OOC: I'm a little confused too, let me see if I get this straight. The goblins and worgs and whatnot are attacking and your character is behind them?

Sorry, it was a bit confusing so worked on my post. New charater is joining the group using GMs last post of the attack by the Hobs and Worgs to get into the fight.

Sereena just loves a good fight.

The Dragonborn saluted his opponents, as was the custom of his people to salue even the lowliest of opponents. He then lunged toward one of the worgs, his blade flashing in the moonlight filtered through the trees.

The worg lunged back, prepared for the attack, opened its jaws wide, and was ripped apart by Petraak's huge sword. He then hesitated, perhaps a moment too long, hearing a slight noise from behind the group and fearing reinforcements. He turned around and accidentally gave a fatal wound to a hobgoblin.

"My luck is good tonight..." he thought to himself.

The sounds of battle filled the air as the Dragonborn knight took a deep breath and rejoined the fray, breathing steam in the cold night. None of his comrades would fall this night if he had anything to say about it. Certainly not to this riff-raff.

Ula moved through the wood leaving the forest floor undisturbed, no trail marked her passage. She followed the fledgling group of companions through the Felwood in search of temple forgotten to the wild. The faery smiled to herself as she recounted what had passed at the inn.

Xanaras had sent them on this quest with promises of treasure and glory, but Ula had little interest in treasure and glory. The fey folk did what they did for their own reasons and those that sought their aid payed a high price, so high that few sought their aid. Xanaras had called for her help and she had answered, the price he would pay would be high indeed.

Ula continued through the woodland in silence concentrating on each step. The dream called to her, a sweet song of the beyond and unknown. Part of her yearned to follow its call, but not yet, she was not ready to leave. Few of the fey folk remained in the world of men. The dream called to them and they followed beyond the boundaries of the mortal world never to return. Soon the dream's call would be to great to deny, but for now she held it at bay. Ula hoped it would last.

Snapping twigs and growls broke her from the dream song and her eyes shot forward to the source. She growled lowly, hobgoblins and worgs were unnatural abominations of the land. Her spirit reached out sinking deep into the forest floor. Thoughts and images spun into the ground caressing the dormant life within and calling it forth.

Thick roots and vines shot up from the earth wrapping themselves tightly around a large hobgoblin. The writhing plants tightened around the creature holding it in constriction. Soon bones began to snap with audible cracks as the beast gurgled its last breath.

Petraak removes his sword from the corpse of a hobgoblin and breathes steam again in the cold of the night. He backhands a worg away before dispatching it as well.

Steam and smoke from the gnome's device cloud the air, but Petraak's eyes see perfectly in the dark. It's nice to have the upper hand, he thought. Another one of the worgs rushed toward him, and, remembering a tome he studied once, recited an incantation and raised his hand toward the worg.

*FLASH* (OOC: like my special effects?
The worg, blinded, screeches and falls back, now an easy opponent for the dragonborn. He looked around through the smoke. The battle was almost over.

Keeping her distance from the gnomes smokey explosion Ula turned from the writhing vines letting them ensnare their next prey. Her eyes met a trio of hobgoblins rushing towards her. At the sight of the fey they stopped and growled. Pulling dark blades from their pockets the three made their approach to her slowly each grinning and bearing their yellow fangs. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of the dark metal, cold forged iron. Goblinkind hated and feared the fey folk and most carried weapons of cold forged iron. The three made their way closer smiling with bloodlust as they realized she was unarmed. Fools. Though she carried no weapons she was not without defenses.

Ula stared at the three for a moment and smiled. She opened herself to the dream letting its siren song wash over her. Within its rhythms she felt its call and longed to follow, but she did not. Stilling herself she reached into the darkest depths of the dreamworld and spun a nightmare into the minds of the hobgoblins. The trio stared at her for a moment as their eyes went black and the fear overtook them. They began to scream and thrash their blades about. As steel and iron bit into goblin flesh the hobgoblins trashed with heightened fury. Ula stood back and watched the creatures kill one another for a moment before returning her attentions to the knells of battle. If three of the beast had carried weapons of cold forged iron it was likely that more did and she would not be caught unaware. That metal would not touch her again.

