SESSION X
Calmachia the Forge Mother
December 12, 2015
Embedded Files
Ethelred (Dan), Korth (Eddie), Gedar (Obaid), Grapé (Owen), Derek (Shane)
Our heroes began this session entering the final chamber of the Forbidden Forge. They had killed Haestus d’Cannith the Forgewraith, the ghost of the former master of the forge and an amateur necromancer. The doors to the final chamber were huge, ten-feet-wide and thirty-feet-tall. They were made of brass and were embossed with the iron bull symbol of House Cannith. The doors were super heavy, and it took the combined might of Williams, Korth and Derek to open them over the course of thirty seconds. Inside was a huge vaulted chamber that went well above the Creation Forge, a huge sixty-feet-tall piece of alchemical machinery that was so hot and powerful the fire burned a bright violet. A glass viewing window peered into the workings of the machinery and showed flaming gears and pistons working on some sort of project.
Heat and a loud noise poured through the open door. Beyond was a vast arcane workshop that appeared to be performing all its functions by itself — gears whirled, levers moved up and down, and lightning arced between rods. Across from the door, an enormous glass hatch revealed red fire on the other side.
As subtle as a serpent, a dragon emerged from near the forge. It had flesh made of wood strands, stone plates, and metal scales. Its teeth were like steel daggers, and its eyes flashed with blue light. A hint of lightning danced on its steel scales. “Who enters my forge unbidden?” said the dragon in a voice that vibrated the hero’s innards and tickled their minds.
Calmachia sat atop the creation forge’s viewing window and stared down at the heroes with disdain. A human in artificer armor with a mace and copper rod belted at his hip stood next to the mechanical dragon and was visibly angry at their entrance.
“You fuckers. My name is Kibrat d’Cannith, and you're the ones who killed Anton. My brother.”
Kibrat drew his copper rod and stamped violently on the top of the machine. The two steel doors without handles in the front of the machinery flew open forcefully and two metal drakes, red hot and fresh from the forge, leapt out. Derek, Grapé and Korth ran into the room and hacked apart one of the forge drakes with ease. Suddenly with the clicking of servos and the bending of strong wood Calmachia dropped down from atop the forge with a loud clang and the crunching of marble floors. Gears whirred outwards from the side of her jaw and it unhinged like a snake. Powerful plasma glowed white and blue shot out of her mouth in a huge twenty-feet wide cone that washed over Korth, Derek and Grapé and wore away their clothes and skin with pure arcane energy. They were still alive but almost went unconscious from the powerful blast. It hurt like fire that sunk into their flesh like cold knives… horrible.
As they fought, Kibrat threw down spells — everything from red lightning, firebolts, and more. Calmachia waded into battle with the heroes, attacking with the rotary blades on the end of her tail and the sharp sword-like teeth that filled her mouth. Ethelred turned into a Giant Vulture and attempted to deal some damage that way, but the barrage failed. He retreated to the top of the Creation Forge and pushed Kibrat off, breaking both of his legs and causing him to howl in pain before being executed by Williams. The clash between the martial heroes and Calmachia drew desperate as Gedar, Korth and Derek were all slashed across the chest and began quickly bleeding out. Finally, when Calmachia flew upwards to attack the druid, Ethelred destroyed the dragon with a lightning bolt, atomizing the construct and causing it to disappear. In its place a small yellow gem appeared, which was recognized as an Ion Stone of Water Walking.
The final drake was dispatched, and Ethelred threw out healing words to bring his friends back from death’s grip. They were all so tired that they simply turned off the forge and took a long rest to recover from their wounds. Ethelred took charge of placing the bomb in the forge and flipping the switch, turning into a vulture to fly away as fast as possible while it went off. As the forge crackled and sizzled to life and no explosion had yet been heard they listened in horror as they heard the sound of bagpipes and marching boots from the entrance of the forge. As they were waiting for the bomb to go off a squad of twenty-four soldiers marched into view in full chainmail with longswords and pikes. In front was a brown-haired man in full plate with the symbol of the Silver Flame painted on the chest plate, who drew his sword and pointed it at the intruders.
“What are you doing here?” the man yelled confidently. “Under what jurisdiction are you present? I am Patrick Dariznu, lieutenant of the army of Thrane–”
Then Caoven’s bomb went off.
The bagpipe bearers in the back were silenced and the soldiers stood in awe and fear for a split second before quickly turning into anger.
