore wounds from weapons, but nearly all were wounded by claws of somesort, larger than that of a wolf or a bear. Two thoughts run through Iah's head at this: werewolves (for they are said to dwell still under the boughs of the nearby Brecilian Forest) or else the wolf-like beasts they fought at the stranger's cabin a week before. Neither option seems particularly pleasant.

Shelby disappears into the gloom of the barn, quickly letting out a shout of alarm. Ogden and Ser Lothryn (by dint of his longer legs) arrive at the barn together to find the younger knight kneeling beside a charred, yet breathing form. In the gloom, little can be made out about her save that she is, in fact, a woman. And a somewhat slight one at that. Ser Lothryn exclaims his surprise. Ten people lived in this small collection of homes. Ten. And he has already accounted for them all.

While Shelby and Lofryn put their backs into moving the beam, Ogden sticks his head out the remains of the barn door and yells for Iah and her herbs.

Leaving Laria outside with the now even more unsettled horses, Iah grabs her healing bag from her saddle and runs towards the barn. By the time she arrives, the two knights have lifted the beam clear. Lothryn and Ogden are about to move her to where light streams in through the burned out thatch when Iah screams at them not to move her.

Ogden simply drops the woman's arm there and then, almost letting her head smack into the hard ground, were it not for the quick actions of Lothryn on the other arm. The Knight, Shelby and just about everyone else (meaning Iah) shoot the dwarf a dirty look. The dwarf offers a shrug in his own defence. “But you said drop her?”. No-one (in-character anyway) is amused.

Iah calls to Laria to bring her a few more things from her saddle. Laria ties the horses to the same post as Lofryn's mount (which eyes her wearily) before she grabs the bag and runs.

Laria arrives just as Iah finishes patting down the unconscious woman for signs of open wounds, impalement, or broken bones. Satisfied, she instructs Shelby and a grumbling Ogden that it is now safe to move her. While they carry the woman outside into better light, Ser Lothryn goes to fetch his bed roll from his saddle.

Upon his return, he stops dead in his tracks at the sight of the woman's pointed, elf ears. Though he knows this will mean trouble, he does not deign to explain why just yet. By the woman's intricate facial tattoos Iah marks her as one of the nomadic Dalish elves. She and Laria remember that a caravan of these folk had been encamped in these parts -near Vintiver itself in fact- when last they rode this way a week ago. Iah alone also notices that, clenched tightly in her hands, is a single, silver link of some thick chain – like a portcullis chain perhaps. Or a manacle. She calls it to the attention of the others.

It is then that the notice, coming across the fields from the direction of Vintiver, a party of perhaps thirty people, all clutching scythes, pitchforks and other farm implements, a few hundred yards away. Even at this distance, they sound angry. And afraid.


Ser Lothryn calls out to the villagers as they approach, waving to reassure them that there is no danger at present.

(*Spoiler Actually, if Andy hadn't joined us this session, there would have been danger. But this seemed the best place to bring him into the story. Having the heroes just “happen by” while Ser Lothryn was fighting for his life - thereby instantly earning his trust - just seemed too easy. Therefore the scripted encounter was skipped entirely).

As the villagers draw closer, the others make out the looming figure of a massive man bearing a blacksmith's hammer and wearing a thick leather apron. Though most of the villagers stop and stare as soon as they are close enough to identify the wounded woman as an elf, this giant of a man lets out an incoherent howl of rage and lunges for the woman, hammer raised high above his head.

Recognising the blacksmith's murderous intentions, Laria and Iah quickly interpose themselves – only for Shelby and Ogden to interpose themselves between the girls and the blacksmith a few seconds later.

Fortunately, Ser Lothryn's outraged shout brings the blacksmith short before bloodshed ensures – the knight reminding the smith that it is Ser Lothryn himself who holds the power of low justice in this region and not one Master Cobden, village Blacksmith.

