Post by Dead Greyhawk on Aug 9, 2007 22:31:01 GMT -5
Al and Raven, accompanied by Jasper, Frank, and several of the Colnet retainers, survey the surrounding hillsides. The Little Hills, as seen before when approaching the city of Longspear, are bare of enemy forces of note. A fast moving band of men can easily avoid engagement, so long as no attempt to interfere with the investing army is made. Al bids the others farewell. He will attempt to rally his clan and the other hill dwarves near to Longspear to strike in the upcoming battle. While Al is not, and can not, be a Dwarven Lord, he is related by his mother's sister's husband's brother's wife's mother's second-marriage to Dain Ironmelder, Dwarven Thane of the Little Hill clans. If Al can convince the Thane to come to the aid of the city, Al will provide the direction. Wishing each other well, Al departs to the south.
Raven leads the others back to the Hall of the Blue Sun, back-tracking several times to hide their final destination from the orc scouts that sometimes parallel them. The Hall appears much as before, invested by deserters or lost militia-men and operating on a barter economy. Frank and Raven quickly take command of the men present, repressing them into service or organizing those who have simply lost others of their command. Frank also rides the surrounding hills, hoping to, and sometimes actually succeeding, find additional men-at-arms.
Raven and Frank make plans to bring their mostly mounted force against the flank of the besiegers and then drill their men ceaselessly, knowing that their cavalry will be under-equipped and reliant more on discipline than on skill. While putting a brave face to the men, privately, Frank concedes that few of the men are worth their wages, or even their food ration, as warriors.
Two days before they are to leave the Hall and assemble at their rally point, Raven is summoned back to the Hall. Someone has come searching for him by name. Raven unlimbers his bastard sword, the frostbrand recently carried by Otto, and rides back, looking to meet this person who knows of him. Arriving at the Hall, Raven recognizes his mendicant, though it does not relieve his concerns. Cathmandius, priest of Hextor, along with his red-haired leman, his dwarven servitors, and his host of warriors, waits patiently outside of the Hall, Frank having barred his way.
Cathmandius's host seems somewhat depleted in comparison to the days outside of Farvale. The men are hale, but their equipment shows the accumulation of wear and tear and fatigue lines their faces. Even Cathmandius's leman bears a long welt alongside her face, healing well, but likely to leave a scar.
"I wish to speak with you and grant your need for an alliance, of convenience, at least, of necessity, at most," booms Cathmandius. Raven bristles, knowing that, again, Cathmandius has, just as in Longspear before, undercut the public perception of the Company's status relative to Cathmandius's. Raven curtly beckons the skull-clad priest of Hextor into the Hall, leaving Frank to hold the others without.
Raven, weapon still drawn, gestures brusquely at the Churches and the others that occupy the Hall. "Out. Now," he grunts. No one argues with him, especially as the formidable priest lurches through the doorway, stiffened from his long ride. Raven smoothly sheaths his weapon and slides a chair away from one of the larger tables. "Make yourself comfortable," he invites, as he lowers himself into the seat.
Cathmandius and Raven discuss the current state of things. Cathmandius has continued to lead his men against the humanoid army that holds the northern part of the Yeomanry. According to Cathmandius, General Greymouse has received bad advice from Garius Brosingamene. Greymouse holds his troops in a defensive position, protecting Loftwick, but ceding control of the mountain edge to the humanoids. Much land along the Crystalmists and the Hellfurnaces has been lost because of, in Cathmandius's mind, Brosingamene's timidity.
Cathmandius continued his assaults on the humanoid hordes, raining fiery arrows and Hextor's might onto the pathetic humanoids roaming the land, provoking combat with the interlopers at every turn. This committed many of Greymouse's forces in actual battle, rather than allowing them to huddle in fear in their pickets. "Brosingamene was wroth at my valor," declares Cathmandius, "and began a campaign to discredit and blacken my efforts. In the end, Melodius Starson sided with Brosingamene rather than me, and Greymouse bid me hence from the battlefield. Such a slur I could not ignore!"
Cathmandius tells how the Freeholder Crispin Redwall had heard of the siege of Longspear. Freeholder Redwall, having received no aid when his land sent myriad requests to the lords and knights of Keoland, planned to conserve his forces and send none to the east. Instead, Cathmandius declared that he would travel to Longspear to lift the siege himself, showing the meek-minded how to wage war.
