Re: Chapter Four

[Osvald Hale]

Kellar barrels down the hillside like a shimmering golden boulder, Artimus and Jehuty close behind.

Cursing, Osvald pulls hard on his mounts reins, and comes catapulting down behind them, galloping through the dust cloud. Custer disappears into the woods to the side, intent on circling around their foe.

Through the shouts of combat below Osvald spies Kellar level his lance and tuck into a charge--his target, A hulking orc. Osvald slows up his mount as the others speed ahead to join the charge, hoping to stay a distance back and use the higher terrain to his advantage.

The ranger puts the reins between his teeth and bites down hard, locking his feet steady in the stirrups. Taking up his bow, he nocks an arrow and draws back the bowstring.

Kellar and Artimus crash into the big orc with a thunderous clash of metal, and pinwheel away. Taking advantage of the opening, Osvald fires!

As the arrow flies, he snatches up another and lets it follow the first, both cutting the cool mountain air. Osvald looks to the trees beyond to see if any more Orcs approach...A breath later, the rangers eyes flick back to the mounted Orc to see both arrows impacting in short succession just a palms distance apart. Grinning, Osvald spits out the reins, and kicks up his mount to keep moving along the slight ridge...

=====

Making ranged attacks, and Perception /w advantage in favoured terrain to Spy any more orcs lurking in the trees. Also rolling wisdom from Pref. enemy (orcs) if this attack group seems typical for their size/composition/armament.

Attacks: 7+11=18 HIT / 7+11=18 HIT

Perception: 15

Pref. Enemy: 7

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Osvald Hale' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 7, 7

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#2 'D20' : 5, 10

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#3 'D20' : 2, 5

[Dwan Bolduum]

Dwan takes a moment for the battle to play out in front of him.

You don't have any magical healing, you can't be running into the fray anymore. he thinks to himself.

Dwan nods appreciatively as Artimus and Kellar converge on the chieftain. The additional fire from Kellar and Custer seem to make quick work of the brute.  

From behind, another large orc approaches with plate armor and he seems to be bringing the rest of the retinue in tow.

Dwan moves over towards Osvald to get a better flanking position, unlooping his scepter along the way.  As the group of orcs approach Dwan points his scepter towards the killing grounds.  Past the chieftain a flicker of flame appears just above the ground. The flame wavers and appears to dissipate in the air before the whoosh of an inferno appears. A ball of flame, about as tall as Dwan, sits at ground level, the grass on the ground catching flame.  

Dwan moves his scepter in a sweeping motion and points it in a space just in front of the armor clad orc. The flame rolls quickly along the ground, crossing behind Artimus, and stopping at the space just as Dygaruk arrives.

The flames smash into the Orc and the movement of the ball stops placing it between Dygaruk and the chieftain.

=====================================
Rolling for hit and damage in lair.

Dwan uses Flaming Sphere, (lvl 2 spell) and moves it as a bonus action into Dygaruk.  Dwan dragged the ball along the ground to ignite the grass to deter the other orcs to approach and join the melee from that side of the chieftain. Flaming grass should not harm anyone who enters, just more as a scare tactic.

Any creatures that end their turn within 5 feet of this square will take damage from the flame.

[Ao]

Kellar’s spear draws a deep crimson ribbon from the chest of the warchief, who screams loudly in the field of battle as Artimus’ taunting maneuver goads him into a fury.

The grizzled orc grips tightly onto the haft of his axe, digging himself into the earth so fiercely that his feet dig deep craters in the mossy earth. Blood coats the front of his chain jerkin, mud splattered upon his legs.

[Orc chieftain rolls 18 + 1 = 19 vs. Dex save to hold axe]

Birds soar up from the canopy as the chieftain opens his scarred mouth, screaming out a brutal war cry across the clearing…

[Orc Chieftain uses War Cry. All allies gain advantage on all attacks this turn. Orc Chieftain gains +1 attack this round]

Flame licks around the champion, his plate white-hot as dwan’s fire burns. Hefting his axe up, he points it at Kellar, digging his feet in and charging furiously.

[Orc chieftain & Orc champion use aggressive, moving up to 30 feet as a free action towards their foes. Then, they use an additional move action to close on Artimus and Kellar]

As Artimus charges through the battle fray, he watches as outriders skewer orcs and fall alike. But even as he cuts back around, the chieftain leaps from atop the corpse of a fallen greenskin, swinging his enormous battle-axe through the air…

[Orc chieftain has multiattack, 2 attacks + 1 for war cry. Would have given him -1 attack had he dropped the axe, but his Dex save was a success…]

The axe comes down, headed for the neck of Artimus’ mount…

The mariner moves deftly, reins in one hand, sword in the other…

[Chieftain missed x2 and hit x1 vs. mount]
[Chieftain is targeting Artimus’ mount for 11 damage. Artimus can elect to take the damage himself, or allow the mount to take it. The mount only has 10 HP, so it will die. Please see mounted combat rules for repercussions]

[…]

Kellar swings round, watching as the champion descends upon him.

The hulking orc wears heavy plate, its face masked by a hideous bronze helm, adorned with horns and fetishes. His fetid, foul mouth is opened wide, wet tongue licking at the air as massive muscles heft his battle-axe…

[Orc champion, x2 attacks (at advantage for the war chief’s cry, and at disadvantage for Kellar being mounted, so neither advantage or disadvantage]

[1 Hit vs. Kellar, 1miss]
[8 damage to Kellar]

The dragoon feels the weight of the axe crash into his armor, crunching his left side even as his mount comes round swiftly. The blow nearly knocks him from atop, but he holds tightly to the reins, leaning in for a counter….

[…]

Osvald and Dwan ride the fringe, the ranger scanning the treeline for more orcs. His attention is distracted, however, as two of the marauders stop charging toward him on foot, and drop to their knees, pulling out bows.

Their companions further back fire their short bows, followed by another volley by the forward advance…

[2 shots vs. Dwan]
[6 damage to Dwan!]

[2 shots vs. Osvald]
[10 damage to Osvald!]

The arrows scream through the air, ripping through armor and flesh as they collide with Dwan and Osvald.

The two horse-bound heroes charge on, circling around and watching as the archers prepare another volley.

======================

OK guys

Artimus is about 40-50 feet away from you all, closer to the other combat with Jehuty. He’s engaged with the Orc Chieftain, who is either going to kill his horse, dismounting him, or will deal 11 damage to atriums.

Kellar is closer, maybe 20 feet away, engaged with the champion.

The archers aren’t far from Dwan and Osvald, probably 30 feet max. They’re kneeling, firing off rounds from the fringe of the combat.

Looking beyond at the combat between the outriders and the rest of the force, the attack is balanced right now, with no clear advantage.

EXP: +20

[Artimus DeLonde]

***
====
Reaction to missed attack from chieftain/ attack on mount

Artimus pulled sharply at the reins of his horse as the massive chieftain swung wide narrowly missing them. a second explosive attack came, narrowly missing them.

This time Artimus capitalized on the hulking Orcs fury laden attack with a swift lunge.