The crowd grumbles at this, echoing Cobden's insistent belief that it is the elf and her kind that are responsible for the recent raids on the manor. Lothryn explains in no uncertain terms that the wounds caused by the raiders were not made by weapons and that the elf is likely as much a victim as the locals. They seem appeased rather than alarmed by the statement, though at the back one or two men can be heard to utter the dread term, “werewolves”. A few begin to fidget with their weapons and glance at Iah's party nervously. Even these stalwarts shut up at a sharp gaze from the good Ser Lothryn. The village knight explains that the girl will be brought to the village chantry and questioned -as will the strangers.

Shelby is somewhat reluctant to simply leave his brothers stranded on the road with a great deal of money at this point – especially with raiders afoot. He departs to escort them in with Iah and Ser Lothryn's blessing. Laria offers to accompany him but Shelby quietly mutters that he'd feel better with someone other than Ogden looking after his lady. Laria reluctantly agrees.

By the time he returns with Fossett and Garrett, Ser Lothryn has already delegated the villagers to digging graves – partly to keep them from causing trouble- and has elected to leave Cobden in charge while he escorts the party and the elf girl to Restenford (another wise move on Andy's part, since it serves as a sop to the blacksmith's pride after his earlier humiliation and reinforces the blacksmith's position and authority as the village Alderman).

While Ogden and the squires lift the elf onto their cart, Laria organises the horses. Iah sits beside the injured elf on the cart, allowing Ser Lothryn to lead the way to the village proper. Along the way the several more small hamlets and thorpes, all of which belong to the manor of Vintiver. The party is joined by a half dozen villagers on foot, all of whom are a little old to be digging ditches yet not, it seems, too old to take up arms when the need arises.

Approaching the village proper, Iah and her party see around twenty homes running along one side of a single track. On the opposite side from the cottages, with their wattle-and-daub walls and small herb gardens at the rear, can be found the village manor house -a large wooden building with it's own yard and stables – and the village chantry. Between the two runs what appears to be the village green, a large, grassy area where animals roam, albiet tethered to a few solid wooden posts. Three fields lie scattered about the village, with the north field bearing the stubble of freshly cut crops and that to the south having been newly ploughed for the winter crop. The final, eastern, field is filled with long grass, ready to be cut to produce hay for the winter. All in all, Restenford proves to be a rather presentable village with a population of anywhere between a hundred and two hundred and fifty. The chantry itself is rather well made, being composed of local stone, but it is still a rather small building for it's type. The villagers could probably squeeze into it for protection for a night or two, but there is insufficient room for their animals or crops. Nevertheless being the only stone building in the village, it is the best defensive position to be found.

The party is greeted by a crowd of concerned womenfolk, who rush to the half-dozen or so returning menfolk to hear news of their kin. One or two turns away, sobbing, to be comforted by friends, but for the most part their reaction to the news of the villagers is one of relief. None of them will be mourning lost husbands today.

Outside the chantry, upon the steps, stands a familiar figure – the nameless Priestess from the bandit camp. The woman raises a hand to her mouth in shock at the sight of Iah and her companions, fleeing pale-faced into the darkness of the chantry. The party is no less surprised to see the Priestess - but even more surprised at her reaction.

(*It doesn't actually occur to the players that the last thing the woman might want to see right now is a group of people who not only know of her ordeal, but who very nearly shared the same fate).

Despite the relief that a battle has not taken place, the village women are understandably in an uproar at the fate of their neighbours. Hate-filled glances from villagers of all ages and both genders are directed at the wounded elf as Ogden and the knights carry her from the cart. Once again, Ser Lothryn raises his voice to calm the angry crowd. He proclaims that he shall reveal all he can to the villagers once he has spoken to the elf. They listen respectfully and, out of respect for their protector, disperse back to their homes.

Unsure for how long he can keep the trust of the villagers in the face of this unknown evil, Ser Lothryn shakes his head sadly and follows Iah and Ogden into the chantry. As Fossett and Shelby emerge to fetch the treasury chest inside, Laria departs with the party's mounts to tie them securely to a hitching post on the village common.