The creeds of Hextor are not well-loved in the west, and Cathmandius, knowing that the Company of the Blue Sun laired in the hills near Longspear, decided he needed a sponsor to validate his efforts. Even though the people of Longspear know Cathmandius as a savior for destroying the horrible werewolves snatching folk from the city streets, the sudden arrival of his men, additions since the establishment of his parish, might not be well received. On the other hand, if Cathmandius's men arrived in the presence of some local boys made good, as he understands the Company of the Blue Sun to be, then they would be more welcome.
Raven, constantly insulted by Cathmandius's egotistical, mono-maniacal version of events, struggles to keep his composure. In his head, he weighs the advantages of Cathmandius's help versus its disadvantages. Cathmandius's men are battle-hardened and tested, but are loyal to the priest and no one else. Cathmandius himself is possessed of great mystical power, but is dedicated to a vicious god. Raven is certain that, if Cathmandius is present, he will take whatever credit is available, even if the work was done by others. From under a beetled-brow, Raven contemplates the skull-clad priest and comes to a decision.
"I am glad you have come," he begins. "Ride with me and my men. We strike hard against the besiegers two days hence, to break their hold against Longspear. No timid plan this, but a full-scale assault, the security of the city balanced on the success of the battle. The dwarves march from the south, we from the west, and the rest of the Company lies in wait within the camp, ready to decapitate the leadership of the army. It will be a glorious battle."
"We lack time to integrate your forces with mine," continues Raven. "You and your men should ride on the left flank; Frank, my lieutenant, will hold the right flank. Your side will be facing the strength of the besiegers and offer opportunity for valor and glory. The might of your god is well-suited for such a role."
Cathmandius appears somewhat surprised by Raven's ready acquiescence. Rather than continue to marshal reasons for his inclusion, Cathmandius leans back and regards Raven, perhaps seeing Raven's actual power for the first time. A more wary look comes into the priest's eyes as he leans forward again. "Brosingamene's ill-formed advice hampered us in the Yeomanry. Many a time we could have won critical battles if I and my men were allowed free reign. Instead, we were restricted in strategy and tactics. If I follow your orders, will you consent to full use of our powers and skills?"
Raven stares at the priest, struggling to grasp the nuance of the conversation. What could Cathmandius refer to? The priest's reputation for ruthlessness and his men's penchant to take no prisoners are well known. Raven's understanding of the lore of Hextor is that the god rewards those who win at all costs, eschewing all but the most rigorous of oaths and codes. Raven can only imagine that the Yeomen's stomach turned at the slaughter that Cathmandius's men left behind them on the battlefield, though Otto certainly seemed sturdy enough when it came to prosecuting the art of war. "So long as you follow my lead, and restrain your men from turning against our allies, I will support the tactics you use. Longspear must not fall."
Cathmandius relaxes and smiles at Raven. "Agreed. My allies to work with your allies, all to keep Longspear from falling. We should celebrate our pact. Invite your lieutenants in, and I will bring in mine. On our way through the Yeomanry to here, we routed a noblink warband near Jotenspur, and the master of the town was so pleased he provided me with a collection of fine wines that he had purchased from a merchant a year ago. The vintages are wide ranging and quite delicious. I'm sure you'll enjoy them."
With that, Raven and Cathmandius call in their underlings, who have been warily watching each other outside of the Hall. The Hall becomes the centerpiece of their planning efforts, as they feverishly work, well-lubricated with the rich spirits, to coordinate their forces for the upcoming attack.
As the Company huddles in the subterranean depths of the villa, night turns into day. Winthrop, Oaklock, and Dell, especially Dell, feverishly study their arcana, attempting to prepare for the coming battle. Dell, recently revived from the dead by the power of the dwarven rod of resurrection, is capable of learning and memorizing a wide array of spells, but time is simply lacking. Only a few hours have passed between the Company's defeat of the demonic creatures guarding this cellar and the first rays of the morning sun. Even in that time, though, Otto's golden radiance has slowly faded from sight. The blessing sprayed from the flying, golden-furred elephants onto Otto seems to have run its course, for better or for worse.
Both Oaklock and Winthrop finish what memorization is necessary and pack away those books they have withdrawn. While Dell continues to read and stare at the arcane pages, Otto begins to make his plan. Pfiffwin has kept watch on the cellar, to make certain that none of the undead, or worse, creatures happen upon the Company. The Company is healed from their travails in the catacombs, but have lost a third of their spellcraft with Dell's death and subsequent revival. The priests are also somewhat depleted from the necessary healing of the injured. Otto ponders the optimal attack. Finally, he draws all but Dell and Pfiffwin together.