*Expend one Swordsman die: Riposte

His Edge bit cruelly into the talisman covered war-band leader invoking the grunting thrall of Gruumsh, follower of Sothis deeper into an  explosive rage.

The Chieftain swung widely, the blade of his rough hewn axe careening towards Artimus.

Artimus saw his chance to escape the blow, letting it fall on his hoofed companions neck. he accepted the rude Steele, wincing in pain as it shifted bone and rending his exquisite shirt exposing the chain beneath.

"Vous dansez avec le diable , vous Orc salaud. Je vais vous apprendre la mort ."
(you dance with the devil, you Orc bastard. I will teach you death.)

========

Three more strikes shot out, left flank, right flank, neck, brutal an decisive and cut deeply. Artimus was like a composer, writing not an opus, but a small piece, telling the tale of the death of a wild fighter, Foolishly facing down the blade of an grinning white devil. The dirge was brought to a crescendo as the Chieftain hit the hard earth with a unmistakable thud of limp flesh.

Somewhere a Browntailed Hawk pulled the meat from a blackbirds bones.


Reaction Attack 1 Attack 2
4d20
Riposte 1d20+6(18) to hit 2d8+3+2+1 (16)
Attack 1d20+6(21) to hit 1d8+3+2+1(12)
Attack 1d20+6(24)  to hit 1d8+3+2+1 (11)

#1 'D20' : 12, 14, 17, 16,

--------------------------------

#2 'D8' : 2, 6, 7, 7, 5, 6

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Artimus DeLonde' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 12, 1, 14, 16, 17, 17, 16, 9

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#2 'D8' : 2, 6, 7, 7, 5, 6

[Custer Thickett]

A familiar song of  fire whispers up through the limbs of the tree, barely audible above the sounds of thudding hooves, metal scraping against metal, screams of pain and passion.  Custer loops his left arm around the trunk of the tree, precariously balanced on a thin branch near the top, and slightly swaying in the cold mountain breeze.  Between the shriveled leaves and branches, he can see the dance of the battle below.  Most moving too fast or too far away to make a good target for his hand crossbows.  The shiny one was close though, the metal of his armor reflecting both the light of the day and the flicker of flames.  

The beast charges into Kellar's path, and uses its great axe to carve into the mounted man's armor.  The sound of the blow reverberates up through the tree.  As the horned helm turns with the attack, Cuss knows he has one narrow chance.  Twing... Twing...

[Rolling Assassinate with both bows with advantage from being hidden.] +6
20 Hit!
21 Hit!

Zzzzin twack! twack! The two bolts whistle through the air and find their mark inside the bronze horned helm, releasing spurting fountains of blood down the front of the Orc's shiny plate mail. The fluid steaming when it met the residual heat from Dwan's fire.

Cuss shifted his weight and pivoted around the trunk, ducking lower into the tree to add cover to his exposure. He quickly reloaded two more bolts.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 15, 2

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#2 'D20' : 14, 2

[Kellar]

Ui batobot shio wux Itrewica?!? (Translation: Is that all you got?!?) Kellar watched two bolts fly from the treeline and find their mark. THUNK! THUNK!

The Orc Champion staggered forward as Kellar lowered his lance and attacked! Disadvantage: 6+7= 13; Failure! His lance went wide as the Orc Champion closed the distance!

"Outriders! Attack the Champion!" he shouted.

Actions:
Assumed disadvantage because of distance between Kellar and the Orc Champion.
Prepared to take a hit if the Outriders don't mop up the Orc Champion.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 11

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#2 'D20' : 6

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#3 'D6' : 3

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#4 'D10' : 9

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald chokes out a howl as the two orc arrows hit, one sinking into his calf, the other biting into the shoulder of his bow arm. Wild eyed, the ranger glares down at the orcs, his mind flashing back to all the torments he'd suffered at the hands of their kind. Screaming at them in their own tongue:

"Not a bad shot, Orc dogs! Osvald Hale has a reply for you!"

Gritting his teeth, Osvald takes hold of the arrow embedded in his shoulder and wrenches it free. Spinning the barbed point around deftly, he nocks the orcish arrow and sends it back at the orc who fired it, followed in a heartbeat by one of his own--a signature underlining the message.

As the bolts soar, he marks these savages for death...

The orcish arrow catches it's archer dead in the eye, kicking the orcs head back. The second arrow sinks cleanly into the exposed flesh of it's neck, spurting a rivulet of ichor-black blood as the orc falls to the ground, dead in moments.

Spurring his mount on, Osvald glares at the remaining orcs, hoping to break their will, but preparing for a second volley.

=====

Engaging the Orcs firing arrows.
Bonus action to cast Hunters Mark on the orc.
Two arrows fired...

12+11=23 Hit! / 12+11=23 Hit!

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Osvald Hale' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 12, 12

[Dwan Bolduum]

Dwan grimaces as one arrow scratches his face, just a hairs breadth from puncturing a hole, and the other sinks into his hip, armor stopping most of the momentum but the tip breaks skin.

Seeing the fury of Osvald's counter attack, Dwan kicks his horse into action. Once Dwan brings the horse up to a canter he releases the reins, places the scepter back in it's loop, and points his free hand towards the remaining archer releasing a stream of poison at the creature.

[rolling Const save for Surn 17+3 20]

Surn ducks the attack and avoids breathing in the noxious fumes before they dissipate into the air. Using this as a distraction Dwan focuses his thoughts on engulfing the Orc in flame and the sphere shoots from it's location into Surn, flames spattering around the body as it makes contact.

============================================

Dwan moves closer to the orc and uses Poison spray on Surn. Surn saves the spell and takes no damage from this.

Dwan uses his bonus action to move the flame into the Orc. [damage in lair]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Dwan Bolduum' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 17

[Ao]

The champion crashes into the ground, even as Artimus circles back toward the fellowship, the chieftain lying facedown in the mud and mess of blood and flesh.

Shouts and screams echo out across the impromptu battlefield, the auburn landscape of trees and shrubs framing a gory scene of murder and battle. Your horses stamp through the ground, where not far off Jehuty raises his mace in the air and shouts a rallying cry.

Birds soar over the clearing, as you push the assailants to the edges of the clearing, cutting down those who flee…

[…]

When all is said and done, the attrition of the battle begins to sink in to your adrenaline soaked minds. Horses, marauders, and outriders lay dead in a grisly display of war.

Jehuty stands in the midst of it, frowning at his losses. His eyes are sullen as he realizes the deaths of more than half his cadre. The man is an experienced minister of justice, but you can tell he is not used to this degree of loss.

“Arsene!” he shouts out suddenly, as the outriders calm themselves, sitting after the exhausting battle.

“Arsene, gather up our dead! Tether the horses, and bury them. Bury them all.”

He looks over to where the designated outrider is, and finds him lying on the ground.

“Arsene, what -“ he stops speaking, seeing that the man is gut shot with an arrow.

“Helm help us.” says Jehuty. “The rest of you, gather up the dead.”