Miriele'Isilfea who had scouted ahead turned back when the growls of the hobgoblins alerted her to their presences. Her silent call to Smokey brought the fleet front runner back as fast as she could run. Stormy hated Worgs, once they had killed a litter of her cubs, besides hey were warped wolves and an anthema to all true wolves.

Stormy raced through the underbrush and attack the second worgs that leap to attack the dragon-bllo0ded knight. Slashing teeth grabbed a rear leg hamstringing the great twisted beast even as it leaped at Petraak. It went done as the big knight nearly severed it in two.

Miri took out her bow reaching the eage of the fight. Three hobgoblins were advancing on the old fey woman. As quick as a blink she drew notched and fired two arrow at once at the biggest hobgoblin attacking th eold woman. She did not stop with that. Hobgoblins were hard to kill so she notched two more as one even as she noticed a strange thing, now that she had time to survey the situation. Those three Hobgoblins were attacking each other. None-the-less she fired double arrows again. They struck as one in the second hobgoblin of the trio. In the meantime they kept fighting each other. Smoke began to blow between herself and her targets from some source. She was forced to shift her position. Ill luck indeed. It made her wonder if they had a mage or shaman with them. Miri looked around for such a creature perhaps hidden in the forest.

~~Stormy hunt for a hidden hobgoblin~~ Miri's telepathy was strong and clear.

The last of the monsters appeared from the depths of the forest, led by a hobgoblin mage who carried a staff covered in feathers and topped by a human skull. It was clearly of importance to the goblins, and it was also clearly dangerous. Lightning flicked through the night from the top of the staff, lighting the eyes of the skull. The goblin shrieked with a sound that cut the cold air around them like a sword. Petraak knew that the little magic he knew wouldn't do any good against this beast, and it was clearly invoking it's next spell, something chaotic and dangerous. Wanting no harm to come to his friends, he harnessed every bit of strength he had and hurled his sword toward the shaman.

The sword sang through the air, cutting through the cold night air. It neared the shaman and he shrieked again, losing his concentration. He would lose more than that. His arm was severed as the staff fell to the ground, thunking on the hard dirt. The dragonborn knight rushed at the goblin, knocking it into a tree. He picked up his sword and gave the goblin a final blow, ending the threat of attack.

"Is everyone alright? It's late, and we should make camp here for the night. I'll clear the deceased away and give them a burial, as they deserve."

Petraak made sure everyone had survived the battle, and, after securing his armor and weapon once again, began gathering the bodies of the goblins and worgs to bury in the forest, as was the custom of his people to bury even the enemy.

It was a frigid night, and the fire felt good when Petraak returned. Still, there was something distinctly dangerous in the air, but he didn't know what, and he was getting too tired to care. He began to eat the trail rations that he brought to regain some of his lost strength before he slept.

"I don't know what the old magi wants from us. There's something that seems wrong here. This forest seems to not want us here. I can't think of any way to describe it but that."

The unflappable knight shivered at the thought, for it was one thing to face an enemy you could see coming, but it was another to face the darkness of Felwood. Dark, deep, and seeming to look down upon the adventurers and their crackling fire.

Jonathan was gasping for air, his chest heaving. Though he had not killed any goblins, he had supported his fellow adventurers with a striking warsong, strengthened by strumming the bass strings on his special harp in a rapid succession. The powerful song had been more a series of hums and reverberating vowels rising to powerful blasts, than words pushing his comrades onwards, since in combat, words inaudibly lost their meaning.

He just hoped his newfound companions realized that he had not cowardly stayed in the back of the group. He had done that which he did best.

Now the dragonborn stated his worries about the forest, Jonathan changed his harp for his guitar and strummed a few joyful cords.

"What we need is a few good songs to lighten up this forest. I happen to know a few..."