Otto looks at the surrounding Company, takes a deep breath, and begins. "Here is the plan. We will do something similar to what was done to the White Crows. Winthrop will transform into a small bird and fly to the top of the large pavilion. There, he will rain death and destruction down onto the leadership within the tent. The rest of us will leap to the attack from the villa here. Maximilian, Hugh, and Adrienne will put the fear of their gods and goddess into the packs of ghouls, clearing a path through them to the tent. Diego and I will clear a space among the powerful undead large enough for Dell, Oaklock, and, eventually, Winthrop to operate within. Any of the leaders that survive, or any reinforcements that come, will be dealt with from there. Pfiffwin will skulk about on the perimeter, hiding and attacking the injured. Anyone have any questions?"
Winthrop looks a bit like he's bitten into a rotten prune. "I'm to transform into a bird?" he asks.
Otto nods.
"I'm to fly out to the tent by myself?" he continues.
Otto nods.
"I'm to transform into a gargoyle, or some such, and rain fire into the tent while you all are still hundreds of feet away?" he adds.
Otto nods.
"What am I supposed to do while you all are fighting your way through the crowd, but the entire attention of the army is focused on the fire-raining gargoyle?" he finishes.
"Don't die," responds Otto, closing off this line of questioning. Winthrop still looks like he's bitten into a rotten prune.
Pfiffwin comes jogging down the tunnel. "Sun's up and rising," the gnome reports, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder. Otto and the others look at Dell, who is busily reading his book. Otto fills Pfiffwin in on his role, one that Pfiffwin doesn't seem too concerned about, oddly enough. "Hide and only attack if it's wounded, got it," he avers.
Minutes pass as Dell continues to read, concentrating heavily. Otto is torn. The dweomer Dell is memorizing must be a powerful one, as he has stared at these particular pages for quite some time. Interrupting him would cause all of his effort to be lost, but waiting for him will further delay the Company's attack. The sun is rising in the eastern sky, and Sir Highrider claimed that he would attack at sunrise, so that the orcs would fight facing the glaring sun.
Otto frets and frets as the minutes go by, glaring at Dell and his book. Finally, Dell looks up, notices Otto staring at him, and says, 'What?" Otto grimaces and jerks his thumb at the open corridor behind him, indicating it is time to go. "Right, just let me pack up," mutters Dell, gathering his books about him and storing them within his magical books. Otto jitters from side to side, frustrated and aggrieved by the delay. Finally, Dell is finished and ready to go.
Winthrop then takes time to ward himself against missiles and to change his form, taking on the shape of a blue jay. Otto is beside himself with frustration. An additional delay that could have been avoided! "I'm so glad these people are not Yeomen," he thinks to himself. With a raucous cry, Winthrop flies out ahead of the Company towards the cellar.
The Company finds Pfiffwin and the cellar much as it was described to them. The largest difference is the presence of sunlight filtering down through the ruined building above. The sounds of armed and armored men wandering about above reaches their ears as well. Between the steep angle of the cellar and the ruins above and the delay of the mages, sunrise is definitely passed. "Things started moving in earnest about twenty minutes ago," whispers Pfiffwin from a gloomy corner.
Otto turns to lead the others up into the light, but Dell waves him back. "Not yet," says Dell quietly. Waving his hands and muttering arcane syllables, he imbues the Company with fleetness of motion, though not of action. Otto turns again to lead the Company into battle, but Dell coughs to catch his attention. "Stealth is worth the investment in time," quips Dell. "Everyone gather close. Priestly blessings first, then my work." Hugh nods and invokes the prayers of Trithereon, as Adrienne calls upon the blessings of Lydia. The Company crowds around Dell while creates a light-bending dweomer, cloaking their forms in invisibility. "Much better now. We're stronger now," he avers.
The Company carefully climbs up the rickety stairway into the ruined villa. The large pavilion and the surrounding tents are visible through the singed window frames. Flying overhead is a series of large flags, one showing a tusked porcine face, another showing a stylized mask, black on one half and white on the others, and the third marked with an inverted black triangle, likely the unholy ziggurat of Tharizdun. Unlike during the darkness, the pavilion is not ringed by undead warriors, but instead the entry and exits are blocked by them. To Otto's eye, it is plain that several groups of leaders must have already left with their undead guards or keepers.