The cleric barely sees you as he grabs his fallen man, hoisting him over his shoulder and walking him a hundred feet off the path. He lays the bleeding outrider down, the soldier’s mouth beginning to froth with the first kiss of death.

Jehuty removes a large blanket from his pack. He stands, shaking it, and you watch as it magically conforms and distorts itself into the shape of an enormous tent above them.

He pulls several satchels from his bags, and goes to work on the injured outrider…

==========================

Ok guys - I’ve expedited the end of the battle, given that you dealt so swiftly with the interlopers.

By my simulation, 7 outriders were killed, and 1 grievously injured. The remainder of the marauders were cut down - 3 escaped. You can make a STR check to attempt to catch and kill one, or a DEX check to attempt to catch and capture one. If desired. Failed checks will have a consequence.

Jehuty is visibly aggrieved. As you approach him now, he will largely ignore you as he works frantically to heal the outrider.

What are you doing, fellows?

(See spoils in Th eWar Chest)

EXP: +340 to each of you

[Kellar]

Kellar dropped from his horse and walked to the outside range of the bodies and looked at the orcs retreating. "Leave them. We decimated their Chieftain and their Champion, they're not going to stand and fight," he said. He looked down at his wound as he tapped the side of his helmet. The visor opened up and the jaws retracted to show Kellar's light blue face. The golden scales shimmered slightly in the sunlight. Orbaugh, you can climb down now. His trusty companion dropped down from the horse and sniffed the ground. Master! You are hurt. Are you okay?

Kellar wiped his hand across the wound on his side, the dark blue blood dripped from his gauntlet. He brought his other hand around the wound and he felt his blood retract into the wound. Golden scales bloomed over the injury and grew from his skin. (Used Second Wind= 1d10+5= 7) He took his left hand and brushed at his wound and most of the golden scales flaked away, leaving most of his wound repaired. Three single scales remained on his skin. He moved the armor away from the wound and reset it over them to keep them flat.

Kellar removed a ration and broke it for he and Orbaugh to share. Keep your energy up. We may not be out of this yet. Orbaugh snapped up the food and danced happily. He pranced away after eating and checked each of the injured and deceased. Kellar felt the emotions of concern from Orbaugh as the pseudodragon moved hither and yon.

Actions:
Kellar uses Second Wind before he and the others begin their short rest and help the wounded.
Kellar will suggest leaving the remaining orcs to flee, he will not argue going after them. Will roll in next post if needed.
Kellar will follow orders from Jehuty to assist anyway that he can.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D10' : 2

[Artimus DeLonde]

Artimus' Heart pumped wildly, ardrenline still thick in his viens, the warcry of the chief still echoing in his ears. The battle had ended so quickly, he had barely begun. The Cormyrian surged, his whole body wound and ready.  Like man alone in bed, tantilized by a lover who'd left too soon.

Looking around the clearing between the jagged foothills leading into the small teeth.  His focus on the hulking orc has blinded him to the carnage around him, the death that was scattered around the field.

It was clear if he and his cadre were not there, the ouriders would have been wiped out, there was blessing in the pal of casualties.
"You're right Mon Dragoon,  it would be foolish to give chaze." Artimus answered Kellar as he unmounted the pale grey steed.

"Today, I am zhe fool that askz, and will be anzwered."

Artimus looked to Osvald, A sweeping wound trickling blood the stalwart mountaineer's chest. He motioned to the tree line with a sideways nod.

"I need a bow and hunter to fire it. We run them down, non?"

Artimus starts in a jog that breaks out into a run into the treeline.

As he strode into the forested hill the yellow leaves loosed from the branches swirling around him as he moved. Like a stream of blood filled with jaundiced lyphosites, the fate of a man drinking himself to death.

His eyes darted around looking for Custer and the fleeing Goblins.

[Perception as Artimus looks for custer in the bush as he persues the Goblins, if Artimus spots custer, he motions for him to assist] 13

======================================

Artimus Uses Dex to hunt the goblin 20

If we can capture more than one we can play them against eachother to get the information that we want

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Artimus DeLonde' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 10, 17

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald kicks his mount in action, it gallops the final stretch of yards down into the valley, the horses breath pumping clouds of vapour into the cool air.

The scene is dismal, half a dozen of their company lie dead on the cold earth. Osvald scowls, his jaw set in an expression of frustration and coiled rage.

"I need a bow and hunter to fire it. We run them down, non?"

"Aye, Let's go. Kellar, Keep these men safe!" The ranger reaches down and pulls free the arrow shaft still embedded in his lower leg, teeth gritting hard against the pain. Clutching his thigh, he speaks the prayers and feels the flesh knit back together beneath his greave.

(cast Cure Wounds on self)

As the mystic words do their work, he swings his leg over the saddle and hands off the reins to one of the remaining outriders. Starting off with an awkward limp, he speeds into a jog, then a run as his flesh mends. Grabbing the Kraken claw medallion at his chest, Osvald send a message to Dwan:

"Dwan--We could use the wolf."

As Osvald nears Artimus he breaks into a full bore sprint to match the Mariners pace, and the two break into the treeline after fleeing orcs.
In their haste, the savages left an obvious trail--broken branches, splatters of orc-blood, crushed undergrowth, and overturned stones. Falling into the rhythm of the hunt, Osvald takes up the trail.

=====

Cast cure wounds on self. 6hp gain.

Hunters Mark is still active on the fleeing orc, it grants advantage to any checks to track the target. 18+4=22 DEX

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Osvald Hale' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D8' : 4

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#2 'D20' : 9, 18

[Kellar]

Kellar took a step forward to follow Osvald and Artimus. He stopped as Osvald requested he stay and watch over the camp. "Aye! Good hunting," he said. Orbaugh circled back by his Master and began looking around the camp for nearest threat to their camp. That's a good Orbaugh. Protect our allies, and they'll protect you. Orbaugh lowered his shoulders and steeled his resolve and actively looked around.

Kellar looked down at his hands and then looked at Artimus and Osvald disappear into the woods. They're after the Orcs, perhaps now is the time. Kellar's mind focused on his right hand. Frost closed in around his armor and around his hand. Slowly, the humidity in the air flowed toward two shafts of ice extending out from either side of his hand and made a javelin. "I'm ready for another attack," he said.
Orbaugh, what do you see? (Perception Roll= 5+4= 9; Not... so much.

Actions:
Orbaugh and Kellar are on guard for the camp.
Prepared Ray of Frost cantrip.
Orbaugh using Active Perception

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 2, 5

[Dwan Bolduum]

"Dwan--We could use the wolf."

Dwan looks up from his wounds and kicks his horse into action along side Osvald.  After about 300 yards Dwan looks around to see that none of the other soldiers have followed.

Dwan ties up his horse, giving it an apple that he found on the ground, and transforms into wolf form and takes off after Osvald, nose in the air attempting to find the fleeing orcs.

Catching the foul smell of the creatures Dwan catches up with Osvald and points him in the proper direction. As they close in Dwan darts off to flank the fleeing band, using his wolfish howls to scare the group into a corner.

Once trapped Dwan bites down on the hamstring of one of the Orcs dropping him to the group.