He played the intro to the well known 'Whisper sweet nothings, under your Dragon's Breath', and wanted to start singing the story that belonged with the notes. Then he remembered the goblin shaman's staff; the lightning rod with the human skull.

"What happened to that staff, Petraak? It seemed to inspire something in the goblins, whether it was fear or courage. And if I'm not mistaken it was very magical. I think we should hold on to it, for our own benefit, you know. Show it to some goblins that want to attack us. They'll think twice if they see that we killed some of their brethern."

Ula sat on the forest floor looking up into the trees. Leaves and branches seemed to interlace among one another forming an organic lattice. She breathed deeply the night air and sighed. They had not been long in this wood before meeting with some of its more hostile denizens. It worried her greatly. She was fey, a creature of the wild herself and alone she would be able to pass through any woodland unnoticed by all but the trees. Ula was not alone, she looked down from the skies to gaze at her companions. If they were to travel together she would have to learn to be more wary of the wild places, a thing she was not accustomed to.

The strumming of a guitar pulled her attention to Jonathan, the young human bard. She smiled at him reassuringly, the boy had shone her some measure of attention back at the inn and she had decided to entertain his affections for a time. That would offer her some amusement, a thing no faery could deny herself. He stopped strumming abruptly and addressed the dragonborn knight.

"What happened to that staff, Petraak? It seemed to inspire something in the goblins, whether it was fear or courage. And if I'm not mistaken it was very magical. I think we should hold on to it, for our own benefit, you know. Show it to some goblins that want to attack us. They'll think twice if they see that we killed some of their brethern."

She watched him as they spoke and shook her head. Hobgoblins were a violent breed and combined with their usual stupidity they could easily incite themselves into a frenzy. If that skulled staff belonged to any of their number the sight of it would likely send them into a bloodthirsty fury.

"The sight of that staff might well send the mongrels into a violent rage rather than deterring them," Ula interjected in a cool seductive voice. "But I agree, we should hold onto it. Perhaps it can provide us with some information."

She watched the two men for a moment waiting for a response, but from the corner of her eye she noticed the gnome, Iwik, scurrying about. He was an odd little creature and she cocked her head from side to side to watch him with curious eyes. After a time she returned her gaze to the others studying each of their faces.

Hearing the sounds of battle beyond the stand of brush the Hobs were hiding behind, and then someone singing, of all the foolish things to do during a fight, Serrena made her way towards the fighting, but as she stepped around a tree the sounds of fighting and singing stopped.

Gliding into the glade was a tall catoid, tall as in 6+ feet; for the knowledgeable, a Felani. As she had not taken the time to pull up her tunic jacket, she was bare to the waist, showing that her was definitely female, and and furred. Her cat coloring was that of the fabled snow leopard, having a dove gray body with dark gray leopard spots, though the belly area was more whitish and lacking spots. Her face was more human than cat, her ears were almost elven, except there were long hairs tufting the point of those ears. There were simple sandals on her feet, laced up over the lower legs of her baggy pants.

In her hands was a simple staff of darkwood bound on each end with metal, one end was shiny and bright the, other end was bound with some dark metal. She look about the scene of carnage holding her staff ready for battle and seening that the Hobs and Worgs were all dead she grounded the dark end of the staff,

"Rrrrats!" she excalimed, "Therrre arrre no morrre forrr me."

Petraak mused about the staff for a moment before answering his comrades. Nothing in the ancient teachings he studied said anything about goblin magi wielding staves of such power. It was certainly out of place, but the Felwood was known for being a strange place, and unwelcoming to travelers. This much they had seen, but still...something nagged at him, something still wasn't right, and his senses hardly failed him.

"You are both right. We should keep the staff, but handle it with care. Who knows what else we may run into in these woods. From what I've seen, the goblin mage didn't know it's true power, and if its owner doesn't know, we should definitely be careful with it. At least it may give us an edge in finding the temple, or protecting us on the way there."

He picked up the staff and handed it to Ula.

"You are the most at home with the magic of the forest. Therefore, we entrust this to your keeping. I trust you'll guard it well."