She steps inside the chantry in time to see a flustered Priestess (who by now has been introduced by Ser Lothryn as Sister Arda) conducting a whispered and somewhat hurried conversation with the village knight by the eternal flame. Laria herself joins Iah and Ogden by the altar, on which the wounded elf now lies. Shelby, Fossett and Garrett, meanwhile, loiter by the double doors leading outside, with Garrett resting on the treasury chest, which he uses as a make-shift seat in the pew-less hall.

Their conversation over for the time being, Sister Arda and Ser Lothryn approach the altar stone and the wounded elf. Iah greets the sister warmly and deferentially; the sister replies with as much warmth as she can muster, but has the discomforted look of one who would wish to be almost any place else but where she finds herself. Sensing Sister Arda's mood, Iah very quickly turns the conversation to the wounded elf and her condition. The two set to examining the girl's wounds briefly, conferring amongst themselves to agree a course of treatment and then separate briefly once again when the Sister retires to a side chamber to fetch the necessary herbs and unguents.

In her absence, Ser Lothryn steers Iah to one side by the elbow and asks again how she came to have Lady Nimue's ring. He listens patiently but with some scepticism as Iah outlines her adventures over the last two weeks and offers up her documentation for his inspection. When Sister Arda returns, she and Lothryn leave Iah to tend to her ministrations while they retire once again to the warmth and light of the eternal flame to purview the documents in question.

(*In game, I handed Lothryn's player the actual handout outlying Lady Nimue's Will which I prepared before session one and presented to the other characters during the reading of the Will).

The two whisper quietly together for a while once the Priestess has finished reading. The knight asks the Sister how she knows the strangers and what their history is. Understandably, she is reluctant to elaborate but confirms that she has met them once before -briefly- on the road and that they were in the company of Bann Rolland, who was mentioned in the Will. Sister Arda asks Ser Lothryn what he intends to do. When he affirms that he is not yet sure -and will not be till he has spoken with the elf- she asks for an escort to the graves of the dead that she might pray for them and conduct the appropriate funerary rites. While she leaves via a side door to her quarters to make preparations, Ser Lothryn disappears through the opposite door (the chantry is shaped approximately like a crucifix, with the main doors at the base and the altar at the head). He returns to the main worship hall after but a minute or two.

(*While out of sight he stuck his head out the Vestry window and called over two village lads, one of whom he sent north to speak with Bann Rolland, the other he sent South and East to speak with the Abbess and Ser Faradin).

While Sister Arda and Ser Lothryn are otherwise engaged, Iah notices her patient's eyes flickering. Iah calls Laria over and conducts a loud conversation about how they mean the elf no harm, do not blame her for the attacks and hope she can help them uncover the truth about the raids. Laria looks at Iah as though she's suddenly grown a second head for a few moments before quickly catching on and electing to play along.

At this point, Lothryn returns to the worship hall. Approaching Iah, he returns her documents and confirms that they appear to be in order and that he will continue to give “mi'lady” the benefit of the doubt until he receives confirmation of the Will's authenticity. He does not, at this point, reveal that he has sent two couriers speeding off on his spare horses to do just that.

While the two high-born discuss the politics of inheritance, Laria leaves the chantry to keep watch on their horses from the chantry steps. The horses are, of course, perfectly safe in this small and rather innocuous village, but Laria does not know that for sure. All the tales she has heard since leaving the Abbey -and almost all she has experienced since- has taught her to be cautious and mistrustful of strangers.

Ogden tires of his chat with the boys and wanders over to the altar. He and Ser Lothryn begin to discuss the town's defences. After a few moments, Ser Lothryn assures himself that the elf will not be talking to him any time soon. He invites the company to join him for dinner at the manor house and leaves to inform his staff of the presence of visitors.

As he leaves, he calls out to a few of the more steady local lads newly returned from grave-digging and has them stand guard by doors – to keep an eye on both the wounded elf and his guests.

Unaware of the event, Iah sends Ogden and the boys up to the manor. However, the three knights linger outside the chantry to discuss who should stay to keep and eye on the elf and the treasury and who should head up to the manor. Fossett insists that the chantry is the safest place for the chest and that they should take turns to guardboth it and the “prisoner”. Ogden quickly tires of the discussion and follows after Lothryn.