=================
Short post today

Rolling DEX for capture +2. Forgot to look at Ao's post to see what i need to find

17+2 19 Dex roll

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Dwan Bolduum' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 17

[Custer Thickett]

Cuss watched the battle unfold from his perch in the top of his tree.  He nearly cried out in joy as he watched Artimus and Kellar finish off their kills.  The blurring speed of the former dark blade dizzying even from this distance.  Cuss glanced to the rapier tied to his hip, hanging beneath the harness for one of his bows.  He'd not pulled it from the scabbard in several weeks.  Cuss returns his attention to the battlefield, dropping another archer as the Outriders push the melee toward him.  

In the last moments, while his friends make quick plans below, Cuss takes a tally of the fallen.  The battle was easily a slaughter, but the warhost's losses surely meant it would not be continuing up the pass.  Might be they wouldn't need to, if the Ogres already knew they were here.  The sound of the battle surely carried up the pass, and if the fleeing Orcs return, Sothis and Kesian would soon know their small numbers.  No doubt they would attack again, and in much greater number.  

Smiling to see that his friends agreed in that they were dashing for the treeline, Cuss hopped down the tree, descending the branches like a broken ladder.  The last bit he had to jump, and the distance was not small by Halfling measurements.  He ducked into a roll, his unloaded bows tight to his chest.  When his feet came back to the ground, Cuss burst forward through the brush, chasing after a familiar wolf and trying to fold and stow his bows as he went.

[Rolling Dex. +6]
16

---------
Cuss tries to follow Wolf Dwan and the others.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 10

[Ao]

[dex pursuants, art/Osvald/Dwan ]

Trees whip past Artimus and Osvald as they tear through the wood, following the blood trail through the virgin mountain paths. Blooms of deep cadmium and dense, lively brush would slow even the most athletic of men, but Osvald had the knowledge of the woods in his heart.

Every plant tendril, vicious root, and jagged rock that threatened their footfall was outmaneuvered by the practised eye of the ranger.

Artimus followed in his stead, leaping to keep up with the bearded tracker.

Up ahead, you can see the faint outline of a solitary marauder, crashing through the underbrush. Where the sun peeks through the canopy, rays of brilliant light catch the tail of his dark cloak.

You chase behind him, breathing hard. Sweat beads upon your brow, pooling between armor and running down your calves. He is swift - perhaps not as practised as Osvald, but swift nonetheless.

From out of the wood, Custer falls into step beside you, holding two crossbows and running as fast as his shorter legs can carry him.

Up ahead, you see a shallow stream. Jagged rocks, if the variety that would break ones' neck and skewer ones stomach, jut precariously out of the slow moving water.

The marauder looks back, and you can see that he is, in fact, human.

He gives you a wry grin, leaping out over the riverbed. His feet touch upon the bank on the other side, and you can see that the chase just became that much more difficult for you.

Suddenly, a howl fills the air. The marauder sidesteps, staggering after his jump, and is wholly unprepared for the canine form that crashes into his chest from out of the underbrush.

He topples down, hitting the ground hard, and his head against a stone. Perched atop him, the enormous, silvery form of a wolf.

Dwan looks back at you, his lupine features striking in the midday sun.

[...]

Custer, Dwan and Artimus emerge from the treeline, into the smoky roadside pasture where the last remaining outriders are burning a funeral pyre of their men.

Osvald follows them, towing a hog-tied marauder who spits and glares angrily beyond a leather gag.

He is dropped in a heap near Jehutys tent, where the Cleric sits aside the fallen Arsene. The captain of the guards head is buried in his hands, his thick, short blond curls matted with blood and mud.

He looks up at you, and it is evident that his cheeks are stained with tears.

"Fellows, you saved us." He says, moving to his knees. He looks down at arsene, the dark-skinned soldiers' face sunken and unbreathing. It is clear that Helm could not save him this day.

Jehuty sobs, clinging to the body like a child. He plants a kiss on the fallen soldiers forehead, lingering for a moment. He removes a chain from around his neck, placing it in the hands of the deceased and clasping them before standing.

The remaining outriders look to Jehuty, continuing their labours as he strides towards you, wiping the grief from his face. Two of them walk to the body of Arsene, covering him in a bedroll and lifting him toward the funeral pyre.

"We have work to do." Says Jehuty gruffly.

"I've no doubt that Sothis' army of ogres are camped in Lions Pass, but I would know their number before I ride for Imnascar. I will send my men back, to warn of the impending march. Fellows - what say you. Do we ride for the pass?

===================

Ok guys

Jehuty wants to ride for the pass to check out the scope of Sothis' advance

Also, you have the captive marauder, wearing the sigil of Sothis upon his clothes.

And, as the outriders remove his cloak, you see distinctly a pendant of cyric hanging about his neck...

Exp:+20

[Kellar]

Kellar turned and watched as his companions emerged from the tree line. He and Orbaugh had helped with gathering the bodies and setting the pyre ablaze.

Earlier...
Kellar set the javelin of ice on its end and he helped move the dead to the funeral pyre they setup a bit away from the tent. "Stack the bodies like so, and alternate where their feet lay. We want them their bodies to point West, to find their home in the hereafter," he said. He and Orbaugh pulled and dragged tinder from the nearby trees and layered it with the dead. "If any of you would like to say a few words, now is the time. They might still hear you," he said. He waited for each of the Outriders to say or mutter a few words of respect for their fallen companions. One of them came to Kellar and offered a torch. "No thank you, that is not necessary," he said as his eyes glowed red for a moment. His golden scales shimmered from his face down to his hands and his balms went ablaze. He turned to the pyre and touched the tinder until it ignited.

Now...
Kellar approached the tent and took the captive aside. He removed two lengths of chain and entwined the man with the chain and dragged him to a tree. He flipped the chain over the branch and pulled on it until their captive hung upside down. "You're a tough one, right? I'll come back to you in a little bit. Hang around," he said as he spun the captive and walked away. Orbaugh, stay by the opening of the tent and keep an eye on this one okay. He means to hurt us and a lot of other people. Okay. I watch the bad man. The pseudodragon's eyes narrowed and he sat rigid, at guard.

Inside the tent, Kellar offered his suggestions. "Perhaps we can discover information from the captured soldier before I kill him," he said. "I think we can then move forward into the pass and determine what size that army is. It has to have need of supplies and other resources to continue marching. Having Ogres about requires a great deal of food before they cannabalize one another. They may not suspect a small incursion to come to them. As far as they know they routed the small force you were sending to meet them in the field," he said.

Actions:

Kellar will offer suggestions but will defer to Osvald ultimately for a clear plan of action.
Kellar, if there is no objection, will interrogate the prisoner for information prior to their departure and the summary execution of the prisoner.
If there is an objection to Kellar executing the prisoner, he will use "An eye for eye" defense of his actions.
Also added: Roll to Intimidate, figured it'd be with Advantage since we have him suspended upside down. And... well, captive. Yeah.
Intimidate Roll= 12+3(prof)= 15; Success?