“What the hell did you do! Why are you trying to stop us?” asked Patrick Dariznu.
“You are attempting to start the war again, and we are trying to stop it!” said Ethelred.
“I… ah…” stuttered Patrick, his face turning red with anger. “That's what we’re trying to do!” he yelled, silencing the party and everyone else who was speaking. “We received intel from a divine source that the wizards of the Mages College of Arcanix (a small town a couple hundred miles to the west of the current location) are attempting to open a permanent gate to Hell. We’re trying to stop them from bringing hellfire and brimstone to our world, and now you’ve lessened our chances of doing that now!”
He put away his sword and stared down at them. Korth took the time to fully explain why they were there and that they had no idea that, “apparently a hell gate is being opened” and was able to calm down Patrick’s fury by this explanation.
“I can’t promise your complete safety without your full surrender. You’re unwilling accomplices in hindering our efforts to defend the safety of the world, but you’re still accomplices” explained Patrick.
“What will happen to us if we do surrender?” Gedar asked.
“Well… you’ll be prisoners of war. You won’t get a trial until after our campaign is over, which I sincerely hope we do since it would mean the end of the world…”
It took some convincing to get Ethelred to turn back into his gnome form (he had been a giant-sized vulture for the entire duration of the exchange) but they all put their hands forward and were placed in manacles by one of the soldiers who carried a pack with chains for prisoners. They were escorted out of the Forbidden Forge only to see that it wasn’t just the twenty-four soldiers there, but perhaps an entire company of soldiers making camp outside the forge. Patrick escorted them to the main pavilion tent with the crest of Thrane at the top of the flap and brought them in alone. Two people were in the tent crowded around a map of the surrounding countryside — one of which looked extremely similar to Patrick but with a small circlet of silver on his head. The other person there was someone the party (except for Gedar) recognized but who looked different. His skin was less gravelly and gray, much smoother and white like marble and had smaller wings. It was Gargy the Gargoyle.
Gargy saw them and said “Oh… it’s you guys.” He explained that when the heroes freed him from his imprisonment he attempted to plane-shift back to his former patron deity, Ogrémoch, but miscalculated and ended up floating freely in Siberys. He was rescued by the Silver Flame in exchange for undying servitude, “and becoming a holy defender of all that is just!” he said with a sigh. Gargy seemed fairly apathetic and even sad that he was bound to someone other than his true god, and looked down sadly. The man next to him payed the wingwyrd (what he had now become) very little attention as he questioned the heroes, who gave a full account similarly as they had given to Patrick.
This man introduced himself as Muriam Dariznu and the General of the army of Thrane, leader of this company of soldiers. Some of the heroes attempted to appease him and ask what would happen if they were to offer their services to the army and he laughed out loud. “Why the hell would I trust you people? You destroyed one of the only chances we had at having a better hand than our enemies. If they are able to open that gate to hell all the blood they spill in their revelry will be on your hands.”
Muriam threw them out and had Patrick take them to a prison tent down from the main pavilion and put them there. He warned them, “Again, I can’t guarantee your safety if you act out of line or attempt to escape. Just because Muriam is my brother doesn’t mean that he’ll do whatever I want, especially when he’s angry. Execution angry.” He then left them in the tent with six guards directly outside the entrance. They looked around and debated for a while on how to escape, Korth using his fire breath to melt and break apart his chains, until they heard an annoying tapping on the mirror — it was Caoven.
This was the first time Gedar had seen the strange half-elven man, but the rest recognized him immediately. His once purple eyes were covered in a heavy bandage that stretched around his head, meaning he was blind. His hands attempted to push through the mirror, in an attempt to teleport to them, but he did not seem to be strong enough to push his way through. His hands laid flat on the mirror and vibrated so fast that the mirror in their tent did the same, edges distorting and making sound, they vibrated so fast. As such his voice was stretched and distorted but was distinctly his own.
He seemed extremely concerned and asked them if the mission was complete; he seemed to be visibly relieved that the Creation Forge had been detonated and no casualties had been reported. Seeing them bound up except for Korth who had melted through his bindings, he asked why they were imprisoned. When they shared what had transpired and their capture by the armies of Thrane he seemed extremely concerned. He told them that something was wrong, and this shouldn’t have happened, yet he did know that something was coming. When something powerful encroaches on the horizon of time and space diviners tend to temporarily lose their sight (as he has now). The same thing happened a week before the Day of Mourning when the entire kingdom of Cyre was destroyed by magical disaster, probably meaning that whatever was coming was just as catastrophic and dangerous.