Inside the chantry Iah informs the elf that it is now safe to cease her masquerade. Only the three girls – Iah, Laria and the elf, remain in the worship hall. The elf's eyes flicker involuntarily at this news. Iah and Laria gradually coax her into giving up her game and conversing with them. As the elf rises from her supine pose, Iah notices her palming the silver link. When asked about it the elf, Eshara, says it’s a meaningless memento and of no import. Gradually they coax her into revealing that her caravan (the one they saw a few weeks ago) was run out of town following an altercation that led to the former priest (not Sister Arda) killing one of the Dalish in a fight. However, no sooner had they entered the woods than the clan came under attack – often by night, with lone hunters and even whole families being snatched in the night one by one. She explains that a few days after they left Vintiver, the entire caravan was attacked in the night and her people massacred. A few captives were taken to a dark place in the woods from which she managed to escape. She can tell them little of the foe she fled from, save that the creature who led these “dark beings” called itself Malice. She took refuge in the barn after her escape, but Malice's servant creatures followed her somehow and massacred all present before tearing the thorpe apart. The girl is terrified -almost frantic- throughout and begs to be allowed to flee since this “thing” undoubtedly knows where she is.

When the two women promise to protect her, she can only laugh hysterically through eyes filled with tears and swear that nothing can protect her now. “Let me go,” she says, “Or else surely it will find me here too.” To Laria's astonishment, Iah agrees and lets her go.

Hardly able to believe her luck and in something of a panic, the lass bolts out of the Chantry -straight through the double doors onto the main street of town, where the three knights and Lothryn's appointed men quickly bear her to the ground, raising a hue and cry in the process.

And then Cobden stalks out of the crowd.

Iah, Laria and the Knights quickly intervene, with Iah once again trying to pull rank on a man who has absolutely no concept of who she is. “Who are you, wench, to tell an Alderman what he can't do in his own damn village,” is Cobden's rather predictable reaction. Just as predictably, he scoffs when Iah (truthfully) reveals who she is.“We'll see what Lord Malegaunt has to say about that, little girl.”


Fortunately, Lothryn quickly arrives to, once again, disperse the gathering with an outstanding display of oratory. He orders the villagers to return home and just as briskly (if not angrily) orders the others back inside the chantry. Shelby and Garrett take pains to ensure that a weeping and rather terrified Eshara joins them. The enraged knight rather firmly insists that Iah explain why he was not summoned the instant the elf awoke. He also demands to know why on earth they could not prevent her escape. His reaction to Iah's admirably honest answer involves several long, deep breaths and an all too quiet (menacingly quiet, in fact) lecture on the responsibilities of the nobility with regards to the law.


Satisfied with Iah's evident contrition, Ser Lothryn asks Sister Arda if she knows anything about this “Malice” creature. She shakes her head before admitting that her local knowledge is limited, given that she took up her post less than a week ago. However, she volunteers to check the village records. When she departs, Fossett sighs loudly and asks Iah if she wouldn't mind confiding what she has learned to the three sworn knights in her service. Who, he takes pains to explain, can't very well do much in the way of protecting her if she doesn't actually take the time to tell them what she might need protecting from. Shelby and Garrett likewise look somewhat displeased in this regard, but neither so much as the highly-strung Fossett.


(*At this point Iah's player seems to realise that she has not been treating her knights with the courtesy or deference due to their rank. Iah's continual refusal to use their title when addressing them has left all three with the impression that she doesn't really feel they are deserving of knighthood. Something which wounds their fragile young egos all the more precisely because they're not entirely convinced they are ready for knighthood either.)