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 12, 1

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald spits, scowling at their captive as he watches Kellar carry off the Hostage and chain him inverted to a tree at the edge of the clearing.

...

In the tent, Osvald listens to Kellar, nodding.

"Give me a few minutes. I'd like to have a word with our guest. Afterward--feel free to break every bone in his body, Kell." He says, patting his hulking blue friend on the shoulder.

"..Come if I call you."

With that, Osvald slips out into the night, bowing slightly as Orbaugh turns to acknowledge him, before slipping off into the night.

The cold air and shadows surrounded him like a tomb as he crept further from the tent into the black. His breath crisp in the air. He picks his way into the trees, moving slowly, taking care to remain silent.

In short time, the ranger had circled around the entirety of the clearing and crept now in the trees beyond the hung captive. Confidently, silently, he passed through the woods of his mountains. His emotions were utterly cold, like a premonition of winter.

Nearing the tree where the captive is held, the ranger crouches low, creeping through the undergrowth. Mere feet away, Osvald speaks orcish in a hoarse whisper, the words are harsh like a crude blade chipping stone...

"You've been captured."

The mans chains rattle as he struggles to look for the source of the voice emanating from the trees, but the ranger keeps behind him.

Osvald draws his long sword slowly, letting the captive savor the sound of the blade scraping free of the sheath, letting dread creep in...

Allowing a branch to snap under his feet, Osvald steps forward from the woods. The chains creak in protest as the man struggles hard to turn to face his assailant, but Osvald is upon him before he catches a glimpse--grabbing him roughly by the back of the nape and forcing his front to remain toward the camp.

More orcish words gurgle forth from Osvald, a whisper like teeth grinding bones;

"I should kill you now..." He lets the words hang, and raises his sword into the mans field of view, the dark orcish steel glinting in the half-light...

(Okay, trying to scare this captive; hoping he thinks Osvald is an Orc, and he'll beg to live and in doing so blurt out a name or something; something he might hold out on even if we torture him if he thinks he's talking to one of his own.)

After the man begs, or if he remains silent:

Osvald shoves the man: he swings freely on the chain, turning back and forth like a pinion in the wind. Osvald circles forward now, and continues around the man. The motion of the captives swinging plays havoc with his perspective as he struggles to focus on Osvald... and the blade still in his hand.

The ranger continues on in Orcish:

"You move well in these mountains, like a man born to them... Unfortunately for you--so am I." He continues his circling: Slow, and predatory.

"My family name is one the greenskins don't dare speak, lest we come down like shadows and lightning from the mountains, and carve their skins for our hunting tents."

Osvald presses the tip of the blade into the captives chest, pushes gently. The blade bites shallowly, and the captives swinging is amplified. Osvald pulls his sword back, flicks the blood from it's tip.

"The pendant you wear... You pay homage to your foul god with your reaving? You think yourself strong that you prey on the weak? Brave, that you prey on the innocent? You and you ilk are little more then spiders and snakes. Lurking in cowardice, bidding your time to strike. Fear, spider, for the raven has come to snatch you from your webs. ...Woe upon you, snake. The hawks of valour have descended, and found you to be easy prey." In a flash Osvald rips his dagger from it's sheath, plunging it into the captives gut! Clamping an iron grip over his mouth, the ranger stifles his scream.

"Quiet now. You risk alerting the others--I doubt they'll be as kind as me. You've split the blood of their kin today. Speaking of--This is for them." He twists the knife, The captive yelps. Blood flows down his front, into his mouth and nostrils--the captive struggles, coughing.

Osvald pulls his dagger free, taking a knee and levelling face to face with the suspended man. Extending a hand, the ranger touches the captives shoulder. And with a muttered prayer, the wound in his stomach knits back together, stemming the flow of blood. The captive gasps for air, struggling desperately in his bonds.

Osvald grins. "You'll answer my questions, or I'll open you up again and leave you for the wolf. Your dark god has conjured no things as black as my rage, worm. I am Osvald Hale, and you will tell me what I want to know."

=====

Osvald pulling out all the stops to get this guy to talk.

Stabbed him, cast cure wounds on him to keep him going.

Hoping the bad cop/no other cop tactic works...

Questions will be: Location of any enemy forces + their composition. Any plans, significant locations, or mustering he's aware of. Location of Kiesan, the Dragon, or the Dragon rider Slothis (sp?) + Any thing else significant the captive may know. Willing to press him until he spills the beans.

If the captive holds out against the torment, Osvald will call Kellar and the outriders, and let them "intimidate" him further.

[Dwan Bolduum]

As the group approaches camp with the prisoner Dwan splits off from the party and loops  around to where he has tied up his horse.  Shifting back to Dwarf form, the smell of fire wood leaves his nostrils.

Hopefully we still have more than a few left.

Dwan rides into camp and sees Kellar organizing the outriders as they add more bodies to the pyre. Tears streak down some of the soldier's faces, while anger and fear decorate others. Dwan dismounts and walks past the prisoner into Jehuty's tent. The sight of the man weeping saddens Dwan.

I will send my men back, to warn of the impending march.

Dwan places a hand on the Cleric's shoulder.

It takes a compassionate leader to weep for the fallen, but look at the men out there.   They look up to you, you are their leader, and they are feeling the same that you do.  They need you to be strong, Jehuty.  I've seen what losses can do to a regiment, especially if they are left idle.  These men need something to keep their mind off of their grief, a way to let off some steam.  

My brother would have run his troops through some drills to keep them from being idle; prevent them from getting too drunk or deserting.

But my men have bled enough already, I don't intend on marching them blindly into a group of Ogres.

I know, I know, and I'm not asking that you march them. You should send these men home in the morning, after they have had a chance to rebuild some of their camaraderie.  They will see it as a reprieve instead of a defeat, and you will have a stronger collection of men because of it.

Fellows - what say you. Do we ride for the pass?

I will join you, we will make them pay for the blood they've shed.

=====================
Dwan tries to get Jehuty to raise the morale of the soldiers.
Dwan is not participating in any interrogation and will wait for more information before the scouting mission.

[Custer Thickett]

Stowing his bows as he emerged from the treeline, Cuss nodded in the direction of the pyre and Cleric.  The mood appeared dower over there, so Cuss surveyed the rest battlefield.  There were many black cloaked corpses laying about.  The outriders had left them where they fell, only moving those they had bothered searching for valuables.  Cuss moved for the shiny Champion Kellar fell, kicking at the mangled body in an effort to turn it over, but finding it far too heavy for him to budge.  So he knelt and searched it as it lay, twisted and torn.  He muttered no words for the beast, but wondered if it knew clan Maul.  

Cuss busied himself methodically checking the bodies of the champion, chieftain, and other cloaked fallen until summoned to the tent.  When called, he drug a black cloak of Sothis with him, holding it beside him as he listened to Dwan convince Jehuty to drill his men.  The idea seemed outrageous to him, but he knew well enough not to open his mouth as he'd no knowledge of proper military practice and rather keep such ignorance to himself.  

I will join you, we will make them pay for the blood they've shed.