Caoven told them that they needed to escape from the camp; it was not safe, and they had to travel to Arcanix to help prevent the army from taking it. He promised them, “whatever you wish, please, this could mean the lives of tens of thousands of people,” in exchange for their help. They agreed and he disappeared from the mirror. As they prepared to try and brake out of more chains the guards outside of their tent tensed up and saluted an approaching figure. “Hail, Holy Guardian of the Flame!” they said in unison, and the heroes heard Gargy’s distinctively gravelly voice say, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You guys can ease up,” and he entered the tent.
Seeing Korth breaking the links between his chains, Gargy feigned outrage and non-threateningly grabbed Korth’s free arm. “Oh no, there is a riot of prisoners! I must retreat and pray to my holy deity!” and flamboyantly spun around, dropping a jingling bag on the ground. He left the tent, and the PCs could hear him tell the guards “You guys can take a break, I’ll guard these guys they’re no big deal.” The guards responded with “Of course honored guardian,” and marched off. They could also hear the loud swooping of stone wings lifting a marble statue.
Inside the pouch Gargy left behind was a metal keyring. Testing them, they were the keys to their manacles. They waited until the sun set and darkness fell over the camp to take action, but Korth felt something weird happening. He took off the bone crown that he had acquired from the spooky dance off and saw that the once empty socket was filled with a spectral blue pumpkin made of fire. When he put it back on and thought of that event three skeletons dug their way out of the ground and saluted him. They asked him “Is it time to get spooky?” Korth said “yes” and dozens more dug themselves out of the ground, and the same song from the raveyard emitted out of the holes they came from. In a group they ran from the tent where their king was hiding and descended on any guards they found. As the heroes ran out of the tent to view exactly what was happening, they watched in horror as the skeletons tore the flesh off of some poor guard, throwing away his organs and flesh and covering themselves in his blood. When they were done, they pulled up the somehow attached skeleton of the man they had just killed, and they could hear in the distance that this skeleton that got to its feet said, “Thank fuck it was hot in there.”
The heroes ran from their distraction towards the main pavilion tent where their gear was being held. Grapé snuck into the tent to grab their bags and give it to them, since he was the sneakiest. On the last bag of gear he realized that Muriam, the general, was sleeping on a cot in the pavilion with a nearly empty bottle of Nathyr Brandy in his hand. Grapé took the opportunity to slit his throat with his rapier. The General woke up and attempted to resist, but he was heavily inebriated, and his struggling was held down by the Changeling. Nobody except Grapé knows that this happened. Next to the pavilion was a makeshift wooden pen with mounts for the generals, lieutenants and officers. They were a breed of dinosaurs called Fastieth (velociraptors) that were faster than horses but could not carry as much. They were able to carry a single person each and the heroes took them, but if they had heavy cargo the Fastieth would not be able to carry it. Riding away from the camp the heroes saw that a lone skeleton remained, attempting to challenge a cleric of the Silver Flame to a musical duel, only to have his skull smashed in anger.
With the help of Ethelred, the group was able to ride through the Eldritch Grove away from the army. On the backs of Fastieth it took them just under three days to reach the town. As they approached, they could see that the village itself was rural and homely, while huge towers arcing with magic energy floated on rocky islands hundreds of feet above. Dozens and dozens of dragonhawk riders (Aundarian military units who ride on giant hawks) flew in the sky patrolling the area. Villagers, soldiers, and militia (shown by the red handprint on their leather armor) built fortifications on the outside border of town. Digging trenches, laying caltrops, felling trees and turning them into spiked barricades. As they began to enter the town proper Korth noticed that a half-orc in the militia armor with a blue hand approached them with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Civilians and soldiers continued to work all around them, so they stayed put and watched him approach.