"Burn them!" mutters Otto, as a blue jay hops about on the top of the pavilion. More men and undead, ghouls as well as the strange zombie warriors, come through the camp, heading eastward towards Longspear. The mustering of Sir Highrider's men must be taking place, the gates of Longspear opening, the dwarves sallying into and through the Holy Wedge. Still Winthrop does not transform into a gargoyle and launch death and destruction into the pavilion. A group of men, priests of the sort the Company fought in the Holy Wedge, depart the pavilion, taking more undead warriors from the pavilion and leading them eastward. "Alright, something's wrong," declares Otto. "Let's go. I'm in front, Maximilian on the left, Hugh in the middle, Adrienne on the right. Dell, stay within the arc of the priests. Diego and Oaklock close the back. Don't stop until we hit the pavilion."
Otto levers himself out of the ruined villa and sprints for the pavilion, his magical boots carrying him much further than any in the Company, except perhaps Jasper, can match. The ghouls, and their larger ghastly brethren, are taken aback by the warriors sudden, speedy appearance, and Otto passes through them without any hinderance. With a cry, Otto smashes into the undead warriors crossing the parade ground before the pavilion, hacking at their sinewy forms. The undead are strong and well-made, definitely the strange zombies that joined in the behemoth's attack on the Holy Wedge. While Otto strikes one down, he is certain that, unlike the slower, more typical animated corpse, these zombies could eventually overwhelm him.
The priests, chasing after Otto, display their holy symbols and invoke their god and goddesses. Maximilian, imbued with the power of Pelor, veritably glows as the ghouls he faces wane and turn to dust. Hugh, avenging the fallen of Longspear, wreaks a similar havoc, but Adrienne is not as steeped in priestly lore, and her goddess is not particular focused on the purification of unlife. The ghouls and ghasts facing her are much less affected by her invocation of Lydia. None of them crumble, and few of the ghouls even flee. Diego and Oaklock turn their attention to supporting Adrienne, firing their short and longbows with accuracy and power.
It is at that point that the pavilion explodes in flame, a transformed Winthrop, flapping as a granite-colored gargoyle above the pavilion, gesturing and grinding out words and long chains of syllables. Screams come from inside the tent, and some of the undead warriors begin to burn as flaming tent cloth flows over them. From within the tent come chants of unholy prayers as people stumble out of the pavilion, clothes aflame.
The priests continue their measured approach towards the pavilion, rotating slightly to protect their flank against the ghouls and ghasts unaffected by Adrienne. Otto, though, is unable to move forward, caught perhaps a hundred feet from the pavilion entrance by the mass of undead warriors, some flaming. The warriors are, fortunately, not smart enough to grapple or tackle Otto, instead trying to use their weapons against the heavily armored warrior. The small wounds that he takes from the remarkably robust undead are individually trivial, but their accumulation poses a grave threat unless the priests can break through to him.
Winthrop launches another ball of fire onto those few that successfully fled the now-burning pavilion, catching them in the middle of it. Surprisingly, only one of the three forms collapses to the ground. The remaining two, a burly man in black-etched scale mail, wielding a shield and a pick, and a shorter man in golden scale mail, wielding a shield and a mace and having a small stone floating around his head, simply weather the fire. The shorter man cries out short, guttural syllables and a burst of grayness fills the sky flowing out around the golden-clad man.
"Magical bolts only on the undead warriors," cries Dell. "They are imbued with protective magics against fire and lightning." Oaklock is surprised, perhaps unduly, that Dell is aware of the details of the creations arising from such dark arts. Regardless, he follows Dell's direction, sending flights of magical bolts into the undead warriors imperiling Otto. Dell joins him, and, between the two of them, fell another of the undead warriors.
As the last of the ghouls and ghasts drop before the combined might of two gods and a goddess, the attack on the pavilion becomes noticed by the troops surrounding them. Those lieutenants that had most recently left the pavilion begin to return. The gargoyle fluttering over the pavilion draws the attention of almost everyone. Flights of arrows arc up at Winthrop, bouncing off of his wards to fall down into the fires below. One of the lieutenants thrusts forward a staff carved with as a splintered tree, and a resounding clap of thunder and crack of lightning extends from its end. Winthrop is buffeted by the sound and the electricity and flutters closer to the ground. The attempts by the priests of the Dead God to grasp him in their god's might are also turned by his wards.