Cuss stepped to the middle of the conversation, and flapped the black cloak to get attention.  He displayed the symbol as he spoke.  "Might be best we move now, in the night, 'fore they've time to move against us.  I've heard it said at least two of those that attacked us got away.  Mayhaps this very moment they tell the Ogre's what we've got and where they left us.  Iffen we make camp here and iffen they move against it in the night, then I'd be counting on being ready for it, yeah?"

Cuss sighs as some of the eyes around him water and glaze over, he lowers the cloak and clears his throat, then explains in detail.  "Its like this, yeah?  That one out there's gonna tell us where their lines are.  We ought to find good high ground between here and there where we can watch them and wait for them to move against us.  Might be they do it in the night, might be they wait for first light.  We set a camp here, and light it for a distraction of sorts.  Mayhaps even some men with orders to flee in order as the enemy approaches to draw them further down the pass.  Then, we move in behind em back up into their own camp, quiet like with these cloaks for disguise.  We make for their commander or his tent.  Then we take em out, or steal his stuff and sneak back out."

Cuss looks at Dwan and tilts his head in a stare as the others start to discuss his idea.  He ask the Dwarf, "Can ya turn into an Orc?"

----
Outside...

Cuss paces in front of the Orc's upside down vision.  He turns a dagger over in his hand, but when he takes notice of the Orc's condition and eyes, he stops and stows the blade.  "Me thinks ya gonna tell me what I need to know without further encouragement, yeah?"  Cuss smiles and crosses his arms.

"Is Orc Chieftain Grol and his Clan Maul among your numbers here?"

"Has Grol taken a wife?"

"Do you know of the one they call Uru?  Where is he?"

"Are the Clerics of Cyric in the pass?  How many?"

"Does Sothis follow Cyric, or another?"

"What of the Drow?  Have you seen or heard whispers of their cooperation?"

"Why did Sothis hit Esmeltaran?  Did he succeed in his plan there?"

"Have all of the Shadow Thieves aligned themselves with this?  Are you a Shadow Thief?"

"Where is Alfon?"

"Do you know who Lincoln Thickett is?  How so?"

If the Orc is uncooperative, Cuss will dip a bolt into the last of the vial he used earlier, then stick the Orc with it, explaining that the Poison will kill him in minutes if he isn't given the antidote.  Cuss will describe the nature of the death in very grotesque fashion, convincing the Orc that it would defile his body even in the next or after life he is looking forward to.

[Rolling Deception or Disguise +5]
25
--------------------

Action for deception is only if the Orc needs more convincing after Osvald's creepy interrogation.  So bad ass, Ozzy.

If the others agree to set a trap and/or infiltrate the enemy camp, Cuss would like to roll or take time with his disguise skill to give everybody an advantage roll on their stealth check.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 20

[Ao]

The captive marauder hangs upside down from the tree as the twilight sun glares in his eyes. Dark locks of brown hair swoops across the ground, his eyes wide with terror. Blood stains the bottom of his inverted chin, trickling into his mouth. His tongue darts left and right, as he seeks the energy to scream in a moment of animalistic fear.

[Cuss & Ozzy, interrogators:]

“Please! Gods, no!” he screams as another wave of pain subsides, Osvald speaking the old words…

The man is rough-skinned, his face shaved unevenly. His voice trembles, but you can tell that he has a southern accent. Perhaps Tethyrian.

“Sothis!” he coughs, speaking hurriedly.

“Yes, yes his ogres march the Lion’s Pass. A thousand, maybe more. None can stand in their way. They make camp in the deep ridge, two miles south. I did not see them - only saw their campfires. But they have sentries posted…war bands like…like us. All over.”

He shakes, looking in horror at Custer and his poison-tipped arrow. Tears stream down his face.

“I’m a merchant!” he says between sobs. “From Saradush. A tanner. I - oh gods, what have I done…”

He chokes out more words, an unintelligible story about being lured with the promise of gold. Of a failing business, and a strong sword arm. Of a year spent being paid well, and doing little but wander the Small Teeth digging…

“Digging. Gods - it’s all I’ve done for a year. Moving from camp to camp, from tribe to tribe. Orcs - humans - goblins - ogres… always digging. But he paid. Every month, he sent 500 gold pieces to my Rosanna, and she would write back about our boy. How can a man walk away from that?”

He sobs deeper, his chest heaving. Mucous pools in his throat, choking him as he swings upside down.

“Two weeks past, they sent me down from the mountains. With men - men I’d never met. And orcs. And this…this battle. I swear it, it was my first in this dark company. And it was so easy. For a year I’ve lived in the mountains with dark men. Today, it was as if you were the brigands. But when I looked into the eyes of the rider I struck down, my soul knew better. Oh, gods. I am a damned man.”

The man trembles, muttering more about regret and whispers, begs of forgiveness on his lips. But no conviction.

“I…I saw the dragon once. Flying high. He…the masked one, told me of the dragon. And Sothis, who could summon her.”

When you press him more about the masked one, he stumbles over his words.

“K-Keisan. The masked one. I met him once. He came down from the towers. The…towers of the eternal eclipse. Up in the teeth. The men all speak about them. Some have even been there. But not me.”

He stops, then starts again.

“Keisan spoke to us of the dragon, and of our alliance to Sothis. The warlord, he seeks ancient power. The cleric would tell us nothing more than that. Just, that all of Amn would tremble in his wake.”

When Custer asks about Grol, the man nods.

“Yes. I know of Grol. His name is known amongst us. Those who live in the mountains. He commands the orcs of the teeth. Clan Maul. He…he has not taken a wife. And, I’ve never heard of one called ‘Uru.’”

The halfling presses about clerics of Cyric.

“Yes…some of Keisan’s order march with the Ogres, though not all. They are an uneasy alliance. Six months ago, Sothis’ Ogres came to the mountains. The men of Cyric stay as far as they can, unless asked otherwise. Unless sent to a warband. Only Keisan knows their arrangement. And Sothis…he does not follow Cyric. He follows only himself. They say he is the greatest sorcerer the Realms have ever known…”

The man is calming, only his eyes betraying his ever-present fear.

“Esmeltaran…I only heard. So it’s true…it is sacked? I do not know. It is whispered that Sothis used powerful magic, and his followers besieged the city through magic portals. Perhaps it is true.”

He seems uncertain.

“I’ve not seen drow in our ranks. Not among the men of Cyric, at least. Nor heard word of Lolth. And shadow thieves…some who dwell in the mountains bear their markings. But not all. And I - I have never been one of them.”

[…]

Jehuty emerges from the treeline, watching you speak with the hanging prisoner. Either he does not see the blood from the torture Osvald inflicted, or he does not care.

“What did he say? What is our plan, fellows.”

The prisoner is silent, his eyes closed tightly, his soul wrestling with his fate.

“If we are to ride tonight, halfling, then we must leave.

==========================

Ok guys - what’s the plan?

Asking more questions of the prisoner? Then what are you doing with him.

Are you riding for the deep ridge, where the Ogre’s camp is?

Are you going somewhere else?