The half-orc introduced himself as Malthar, and a captain of the Arcanix Militia. He was told to be on the lookout for a red dragonborn traveling with a bullywug. Korth introduced himself in turn but due to his inexperience with social etiquette took his hand and kissed it. Ignoring the gesture, Malthar told them that they were expected at the army’s headquarters. Malthar took them to a small castle that seemed very new and polished as though it had recently appeared in the open field. They passed soldiers retrieving weaponry and tools from the castle's interior and rushing them back outside. Eventually they went up a tower and entered a domed conference room with maps and strategic miniatures all around, only two people in the room. One was a tall man with long black hair and a lengthy black beard, with a vest of red scale male. To Korth’s dismay it appeared to be made from actual dragon’s scales rather than just painted metal scales. The other man had brown hair and a large bushy beard with auburn tips. He wore chainmail and had a single scabbard-less sword belted on his hip. The blade had runes of arcane power edged into the blade and the hilt was in the shape of a powerful hawk.
The man with the dragon scale male excused himself and said, “I will attend to it,” and stepped outside just past the adventurers. Korth made a remark about him so he turned around, smiling, and said that, “he always loves it when Dragonborn first see him, they’re so amusing,” then left. Malthar ignored him and shook hands with the man with the hawk sword, introducing himself to the heroes as Devon ir’Braessek, general of the Aundairan army and Knight Arcane.
“You’re the group of mercenaries who encountered the approaching army, correct?” he said. “Then we do not have as much time as we thought to prepare the town for an attack of this scale. I was told by my superiors that you are all extremely valuable assets and capable warriors that are willing to fight to keep Arcanix as Aundairan territory. This half-elfen man… Caoven, was the first to alert us to the encroach of soldiers on our land. He also said that your assistance would be key to ensuring the survival of many of this town’s citizens. While I do not believe he has any actually military experience, the nobility of Fairhaven believes him, and I am beholden to them.
“Thus, I ask that when the time comes and Thrane knocks on our doorstep, you come to me and I will give you an important position to defend. You won’t be the tip of the spear, the front of the line. You’re too valuable to be killed in war, and there are important points away from the battleground that need defense. Also, I’m sure you will be interested that the town is paying anyone who signs up to fight, as well as anyone who helps construct defenses on the outskirts of town where the battle will likely take place.”
The party pretty much agreed that they would help the Aundarian Army (since they had promised Caoven). They now had a day to rest, help the militia construct defenses, explore the town and stock up on potions and more from the market. As they began to debate what to do first, they all heard the sound of air being sucked out of a vacuum outside of the castle and the flaps of huge draconic wings, from some creature as large or even larger than the castle.
“Yeah, that was the mayor,” said Devon, smiling.
Original campaign diary
Original campaign diary
We started this session entering the final chamber of the Forbidden Forge. They had killed Haestus d'Cannith the Forgewraith, the ghost of the former head of the place and amateur necromancer. The doors to the final chamber were huge, ten feet wide and thirty feet tall. They were made of brass and were embossed with an outward symbol of the House Cannith symbol (the iron bull). They were super heavy and it took the combined might of Williams, Korth and Derek to open them over the course of thirty seconds. Inside was a huge vaulted chamber that went well above the Creation Forge, a huge 60 ft tall piece of alchemical machinery that was so hot and powerful that the fire was bright violet. A glass view window peered into the workings of the machinery showed flaming gears and pistons working on some sort of project.
"Heat and loud sound pour through the open door. Beyond is a vast arcane workshop that appears to be performing all its functions by itself—gears whirl, levers move up and down, and lightning arcs between rods. Across from the door, an enormous glass hatch reveals red fire on the other side."
"As supple as a serpent, a dragon emerges from near the forge. It has flesh made of wood strands, stone plates, and
metal scales. Its teeth are like steel daggers, and its eyes flash with blue light. A hint of lightning dances on its steely scales. “Who enters my forge unbidden?” says the dragon in a voice that vibrates your innards and tickles your mind."
Calmachia sat atop the creation forge's view window, and stared at them with disdain. A human in artificer armor with a mace and copper rod belted at his hip stood next to the mechanical dragon and was visibly angry at their arrival.
"You fuckers. My name is Kibrat d'Cannith, and you're the ones who killed Anton. MY BROTHER"
Kibrat drew his copper rod and stamped violently on the top of the machine. The two steel doors without handles in the front of the machinery flung open with force and two forge drakes, entirely red hot and fresh from the forge leapt out. Derek, Grapé and Korth ran into the room and hacked apart one of the Forge Drakes with ease. Suddenly with the clicking of servos and the bending of strong wood Calmachia dropped down from the top of the forge with a loud clang and the crunching of the marble floors. Gears whirred outwards from the side of her jaw and it unhinged like a snake. Powerful plasma that glowed white and blue shot out in a huge 20-ft wide cone that bathed over Korth, Derek and Grapé and wore away their clothes and skin with pure arcane energy. They were still alive but were almost brought to unconsciousness by the powerful blast. It hurt like fire that sunk into their flesh like cold knives...horrible.