Iah wisely apologies for her neglect in this regard, once again placating her knights with all-too true admission that she is new to the customs of the nobility. She goes on to confess that she is still coming to terms with her own elevation and has given little thought to anyone elses. Satisfied with this explanation, Fossett listens intently while Iah relates the elf's story. Realising that her lady-ship has neglected to ask a few pertinent points (such as where the elf actually escaped from and how to get there) Fossett tries to ascertain this information himself. However, Fossett's punctilious nature and brisk, rather intimidating manner does nothing to settle the elf's unnerved state. If anything, his manner serves only to frighten the lass all the more. “She's clearly simple,” is Fossett's verdict. However at some gentle coaxing from Iah, Laria and (surprisingly) Ogden, the lass reveals she fled from a ruined stone tower deep in the bowels of the Forest, where she and her surviving kin were held prisoner.


Lothryn admits he knows the place she describes rather well, having ventured there once in his youth. He reckons that it lies no more than a days march through the forest, having been over-run by darkspawn during the last blight and long-since reclaimed by the Forest.


After some more prompting from Lothryn and Fossett, Eshara begins to describe the forces under her captor's command. However, she has barely begun to describe the first of these creatures - large, unnatural and seemingly diseased wolves- when Iah leaps in to comment that she has encountered some of these wolves herself, not two weeks ago. The elf exclaims: “Two weeks? Then Hagden could not have been responsible after all?” The conversation then digresses to address who this Hagden is (the answer being that he is the brother of the Dalish elf murdered by the villagers in a brawl and one of the first hunters to disappear in the attacks). The party never does return the conversation to the nature of the creatures that might await the heroes in the depths of the ruin.


Eshara herself is quickly forgotten while the talk among the party quickly turns to the possible presence of dark-spawn and so forth. A grateful Eshara (grateful for the end of her interrogation that is) sinks into silence as Laria relates the story of her encounter with darkspawn at the Bridge nearly two weeks ago.


Conversation thereafter turns to the safety of the village – Lothryn in particular is keen to ensure the security of the villagers. He, Ogden and the knights all suggest fortifying the church and bringing the villagers there overnight. Lothryn especially is keen to depart first thing in the morning for the ruins. Fossett, Shelby and Garrett, all keenly aware of their oaths to protect the innocent, are also all for accompanying the knight on the morrow. However, Iah points out that she will need to accompany the expedition as well – since sister Arda, the only other healer, must remain behind to tend the chantry. She then goes on to add that Laria will need to accompany her as chaperone -what sort of lady would traipse around in the woods with only men for company, after all? Ogden also speaks up and declares that he won't be letting Iah out of his sight.


Lothryn and the knights are hardly pleased by Iah's decision, but they are won over by Iah's argument that the prisoners will need a healer even in the unlikely event that those who wish to rescue them will not. Then Iah laments that, if they all leave, there will be no-one to protect the villagers and (though she does not actually say it) her treasury. Iah's knights see where she is going with this and protest vehemently at being left behind. They relent when Iah explains there is no-one she trusts more to protect her people and her future (an oblique reference to the gold) in her absence. Even so, Shelby is particularly insistent that at least one of the brothers should accompany the party. It takes Fossett to remind Shelby that his oath included obedience to their lord, and, in effect, that he should shut the hell up and do as he is told.


(It's at this point that I make a point of asking Silv and Aimee -as the novice's in the group- what sort of supplies they think they will need for the expedition. Andy, Caroline and I are all very impressed when Silv rattles off, with very little time for thought, the four essentials for adventuring: food, water, rope and torches).

As the good Sister and Ser Lothryn depart to summon the villagers for an overnight stay at the chantry, Ogden sets about scrounging up some necessary supplies at the manor. He fills a half dozen bladders with well water as well as collecting bread, cheese, rope and a dozen torches from the manor house stores. Upon his return, Lothryn looks over Ogden's efforts with approval, pausing only to send a lad running off to the manor house to fetch a few bladders of oil as well. “If in doubt, burn it,” is the village knights advice when it comes to anything unnatural. Laria makes a point of tracking down some string and some rope for their explorations as well, just in case the ruin proves to be larger than they expect.