EXP: +20

[Kellar]

After the interrogation was finished, Kellar approached their prisoner. "We've come from homes and left behind loved ones. Everyday I roamed the land finding the thing that did this to me," he said as golden scales shimmered above his face. "You left your family because of your greed and the promise of riches for digging holes. You weren't digging holes this day. You meant to harm my companions," he said. "The ranger here. I have not seen a man so wrought with pain. This is his homeland you walk across in search of things you do not understand. Your ignorance brought your hand to be raised against him. Against us. Look at the funeral pyre. Those were men who had families, who were not paid by gold and false promises," he said.

"There is no reason you can give me that will keep you alive. Justice is found after the battle is won or lost. I will send your Rosanna and son word of your passing. It will not speak of your greed and ignorance. You have my word," he said. "Saradush will receive a crow, carrying the word of your death to your family. No more words," he said. The man still hung from the chains he was strung up by. Kellar felt the man sob and cry. He knew death came for him that was more horrible than what he gave to the Outriders.

Kellar knelt down and put the man's head between his hands. "Vilzriquathtor," he said. The man's eyes opened wide and his eyes turned glossy and froze solid. The frost spread from his eyes to his cheeks and through the rest of his head to his neck. (Used Ray of Frost with hands on, assumed the rolls would not be necessary since it's in touch range). Kellar twisted the head in his hands and it snapped from its base like a dandelion would from its stalk. He set the head in the funeral pyre and then returned and lowered the body and unchained it. He picked up the body and put that in the pyre as well. He stowed the chains back in his pouch and returned to his companions. "We received a great amount of information from him. We can act on some of it but still be cautious. 1,000 strong for an Ogre force sounds impossible, I'd like to see it for myself," he said.

"If we ride, I would like to go as soon as we can. If we encounter another warband like this one we may have the element of surprise. What do you think," he asked.

Actions:
After Osvald and Custer interrogate further or whatnot, Kellar will execute the prisoner.
Kellar will charge one of the remaining Outriders returning to town with taking a letter to crow to Saradush. He hands the Outrider a few gold pieces.
Kellar will ride with the others if they should choose to do so.
Kellar will still defer to Osvald for a course of action.

[Dwan Bolduum]

Dwan walks up to the hanging prisoner beside Jehuty. He does not even balk at the blatant signs of torture and pain.  Helm, I pray you keep a close on your disciple and keep him from turning down a dark path.

If we are to ride tonight, halfling, then we must leave.

I'll have to agree.  If the prisoner speaks true, then these 1000 ogres can be teleported at a moment's notice.  The defense of the city will mean nothing if there is no notice.  All we would have accomplished here is emptying the city of some of it's best soldiers.

Dwan looks over to the cleric and sees the signs of worry on his face.

I'm sorry friend, I don't mean for any harm to come to the city, but if there is any possibility then we must take action now.

Dwan, places two fingers in his mouth and blows a single loud whistle.  His horse trots over to Dwan, head rearing slightly at the sight of Kellar decapitating the prisoner.

Dwan mounts the horse and looks to the group.  

Come, friends, there is not a moment to spare.

=======================================
Dwan will want to ride through the woods and approach the ridge so that intel can be gathered with a low chance of conflict.

[Custer Thickett]

Cuss listens to the tanner tell his tale, digesting everything with nods and the folding of a curious brow. He had more questions, but knew that this Tethyrian would not have the answers. The prospect of Sothis not following Cyric, but being allied with the cult in his own search for ancient power intrigued Thickett. He needed to know if they were looking for the same artifact for conflicting purposes, or if their respective treasures were quiet different.

Kesian hunts for Cyric. Sothis hunts for himself. An uneasy alliance. For now that knowledge would have to do.

"If we ride, I would like to go as soon as we can. If we encounter another warband like this one we may have the element of surprise. What do you think," he asked.

Cuss uncrossed his arms and pointed to the pile of black cloaks he had collected. "Surprise and subterfuge, Kell. The host makes camp or retreats in plain view. We sneak off in the woods looking like one of their warbands. We know Grol and some of his, and Osvald knows their language. We can fool them long enough for a good look, yeah?"

If the prisoner speaks true, then these 1000 ogres can be teleported at a moment's notice.

As Cuss finds a large long cloak that might fit Kellar, he retorts "Oiy, the talk of portals was nonsense. Those that attacked Esmeltaran marched. We saw the trail, yeah?" Cuss drags the cloak over to Kellar and makes pitiful effort of trying to throw it over the towering man's shoulders, earning him some sort of dragon laugh from Orbaugh above.

Come, friends, there is not a moment to spare.

Cuss throws Dwan a cloak, subconsciously aimed for the Dwarf's beard. "Then what are ya waitin for? Heh!"

[Rolling disguise if needed, hoping to give advantage to stealth rolls to any who agree to let Cuss cloth them as marauders. +3 disguise kit proficiency +5 deception]

-------------

Cuss hopes to dress everybody as survivors of the warband and put Osvald in the lead to complete the rouse. He will travel aside Osvald to assist in conversation/deception if needed.

If the group simply will not wear the cloaks, then Cuss is going to turn the closest fitting cloak into a Ghillie suit for himself, using the brush and dry leaves about.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 11

[Ao]

Jehuty nods at Custer, turning his face away as Kellar executes the prisoner.

“Gruesome. But, these are times of war.

He looks at the druid, gauging his distaste for the interrogation and the summary beheading.

“The scales of justice must be preserved, Druid. You, of all, know of the need for balance. A sorry tale of this fellow. But by Helm, he was a murderer. Arsene’s blood was spilled this day, and despite the irreverence, his death has been answered for.”

The cleric is uncharacteristically short. It is plain that the death of the outriders, in particular Arsene, weighs heavily on his mind.

“Come, we ride. Don the cloaks, the halfling knows what’s what.”

[…]

The sun dips below the towering peaks, casting long shadows through the yellow forest, and glaring into your eyes as it peeks between the ridge.

Birds circle overhead, darting into the canopy and then back out, riding the low gusts against a backdrop of winter clouds.

You keep to the side of the road, dipping in and out the forest, the dark cloaks billowing behind you. Over craggy drops, and through root-gnarled and rocky passages.

At once, you hear a warhorn blow far off into the distance.

This is Sothis’ land. That much is plain.

[…]

After an hour, you circle through a winding pass, mindful of an enormous drop-off over a cliff-face.

As you round the corner, you can see that up ahead, a cadre of a dozen horses rides slowly towards you.

They have not seen you yet.

====================

Ok guys -

The riders around the bend are a dozen strong, and clearly a patrol of Cyric, the likes of which the tanner spoke of.

If you round the bend, you’ll run right into them. The pass is only forty feet wide, with the rock wall of the mountain on one side, and the sheer drop off into a tree-studded canopy hundreds of feet below.

You can retreat back into the wooded area, and perhaps hide from them in the bush.

If you are confronting them head on, with words or swords, please make the appropriate checks.

If you intend on hiding or otherwise retreating, make those checks also please.