The need to remove the opposing spellcasters is high on Winthrop's mind, and he focuses on the staff-wielding mage. Extending one taloned hand toward the mage, Winthrop lances a bolt of lightning through the man's chest. The mage falls backwards, a smoldering hole where his ribcage was.
Raven leads the others back to the Hall of the Blue Sun, back-tracking several times to hide their final destination from the orc scouts that sometimes parallel them. The Hall appears much as before, invested by deserters or lost militia-men and operating on a barter economy. Frank and Raven quickly take command of the men present, repressing them into service or organizing those who have simply lost others of their command. Frank also rides the surrounding hills, hoping to, and sometimes actually succeeding, find additional men-at-arms.
Raven and Frank make plans to bring their mostly mounted force against the flank of the besiegers and then drill their men ceaselessly, knowing that their cavalry will be under-equipped and reliant more on discipline than on skill. While putting a brave face to the men, privately, Frank concedes that few of the men are worth their wages, or even their food ration, as warriors.
Two days before they are to leave the Hall and assemble at their rally point, Raven is summoned back to the Hall. Someone has come searching for him by name. Raven unlimbers his bastard sword, the frostbrand recently carried by Otto, and rides back, looking to meet this person who knows of him. Arriving at the Hall, Raven recognizes his mendicant, though it does not relieve his concerns. Cathmandius, priest of Hextor, along with his red-haired leman, his dwarven servitors, and his host of warriors, waits patiently outside of the Hall, Frank having barred his way.
Cathmandius's host seems somewhat depleted in comparison to the days outside of Farvale. The men are hale, but their equipment shows the accumulation of wear and tear and fatigue lines their faces. Even Cathmandius's leman bears a long welt alongside her face, healing well, but likely to leave a scar.
"I wish to speak with you and grant your need for an alliance, of convenience, at least, of necessity, at most," booms Cathmandius. Raven bristles, knowing that, again, Cathmandius has, just as in Longspear before, undercut the public perception of the Company's status relative to Cathmandius's. Raven curtly beckons the skull-clad priest of Hextor into the Hall, leaving Frank to hold the others without.
Raven, weapon still drawn, gestures brusquely at the Churches and the others that occupy the Hall. "Out. Now," he grunts. No one argues with him, especially as the formidable priest lurches through the doorway, stiffened from his long ride. Raven smoothly sheaths his weapon and slides a chair away from one of the larger tables. "Make yourself comfortable," he invites, as he lowers himself into the seat.
Cathmandius and Raven discuss the current state of things. Cathmandius has continued to lead his men against the humanoid army that holds the northern part of the Yeomanry. According to Cathmandius, General Greymouse has received bad advice from Garius Brosingamene. Greymouse holds his troops in a defensive position, protecting Loftwick, but ceding control of the mountain edge to the humanoids. Much land along the Crystalmists and the Hellfurnaces has been lost because of, in Cathmandius's mind, Brosingamene's timidity.
Cathmandius continued his assaults on the humanoid hordes, raining fiery arrows and Hextor's might onto the pathetic humanoids roaming the land, provoking combat with the interlopers at every turn. This committed many of Greymouse's forces in actual battle, rather than allowing them to huddle in fear in their pickets. "Brosingamene was wroth at my valor," declares Cathmandius, "and began a campaign to discredit and blacken my efforts. In the end, Melodius Starson sided with Brosingamene rather than me, and Greymouse bid me hence from the battlefield. Such a slur I could not ignore!"
Cathmandius tells how the Freeholder Crispin Redwall had heard of the siege of Longspear. Freeholder Redwall, having received no aid when his land sent myriad requests to the lords and knights of Keoland, planned to conserve his forces and send none to the east. Instead, Cathmandius declared that he would travel to Longspear to lift the siege himself, showing the meek-minded how to wage war.
The creeds of Hextor are not well-loved in the west, and Cathmandius, knowing that the Company of the Blue Sun laired in the hills near Longspear, decided he needed a sponsor to validate his efforts. Even though the people of Longspear know Cathmandius as a savior for destroying the horrible werewolves snatching folk from the city streets, the sudden arrival of his men, additions since the establishment of his parish, might not be well received. On the other hand, if Cathmandius's men arrived in the presence of some local boys made good, as he understands the Company of the Blue Sun to be, then they would be more welcome.