As they fought Kibrat the Artificer threw down spell, from the Red Lightning to firebolts and more. Calmachia waded into battle with the PCs, attacking with the rotary blades on the end of her tail and the sharp sword-like teeth that filled her mouth. Ethelred turned into a Giant Vulture and attempted to deal some damage that way, but the barrage failed so he flew away to the top of the Creation Forge and pushed Kibrat off, breaking both of his legs and causing him to howl in pain before being executed by Williams. The clash between the martial PCs and Calmachia drew desperate as Gedar, Korth and Derek were all slashed across the chest and very quickly bleeding out. Finally when Calmachia flew upwards to attack the druid Ethelred put the dragon down with a lightning bolt, atomizing the construct and causing it to dissapear. In its place a small yellow gem that was recognized as an Ioun Stone of Water Walking which Ethelred took for himself.
The final drake was dispatched and Ethelred threw out healing words to bring his friends back from death's edge. They were all so tired that they simply turned off the forge and took a long rest to recover from their wounds. Ethelred took charge of placing the bomb in the forge and flipping the switch, turning into a vulture to fly away as fast as possible while it went off. As the forge crackled and sizzled to life and no explosion had yet been heard they listened in horror as they heard the sound of bagpipes and marching boots from the entrance of the forge. Soon as they kept waiting for the bomb to go off a squad of 24 soldiers marched into view in full chainmail with longswords and pikes. In front was a brown-haired man in full plate with the symbol of the Silver Flame painted on the chestplate drew his sword and pointed it at the intruders.
"What are you doing here? Under what jurisdiction are you present? I am Patrick Dariznu lieutenant of the army of Thrane- " He said confidently.
Then Caoven's bomb went off.
The bagpipe bearers in the back were silenced and the soldiers stood in awe and fear for a split moment which then quickly turned to anger.
"What the hell did you do?! Why are you trying to stop us?" Patrick asked
"You're trying to start the war up again! We're trying TO STOP IT!" Ethelred proclaimed.
"I...ah....*angry intensifies*-THAT'S WHAT WE'RE TRYING TO DO" Patrick yelled out silencing the party and anyone else who may have been speaking. "We received intel from a divine source that the wizards of the Mages College of Arcanix (a small town a couple hundred miles to the west of the current location) are attempting to open a permanent gate to Hell. We're trying to stop them from bringing hellfire and brimstone to our world, and now you've lessened our chances of DOING THAT NOW."
He put away his sword and stared down at them. Korth took the time to fully explain why they were there and that they had no idea that "apparently a hell gate is being opened" and was able to calm down Patrick's fury by this explanation.
"I can't promise your complete safety without your full surrender. You're unwilling accomplices in hindering our efforts to defend the safety of the world, but you're still accomplices." Patrick explained
"What will happen to us if we do surrender?" Gedar questioned
"Well...you'll be prisoners of war. You won't get a trial until after our campaign is over, which I sincerely hope we do since it would mean the end of the world..."
It took some convincing to get Ethelred to turn back into his gnome form (he had been a giant sized vulture for the entire duration of the exchange) but they all put their hands forward and were put in manacles by one of the soldiers who carried a pack with chains for prisoners. They were escorted out of the Forbidden Forge only to see that it wasn't just the 24 soldiers here but around another 75-80 outside making camp, meaning a full company of soldiers was all around them. Patrick escorted them to the head pavilion tent with the crest of Thrane at the top of the flap and brought them in alone. Two people were in the tent crowded around a map of the surrounding countryside - one of which looked extremely similar to Patrick but with a small crown/circlet of silver on his head. The other person there was someone the party (except for Gedar) recognized but looked different. His skin was less gravelly and gray, much smoother and white like marble and had smaller wings. It was Gargy the Gargoyle!
Gargy saw them and said "Oh...it's you guys". He explained that when the PCs freed him from his imprisonment he attempted to plane shift back to his former god Ogrémoch, but miscalculated and ended up floating freely in Siberys. He was rescued by the Silver Flame in exchange for undying servitude "and becoming a holy defender of all that is just! *sigh*" Gargy seemed fairly apathetic and even sad that he is bound to someone other than his true god, and looked down sadly. The man next to him payed the Wingwyrd (what he had now become) very little attention as he questioned the PCs, whom gave a full account similarly as they had done to Patrick.