EXP: +20

[Custer Thickett]

Ahhroooo!  Cuss stops walking and turns his best ear skyward, listening to the sound of the warhorn echo off the high peaks and deep valleys of the Teeth.  "Think that's for us?"  Cuss's eyes dart from shadow to shadow in the stones above them, looking for scouts, sentries, and the source of the blown horn.  "Should we answer it with a toot of our own?"

...

Cuss whistles low as he steps to the side of the cliff to look over the edge.    It reminded him of Anna and Shorjahl.  His eyes look down, then away to take in the vast view.  He looks for any signs of sentries watching the pass or campfires lighting in the dusk, then relieves himself over the side of the cliff in honor of his own small personal tradition.  

As he rounds the bend and sees the approaching band, Cuss whispers up to Osvald.  "Time to start the show, yeah?"  He narrows his eyes to get a good look at them, trying to notice if they are Orcs or Human and if they have any symbols showing that may identify their clan or allegiance.  

[Rolling perception +1]
5 Can't see shit in this light, even if I stepped in it first.

-----

Cuss is just trying to get a look now.  Would like to make another post to hide or deception once we figure out what we are doing.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 4

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald eyes the approaching band warily, looking to the trees, then back to the trail.

"The terrain here grows wilder. If we break into the woods, we'll loose our horses to broken legs in the dark. They'll see the dust trail we kick up, or the path our horses break into the tree line." He looks back to his companions, "If we run, they'll chase us down and we'll have to fight them eventually regardless."

Osvald nods ahead: "I like our odds on this terrain. Act natural, as Cuss has said. Move behind me, and follow along--We'll hug the canyon wall, force them to pass on on the ridge side. If it comes to blows, do what you must, just don't get caught between them and the cliff edge. Keep close, and don't let them divide our ranks."

The ranger then turns in his saddle, speaking to each man in turn. "Kellar: Keep our rear secure, don't let them box us in entirely. Artimus, Jehuty; Whichever one of them opens his mouth first to us is the leader. Single him out and take him down. They'll break with any luck... Cuss, up front with me." He nods to the halfling, and his trusty bows. "We'll need to focus our fire on any riders that flee back along the ridge when the battle tips in our favour. If you can't get a clear shot on the rider--Kill his horse. We can't risk any survivors. Dwan, I'd ask you to be on crowd control. If you've any spell to force them over the edge, Or block their retreat? A growth of thorns to dismount them would be ideal..."

He pauses, raising the hood of the borrowed cloak over his head. "If any of you see them making a move, call out: 'Were you at the sack of Esmelteran?' That'll be our kill phrase. If one of us speaks that aloud, Strike. Without hesitation."

Osvald waits for any to object or add to his plan as the group trots forward along the mountain path.

...

As the group forms up, Osvald leads them close along the canyon wall. In the fading light, he eyes the approaching bandits. The tension mounted, a stand-off for the ages was brewing... With a subtle motion, he drew his dagger, held it with the reins beneath his cloak in his left hand.

As the two groups enter earshot, Osvald calls out in Orcish: "You lot! Where go ye?!" Spurring his horse on gently as his voice echoes down the cold valley below...

=====

Osvald knows that turning to run will make them chase, and if they chase we'll end up in combat eventually anyways. the location is isolated and favourable, He's game to tango here if need be.

Gonna go with a deception as far as we can run it. Osvald has laid out a plan for if things get dicey. Mountain fighting, yo.

Rolling perception on the approaching party, and a Wisdom check if Osvald can discern anything about their group from his knowledge of raiders in this area. Advantage on that one from Pref. Enemy.

Per: 12 + 5 = 17

Wis: 16 + 2 = 18

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Osvald Hale' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 12

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 16, 5

[Dwan Bolduum]

After listening to Osvald's plan, Dwan nods in approval.

Really good plan, Osvald. If you ever lead men in the field, you would be a force to be reckoned with. He says with a smile.

The only thing I can use to push their group could potentially push you all as well. I will not be blasting them away. I will be using my thorns to block their retreat, it will make it difficult for them to alert anyone to our coming. At the phrase I will cast it just behind the last rider.

==============

As the two groups approach, Dwan looks down to avoid the gaze of any enemies. He fiddles with the willow branch in his hand, unbeknownst to his enemies he is focusing his concentration through the scepter to have Spike Growth ready to cast at the kill phrase.

[Ao]

Wind whips around the corner, as Custer peeks out at the advancing marauders, with Osvald in tow.

Birds swoop low over the cliff edge, disappearing down the gravelly surface. On the horizon, miles and miles of mountain ridge and forest spread out before you.

[Perception]

The cadre of men approaching are eleven in number, all of them armed heavily with bow or sword. Dark cloaks are pinned with the sigil of Sothis around their necks, in the same fashion as the marauder you interrogated. It seems these men are all human, and could be emissaries of Cyric also, given their alliance with Sothis and his military.

They each ride a horse, and all look surefooted in these mountains. They are alert and scanning the landscape, and are not talking much among one another.

==========

EXP: +20

[Kellar]

Kellar listened to Osvald's directions and he drifted toward the back of the party as they filed alongside the path. Stay hidden Orbaugh. Under my shield. Kellar closed in the cloak around himself and kept his head low, attempting to appear smaller in size. His left hand began to grow colder while it held the reigns of the horse. He briefly glanced upward at the ridge above their position. No sense in trying to change my position, they're already upon us.

Actions:
Kellar remains on his horse, trying to appear as normal as possible in front of the enemy soldiers.
Kellar has prepared Ray of Frost if he should need it.
Stealth Roll= 13+3= 16; Orbaugh Stealth Roll (Adv.)= 18+4= 22

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 13, 18, 18

[Custer Thickett]

The donkey quickens its step with encouragement from Custer's boot heel, but it trashes its head up and down in frustration, a threat to buck and haw.  Not now you fowl, filthy...  

Uncomfortable and nearly blind in the fading light, he pulls a bolt from his bracer and dips it in a vial of poison.  The cork softly popping as it opened.  He loaded K'Tesh's bow, then dared to loop the reigns of the donkey around his saddle horn, and reached for his other bow.  Carefully, he balanced on his Ass as he worked to subtly load his second bow in his off hand..

[Rolling a sleight of hand check for flavor, to not lose my Ass while trying to load and hold two hand crossbows. +6]
10

On queue the donkey lunges forward and kicks its rear legs.  Cuss keeps his footing, but drops the bolt for the offhand bow when grasping for the horn.  The donkey bellows, 'Hahnkeee!  Cuss replies in a whisper, "Cur as Diabhal."  Annoying Devil.

He leaned to guide the donkey beside Osvald as he listened to the riders respond to Hale's yell.  If they respond in common or Halfling, Cuss will attempt to assist Osvald in deceiving the riders.  He'd possibly say, "We bring words for the Laughing Mask. There have been skirmishes below.  Armored riders, mayhaps from the city.  Maul cut them down.  They say an army under the red banner marches south from Purskul."

[Rolling deception +5, adv.]
20

-----

Rolling the assist because I think my modifiers on deception will be higher.  Hope that's cool Ozzy.  Taking advantage for the disguise.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 4

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#2 'D20' : 11, 15

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