Raven, constantly insulted by Cathmandius's egotistical, mono-maniacal version of events, struggles to keep his composure. In his head, he weighs the advantages of Cathmandius's help versus its disadvantages. Cathmandius's men are battle-hardened and tested, but are loyal to the priest and no one else. Cathmandius himself is possessed of great mystical power, but is dedicated to a vicious god. Raven is certain that, if Cathmandius is present, he will take whatever credit is available, even if the work was done by others. From under a beetled-brow, Raven contemplates the skull-clad priest and comes to a decision.
"I am glad you have come," he begins. "Ride with me and my men. We strike hard against the besiegers two days hence, to break their hold against Longspear. No timid plan this, but a full-scale assault, the security of the city balanced on the success of the battle. The dwarves march from the south, we from the west, and the rest of the Company lies in wait within the camp, ready to decapitate the leadership of the army. It will be a glorious battle."
"We lack time to integrate your forces with mine," continues Raven. "You and your men should ride on the left flank; Frank, my lieutenant, will hold the right flank. Your side will be facing the strength of the besiegers and offer opportunity for valor and glory. The might of your god is well-suited for such a role."
Cathmandius appears somewhat surprised by Raven's ready acquiescence. Rather than continue to marshal reasons for his inclusion, Cathmandius leans back and regards Raven, perhaps seeing Raven's actual power for the first time. A more wary look comes into the priest's eyes as he leans forward again. "Brosingamene's ill-formed advice hampered us in the Yeomanry. Many a time we could have won critical battles if I and my men were allowed free reign. Instead, we were restricted in strategy and tactics. If I follow your orders, will you consent to full use of our powers and skills?"
Raven stares at the priest, struggling to grasp the nuance of the conversation. What could Cathmandius refer to? The priest's reputation for ruthlessness and his men's penchant to take no prisoners are well known. Raven's understanding of the lore of Hextor is that the god rewards those who win at all costs, eschewing all but the most rigorous of oaths and codes. Raven can only imagine that the Yeomen's stomach turned at the slaughter that Cathmandius's men left behind them on the battlefield, though Otto certainly seemed sturdy enough when it came to prosecuting the art of war. "So long as you follow my lead, and restrain your men from turning against our allies, I will support the tactics you use. Longspear must not fall."
Cathmandius relaxes and smiles at Raven. "Agreed. My allies to work with your allies, all to keep Longspear from falling. We should celebrate our pact. Invite your lieutenants in, and I will bring in mine. On our way through the Yeomanry to here, we routed a noblink warband near Jotenspur, and the master of the town was so pleased he provided me with a collection of fine wines that he had purchased from a merchant a year ago. The vintages are wide ranging and quite delicious. I'm sure you'll enjoy them."
With that, Raven and Cathmandius call in their underlings, who have been warily watching each other outside of the Hall. The Hall becomes the centerpiece of their planning efforts, as they feverishly work, well-lubricated with the rich spirits, to coordinate their forces for the upcoming attack.
As the Company huddles in the subterranean depths of the villa, night turns into day. Winthrop, Oaklock, and Dell, especially Dell, feverishly study their arcana, attempting to prepare for the coming battle. Dell, recently revived from the dead by the power of the dwarven rod of resurrection, is capable of learning and memorizing a wide array of spells, but time is simply lacking. Only a few hours have passed between the Company's defeat of the demonic creatures guarding this cellar and the first rays of the morning sun. Even in that time, though, Otto's golden radiance has slowly faded from sight. The blessing sprayed from the flying, golden-furred elephants onto Otto seems to have run its course, for better or for worse.
Both Oaklock and Winthrop finish what memorization is necessary and pack away those books they have withdrawn. While Dell continues to read and stare at the arcane pages, Otto begins to make his plan. Pfiffwin has kept watch on the cellar, to make certain that none of the undead, or worse, creatures happen upon the Company. The Company is healed from their travails in the catacombs, but have lost a third of their spellcraft with Dell's death and subsequent revival. The priests are also somewhat depleted from the necessary healing of the injured. Otto ponders the optimal attack. Finally, he draws all but Dell and Pfiffwin together.