Dawn's early light brings forth both relief and tears from the village women, while their menfolk direct their voices in praise for Andraste. Ser Lothryn, Iah, Laria and Ogden take their leave amidst the well-wishes of the village folk. As her three knights wish her luck, Iah instructs the brothers to keep one eye on the elf and the other on Cobden (there follows several quips at poor Garrett's expence). They pledge to do all they can to keep the elf and their lady's treasury from harm. Fossett leads his brothers in a prayer for their safety before the party departs. Shelby takes the time to personally wish Laria good luck and express his confidence in her ability to keep her ladyship safe.


As the party makes ready to leave, Eshara calls out in a plaintive voice that they should not go. When Iah tries to reassure her, the elf girl simply hisses that she is a fool. “You should be running!” is the last thing she says before returning to the chantry under the watchful eyes of the three brothers.


As the four heroes set out on foot from the village, their last sight of the chantry shows them Sister Arda, alone on the steps, calling down the blessings of the Maker upon them. Not long after that, the stone building disappears they hear the deep, sepulchral boom of the chantry doors thundering shut behind them.


At the edge of the forest the group (at Lothryn's urging) takes the time to oil and ready their weapons. Given the nature of the undergrowth, Lothryn suggests they travel in single file. Though the other three quickly arrange themselves behind him with Ogden next, then Iah and Laria bringing up the rear, Lothryn balks at the thought of leaving a woman exposed at the rear of the party. Following his instructions, Laria and Ogden swap places, placing the heavily armoured dwarf at the rear of the formation. While they march under the dark eaves, Laria is very much aware of her surroundings, examining every bush and tree-branch with the eye of a veteran hunter. Her crossbow points wherever her eyes look.


The only familiar noise is the occasional chink of mail from the two men in armour.
The slightest natural sound has them on edge. Every few moments, they hear a wolf howl far off in the distance. Even the buzzing of a few wasps, still living long after most of their kind have vanished with the death of summer, seems somehow threatening in this murky wood.


After many hours of travel through thickly interwoven branches and the thick detritus of the deep-forest floor, they come across a wide ravine in the earth. A fallen tree spans the gap, though the tree itself is rotten with age and it's surface thickly coated in slippery moss and lichens. Ser Lothryn looks about him and declares that they are now close to the keep.


Rather than lose time hacking through the brambles to circumvent the obstacle, Ogden elects to try the bridge – but not before tying one end of the rope about his waist and the other to a tree. Ser Lothryn takes up the slack on the rope, digging his heels deep into the slippery forest floor. Above, from the branch of a withered tree four crows watch intently as the dwarf begins to cross. A fifth soon joins them to observe the proceedings. Growing suspicious, as knowing that Malice is served by other beasts of the forest, Laria keeps an intent eye on the doings of these strange birds, her crossbow loaded and held ready.


By the time Ogden has inched most of the way across, every spare space on the tree in question is occupied by crows. Laria nods to Iah and expresses her very reasonable fear that something strange is going on. Iah agrees and, just as Ogden is about to reach the other side of the fallen log, she calls out. “Be careful Ogden, I don't like this”.


(By sheer coincidence, Laria's player says this just as Ogden fails his final dex check to cross successfully. Being a typical GM -and therefore a bit of a sadist- I decide that it is this sudden warning that distracts the dwarf and causes him to plummet from the log).


Ogden slips, his concentration lost as he suddenly looks about for some threat, thereby shifting his already uncertain balance and sending him plummeting off the side of the log. Fortunately, Lothryn sees him about to go and braces up in time to stop the dwarf falling into the brush filled ravine below, brush that (now he is close enough for a good look) Ogden can't help but notice bears rather large, dangerous looking thorns from which a viscous liquid drips in quivering anticipation.


Alas, the poor dwarf does not long have time to gaze upon the certainty of death just inches from his dangling feet, for it is then that a swarm of black fluttering wings and dagger-sharp beaks descend upon them.