This man introduced himself as Muriam Dariznu and the General of the Army of Thrane, and leader of this full company of soldiers. A couple of the PCs attempted to appease him and ask what would happen if they were to offer their services to the army and he laughed out loud: "Why the hell would I trust you people? You destroyed one of the only chances we had at having a better hand than our enemies. If they are able to open that gate to hell all of the blood they spill in their revelry will be on your hands.
Muriam threw them out and had Patrick take them to a prison tent a few tents down from the main pavilion and put them there. He warned them: "Again, I can't guarantee your safety if you act out of line or attempt to escape. Just because Muriam is my brother doesn't mean that he'll do whatever I want, especially when he's angry. Execution angry." He then left them in the tent with 6 guards directly outside of the entrance. They looked around and debated for a while on how to escape, Korth using his fire breath to melt and break apart his chains, until they heard an annoying tapping on the mirror - it was Caoven.
This was the first time Gedar had seen the strange half-elf man, but the rest recognized him immediately. His once purple eyes were covered in a heavy bandage that stretched around his head, meaning he was blind. His hands attempted to push through the mirror, in an attempt to teleport to them, but he didn't seem to be strong enough to push his way through. His hands laid flat on the mirror and vibrated so fast that the mirror in their tent did the same, edges distorting and making sound they vibrated so fast. As such his voice was stretched and distorted but was distinctly his own.
He seemed extremely concerned and asked them if the mission was complete; he seemed to visibly be relieved that the Creation Forge had been detonated and no casualties had been reported (other than near death). Seeing them bound up except for Korth who had melted through his bindings, he asked why they were bound up. When they shared what had transpired and their capture by the armies of Thrane he seemed extremely concerned. He told them that something is wrong and this shouldn't be happening...yet he does know that something is coming. When something powerful encroaches on the horizon of time and space diviners tend to temporarily lose their sight (as he has now). The same thing happened a week before the Day of Mourning when the entire kingdom of Cyre was destroyed by magical disaster, probably meaning that whatever is coming is just as catastrophic and dangerous.
Caoven tells them that they need to escape from the camp; it is not safe and they need to travel to Arcanix to help prevent the army from taking it. He promises them "whatever you wish, just please, this could mean the lives of tens of thousands of people" in exchange for their help. They agreed and he dissipated from the mirror. As they prepared to try and brake out of more chains the guards outside of their tent tensed up and saluted an approaching figure. "Hail, Holy Guardian of the Flame!" they said in unison, and the PCs heard Gargy's distinctively gravely voice say "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You guys can ease up." and he entered the tent.
Seeing Korth breaking the links between his chains, Gargy feigned outrage and non-threateningly grabbed Korth's free arm. "Oh no, there is a riot of prisoners! I must retreat and pray to my holy diety!" And flamboyantly spun around, dropping a jingling bag on the ground. He left the tent and the PCs could hear him tell the guards "You guys can take a break, I'll guard these guys they're no big deal." The guards responded with "Of course honored guardian!" And they marched off. They could also hear the loud swooping of stone wings lifting a marble statue.
Inside the pouch Gargy left behind was a metal keyring. Testing the keys; they were the keys to their manacles. They waited until the sun set and darkness fell over the camp to take action, but Korth felt something weird happening. He took off the bone crown that he had acquired from the sp00ky dance off and saw that the once empty socket was filled with a spectral blue pumpkin made of fire. When he put it back on and thought of that event three skeletons dug their way out of the ground and saluted him. They asked him "IS IT TIME TO GET SP00KY?"...when Korth said yes dozens more dug themselves out of the ground and the same dance song that played at the raveyard emitted out of the holes they came from. In a group they ran from the tent where their king was hiding and descended on any surprised guards they found. As the PCs ran out of the tent to view exactly what was happening they watched in horror as the skeletons tore the flesh off of some poor guard, throwing away his organs and flesh and covering themselves in his blood. When they were done they pulled up the somehow attached skeleton of the man they had just killed, and they could hear in the distance that this skeleton that got to its feet said "Thank fuck it was hot in there".