Otto looks at the surrounding Company, takes a deep breath, and begins. "Here is the plan. We will do something similar to what was done to the White Crows. Winthrop will transform into a small bird and fly to the top of the large pavilion. There, he will rain death and destruction down onto the leadership within the tent. The rest of us will leap to the attack from the villa here. Maximilian, Hugh, and Adrienne will put the fear of their gods and goddess into the packs of ghouls, clearing a path through them to the tent. Diego and I will clear a space among the powerful undead large enough for Dell, Oaklock, and, eventually, Winthrop to operate within. Any of the leaders that survive, or any reinforcements that come, will be dealt with from there. Pfiffwin will skulk about on the perimeter, hiding and attacking the injured. Anyone have any questions?"
Winthrop looks a bit like he's bitten into a rotten prune. "I'm to transform into a bird?" he asks.
Otto nods.
"I'm to fly out to the tent by myself?" he continues.
Otto nods.
"I'm to transform into a gargoyle, or some such, and rain fire into the tent while you all are still hundreds of feet away?" he adds.
Otto nods.
"What am I supposed to do while you all are fighting your way through the crowd, but the entire attention of the army is focused on the fire-raining gargoyle?" he finishes.
"Don't die," responds Otto, closing off this line of questioning. Winthrop still looks like he's bitten into a rotten prune.
Pfiffwin comes jogging down the tunnel. "Sun's up and rising," the gnome reports, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder. Otto and the others look at Dell, who is busily reading his book. Otto fills Pfiffwin in on his role, one that Pfiffwin doesn't seem too concerned about, oddly enough. "Hide and only attack if it's wounded, got it," he avers.
Minutes pass as Dell continues to read, concentrating heavily. Otto is torn. The dweomer Dell is memorizing must be a powerful one, as he has stared at these particular pages for quite some time. Interrupting him would cause all of his effort to be lost, but waiting for him will further delay the Company's attack. The sun is rising in the eastern sky, and Sir Highrider claimed that he would attack at sunrise, so that the orcs would fight facing the glaring sun.
Otto frets and frets as the minutes go by, glaring at Dell and his book. Finally, Dell looks up, notices Otto staring at him, and says, 'What?" Otto grimaces and jerks his thumb at the open corridor behind him, indicating it is time to go. "Right, just let me pack up," mutters Dell, gathering his books about him and storing them within his magical books. Otto jitters from side to side, frustrated and aggrieved by the delay. Finally, Dell is finished and ready to go.
Winthrop then takes time to ward himself against missiles and to change his form, taking on the shape of a blue jay. Otto is beside himself with frustration. An additional delay that could have been avoided! "I'm so glad these people are not Yeomen," he thinks to himself. With a raucous cry, Winthrop flies out ahead of the Company towards the cellar.
The Company finds Pfiffwin and the cellar much as it was described to them. The largest difference is the presence of sunlight filtering down through the ruined building above. The sounds of armed and armored men wandering about above reaches their ears as well. Between the steep angle of the cellar and the ruins above and the delay of the mages, sunrise is definitely passed. "Things started moving in earnest about twenty minutes ago," whispers Pfiffwin from a gloomy corner.
Otto turns to lead the others up into the light, but Dell waves him back. "Not yet," says Dell quietly. Waving his hands and muttering arcane syllables, he imbues the Company with fleetness of motion, though not of action. Otto turns again to lead the Company into battle, but Dell coughs to catch his attention. "Stealth is worth the investment in time," quips Dell. "Everyone gather close. Priestly blessings first, then my work." Hugh nods and invokes the prayers of Trithereon, as Adrienne calls upon the blessings of Lydia. The Company crowds around Dell while creates a light-bending dweomer, cloaking their forms in invisibility. "Much better now. We're stronger now," he avers.
The Company carefully climbs up the rickety stairway into the ruined villa. The large pavilion and the surrounding tents are visible through the singed window frames. Flying overhead is a series of large flags, one showing a tusked porcine face, another showing a stylized mask, black on one half and white on the others, and the third marked with an inverted black triangle, likely the unholy ziggurat of Tharizdun. Unlike during the darkness, the pavilion is not ringed by undead warriors, but instead the entry and exits are blocked by them. To Otto's eye, it is plain that several groups of leaders must have already left with their undead guards or keepers.