(Rather than use the beasties described in the scenario I used a home-made crow-swarm. I decided there were 30 birds in the flock, and that each round the birds would dish out a total of 1d6 damage for every 6 birds, with the dice allocated between various characters. Each bird had just one health point, but unless the characters were using area effect weapons, each attack would only kill a maximum of one bird per damage dice rolled for the weapon. It proved to be a very effective improvisation. The swarm would certainly have been even more lethal had Andy not remembered to bring the oil.)


Even before Ogden swings to a halt on the end of his rope, the birds leap from their branches. Laria's quick reactions allow her to shoot her bolt even as the birds take flight, sending a pair of birds streaking towards the ground in a cloud of black feathers. Recognising that the evil avians will soon be upon them, she throws aside her bow and reaches for her blade.


While most of the birds swarm around Ogden, the heavily armoured dwarf proves impervious to their beaks. The much more lightly armoured Laria is less lucky, their beaks tearing through her hunting leathers to leave dozens of small wounds on her body. Iah, dressed only in simple travelling clothes, is even less fortunate. Though she manages to protect her face and eyes, her clothing provides so little protection that she might as well be naked before the crows' attack.


Lothryn, like Ogden, is almost completely impervious to their beaks. Which is fortunate, since there is little he can do to defend himself while he holds onto the rope. "Somebody get the oil off my belt!” he shouts, shaking his head to prevent the birds from striking his vulnerable eyes.


It is fortunate then, that Ogden quickly and deftly climbs back onto the log, which he then wraps with both arms and legs as he strives desperately to hold on in the face of a buffeting from the birds.


Iah runs through the flock, swinging her arms about her head trying to fend off the crows and more and more sense her vulnerability and take wing towards her. She reaches Lothryn and, fumbling blindly, pulls a bladder of oil from the knights belt.


Meanwhile, Laria crouches down to make herself less of a target and, hiding her face, swings blindly with her blade, bringing down another of the birds.


Iah and Laria again suffer wounds as the birds swarm them, now largely ignoring the two armoured males to focus their attacks on the more vulnerable female party members. Fortunately, Lothryn is able to let go of the rope now that Ogden has climbed to relative safety on the log-bridge. He swings his pack to the ground and fumbles blindly inside for a moment, before triumphantly finding both a torch and a flint-and-steel for fire-lighting.


Now largely ignored by the crows, Ogden crawls to the far end of the ravine, standing up once he reaches the other side and looking about him for foes within reach of his axe. Alas, all the foes are swarming Iah and Laria on the other side of the ravine.


Iah kneels down before Lothryn, tucking her face into her knees and holding the oil bladder out, ready to squeeze on an instruction from Lothryn.


Laria likewise tucks herself into a ball and concentrates on defending herself from the swarming birds.


(I decided that rather than add 2 to the characters defence, in this case -since the crows didn't need to make an attack roll- it would add to the armour rating instead).


However despite her efforts Iah is ripped very nearly to shreds, suffering more wounds from the birds in the space of a few seconds that she has thus far in the entire encounter. It's almost as though the crows sense what she and Lothryn are up too. However, the crows fail to knock the bladder from her hands. Nor does the buffeting of their many wings prevent Lothryn from lighting his torch on the second attempt.


As Ogden watches helplessly from the other side of the ravine, Iah thumps the oil bladder with the palm of her hand, sending flames jutting into the air when the oil is ignited by the flames of Lothryn's torch. Taking advantage of the confusion this causes among the panicking birds and plummeting, flaming feathers, Iah unleashes a mindblast under Ser Lothryn's very nose. The surviving crows, those that do not flutter to the ground from flame or magic, scatter to the four winds. Soon the only creatures yet living by the ravine are the characters themselves, standing upon a carpet of dead or dying crows.


(I elected to treat the improvised flame thrower as a Flame Burst spell- a house rule which Ill probably keep using in future games By the end of the fight, Ogden and Lothryn had barely been scratched, but Laria was down to 26 health from 39 and Iah was sitting scared on just 5 health points. The whole encounter proved to be a fine lesson in the relevance of the old adage: “Protect the Mage – He's your nuke!” )

[next] session five

[previous] session three

[first] session one

[background] life of lady nimue