They ran from their distraction towards the main pavilion tent where their gear was being held. Grapé snuck into the tent to grab their bags and give it to them, back and forth since he was the sneakiest. On the last bag of gear he realized that Muriam, the general, was sleeping on a cot in the pavilion with a 2/3 empty bottle of Nathyr Brandy in his hand. Grapé took the opportunity to slit his throat with his rapier. The General woke up and attempted to resist, but he was heavily inebriated and his struggling was held down by the Changeling. [NO CHARACTER BESIDES GRAPé KNOWS THAT THIS HAPPENED] Next to the pavilion was a makeshift wooden pen with mounts for the generals, lieutenants and officers. They were a breed of dinosaurs called Fastieth (velociraptors) that were faster than horses but couldn't carry as much. They were able to carry a single person and the PCs took them, but if they had heavy cargo the Fastieth wouldn't be able to carry it. Riding away from the camp the PCs saw that a lone skeleton remained, attempting to challenge a cleric of the Silver Flame to a musical duel, only to have his skull smashed in anger.
With the help of Ethelred the party were able to ride through the Eldritch Grove away from the army. On the backs of Fastieth it took them just under 3 days to reach the town. As they approached they could see that the village itself is extremely agricultural and homely, while huge towers arcing with magic energy floated on rocky islands hundreds of feet above. Dozens and dozens of dragonhawk riders (Aundarian military units who ride on giant hawks) flew in the sky patrolling the area. Villagers, soldiers as well as militia (shown by the red hand print on their leather armor) built fortifications on the outside border of town. Digging trenches, laying caltrops, chopping trees and turning them into spiked barricades etc. As they began to enter the town proper Korth noticed that a half-orc in the militia armor with a blue hand approached them with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Civilians and soldiers continued to work all around them so they stayed put and watched him approach.
The half-orc introduced himself as Malthar, and a captain of the Arcanix Militia. He was told to be on the lookout for a red dragonborn traveling with a Bullywug...Korth introduced himself in turn but due to his inexperience with social etiquette took his hand and kissed it. Ignoring the man he told them that they were all expected at the army's headquarters. Malthar took them to a small castle that seemed very new and polished as though it had recently appeared in the open field. They passed soldiers retrieving weaponry and tools from the castle's interior and rushing them back outside. Eventually they went up a tower and entered a domed conference room with maps and strategic miniatures all around, only two people in the room. One was a tall man with long black hair and a lengthy black beard, with a vest of red scale male. To Korth's dismay it appeared to be made from actual dragon's scales rather than just painted metal scales. The other man had brown hair and a large bushy beard with auburn tips. He wore chainmail and had a single scabbard-less less belted on his hip. The blade had runes of arcane power edged into the blade and the hilt was in the shape of a powerful hawk.
The man with the dragon scale male excused himself and said "I will attend to it" and stepped outside just past the PCs. Korth made a remark about him so he turned around, smiling, and said that "he always loves it when Dragonborn first see him, they're so amusing" then left. Melthar ignored him and shook hands with the man with the hawk sword, introducing himself to the PCs as Devon ir'Braessek, general of the Aundarian army and Knight Arcane.
"You're the group of mercenaries who encountered the approaching army, correct?"
"Then we do not have as much time as we thought to prepare the town for an attack of this scale. I was told by my superiors that you are all extremely valuable assets and capable warriors that are willing to fight to keep Arcanix as Aundairian territory. This half-elf man...Caoven, was the first to alert us to the encroach of soldiers on our land. He also said that your assistance would be key to ensuring the survival of many of this town's citizens. While I do not believe he has any actually military experience; the nobility of Fairhaven believe him and I am beholden to them.
Thus I ask that when the time comes and Thrane knocks on our doorstep, you come to me and I will give you an important position to defend. You won't be the tip of the spear, the front of the line. You're too valuable to be killed in war, and there are important points away from the battleground that need defense. Also, I'm sure you will be interested that the town is paying anyone who signs up to fight, as well as anyone who helps construct defenses on the outskirts of town where the battle will likely take place."
The party pretty much agreed that they would help the Aundarian Army (since they had promised Caoven). They now have a day to rest, help the militia construct defenses, explore the town and stock up on potions and more from the market. As they begun to debate what to do first they all heard the sound of air being sucked out of a vacuum outside of the castle and the flaps of huge draconic wings, from some creature that's as large or even larger than the castle.
"Yeah, that was the mayor." Devon said, smiling.
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