"Burn them!" mutters Otto, as a blue jay hops about on the top of the pavilion. More men and undead, ghouls as well as the strange zombie warriors, come through the camp, heading eastward towards Longspear. The mustering of Sir Highrider's men must be taking place, the gates of Longspear opening, the dwarves sallying into and through the Holy Wedge. Still Winthrop does not transform into a gargoyle and launch death and destruction into the pavilion. A group of men, priests of the sort the Company fought in the Holy Wedge, depart the pavilion, taking more undead warriors from the pavilion and leading them eastward. "Alright, something's wrong," declares Otto. "Let's go. I'm in front, Maximilian on the left, Hugh in the middle, Adrienne on the right. Dell, stay within the arc of the priests. Diego and Oaklock close the back. Don't stop until we hit the pavilion."
Otto levers himself out of the ruined villa and sprints for the pavilion, his magical boots carrying him much further than any in the Company, except perhaps Jasper, can match. The ghouls, and their larger ghastly brethren, are taken aback by the warriors sudden, speedy appearance, and Otto passes through them without any hinderance. With a cry, Otto smashes into the undead warriors crossing the parade ground before the pavilion, hacking at their sinewy forms. The undead are strong and well-made, definitely the strange zombies that joined in the behemoth's attack on the Holy Wedge. While Otto strikes one down, he is certain that, unlike the slower, more typical animated corpse, these zombies could eventually overwhelm him.
The priests, chasing after Otto, display their holy symbols and invoke their god and goddesses. Maximilian, imbued with the power of Pelor, veritably glows as the ghouls he faces wane and turn to dust. Hugh, avenging the fallen of Longspear, wreaks a similar havoc, but Adrienne is not as steeped in priestly lore, and her goddess is not particular focused on the purification of unlife. The ghouls and ghasts facing her are much less affected by her invocation of Lydia. None of them crumble, and few of the ghouls even flee. Diego and Oaklock turn their attention to supporting Adrienne, firing their short and longbows with accuracy and power.
It is at that point that the pavilion explodes in flame, a transformed Winthrop, flapping as a granite-colored gargoyle above the pavilion, gesturing and grinding out words and long chains of syllables. Screams come from inside the tent, and some of the undead warriors begin to burn as flaming tent cloth flows over them. From within the tent come chants of unholy prayers as people stumble out of the pavilion, clothes aflame.
The priests continue their measured approach towards the pavilion, rotating slightly to protect their flank against the ghouls and ghasts unaffected by Adrienne. Otto, though, is unable to move forward, caught perhaps a hundred feet from the pavilion entrance by the mass of undead warriors, some flaming. The warriors are, fortunately, not smart enough to grapple or tackle Otto, instead trying to use their weapons against the heavily armored warrior. The small wounds that he takes from the remarkably robust undead are individually trivial, but their accumulation poses a grave threat unless the priests can break through to him.
Winthrop launches another ball of fire onto those few that successfully fled the now-burning pavilion, catching them in the middle of it. Surprisingly, only one of the three forms collapses to the ground. The remaining two, a burly man in black-etched scale mail, wielding a shield and a pick, and a shorter man in golden scale mail, wielding a shield and a mace and having a small stone floating around his head, simply weather the fire. The shorter man cries out short, guttural syllables and a burst of grayness fills the sky flowing out around the golden-clad man.
"Magical bolts only on the undead warriors," cries Dell. "They are imbued with protective magics against fire and lightning." Oaklock is surprised, perhaps unduly, that Dell is aware of the details of the creations arising from such dark arts. Regardless, he follows Dell's direction, sending flights of magical bolts into the undead warriors imperiling Otto. Dell joins him, and, between the two of them, fell another of the undead warriors.
As the last of the ghouls and ghasts drop before the combined might of two gods and a goddess, the attack on the pavilion becomes noticed by the troops surrounding them. Those lieutenants that had most recently left the pavilion begin to return. The gargoyle fluttering over the pavilion draws the attention of almost everyone. Flights of arrows arc up at Winthrop, bouncing off of his wards to fall down into the fires below. One of the lieutenants thrusts forward a staff carved with as a splintered tree, and a resounding clap of thunder and crack of lightning extends from its end. Winthrop is buffeted by the sound and the electricity and flutters closer to the ground. The attempts by the priests of the Dead God to grasp him in their god's might are also turned by his wards.
The need to remove the opposing spellcasters is high on Winthrop's mind, and he focuses on the staff-wielding mage. Extending one taloned hand toward the mage, Winthrop lances a bolt of lightning through the man's chest. The mage falls backwards, a smoldering hole where his ribcage was.