He gave her the traditional salute, fist over his breast and turned back to the fire. He began the ritual of cleaning and sharpening his blade for the next battle when he sensed something moving into the glade.

"Rrrrats! Therrre arrre no morrre forrr me."
He drew his sword and swung around to face the newcomer.

"Who are you and what business have you with us? You seem to mention the goblins, but clearly you are not one of them."

He lowered his sword in peace and took stock of the new arrival.

"You are Felani, thus you have traveled a long way to this forest. If you mean us no harm, you're welcome to sit with us, perchance even join us on our quest. Perhaps you know something of a temple...Sunryad? Have you heard of it in your travels?"

“Who are you and what business have you with us? You seem to mention the goblins, but, clearly you are not one of them."

He lowered his sword in peace and took stock of the new arrival.

"You are Felani, thus you have traveled a long way to this forest. If you mean us no harm, you're welcome to sit with us, perchance even join us on our quest. Perhaps you know something of a temple...Sunryad? Have you heard of it in your travels?"

After the warrior's quick set of questions without a pause for her to answer; Serrena had a unique opportunity to reply in kind. She cocked her head and the light danced in her slitted golden eyes.

“Serrrena—none—of course—yes—yes—thank you—maybe—purrrhaps—no.

Her lips lifted in a smile revealing her more pronounced canines, though the Felani called the felines; it was foolish to name the fangs after dogs.

Then a soft rumble filled her chest, as she hunkered down, sitting, but not really sitting on her heals with her tetsubo grounded beside her.

The dragonborn smiled at this answer, unexpected though it was. She was obviously quick-witted, and would be a welcome addition to the team.

"Either way, you are welcome here, and as long as you are, you are among friends."

He introduced everyone else, leaving them to further the introductions as they saw fit.

Yawning, he said, "Alright, everyone, we begin again at daybreak. The wizard's map says we must head north along this path. Just in case, I'll keep watch through the night, in case there is any other creature that would make our path more difficult."

He picked up his sword, holstered it, clean and sharp, as was his mind at the moment, and began to watch the darkness of Felwood as evening became night, and night became dark, as there were clouds covering the moon that night. At least, he hoped it was clouds, as dark beings were known to inhabit the Felwood. None of them particularly friendly.

The night was uneventful, and everyone seemed to have slept well, as the dragonborn began to clean up the campsite. They would travel North toward Sunryad this day. Toward whatever destiny had in store for them.

Again, the path, unbeknownst to them, closed behind them as they moved forward along it, something obviously directing them toward the temple, afraid, somehow, that they would get lost. Or perhaps directing them toward a trap.

The morning was cool, and the sun had just begun its slow rise into the skies, peeking calmly through the thick layer of trees as they set out. They moved more carefully this time, knowing that there were unfriendly things in the woods.

It was about midday when there began to be something watching them, but none noticed yet. It followed them silently, peeking around trees, through the branches, along the ground, always silent, not revealing its intentions yet. However, the group had just settled down to their midday meal when they heard the beating of great wings above them, like a great wind. The trees moved beneath the great force of the wings, and dust was flung into the air around them. Whatever was watching them was gone as the creature came down in front of them, sleekly and powerfully.

It was a young Green Dragon, and Petraak knew about dragons. One such as this would likely be a guardian of the forest, but so young, and so near the edge. He warned the group not to attack just yet, as he spoke the Draconic tongue to the dragon, in hopes it might be peaceful.

"Great one, we mean thee no harm, if thou would do us the same honor."
The dragon snarled and spoke in a forceful voice that was strangely beyond its years.

"Who art thou that invades my forest? I am Kuraat, guardian of Felwood, as my father was before me. Art thou Dryad, who seeks to destroy my kind? You seem a knight, and knights have been sworn enemies of mine in the past. Speak, sir knight, and I would warn you, if you speak not the truth, you will die this day."
"My name is Petraak Dragonborn, Knight of the Red Dawn, keeper of the lore of my people. I bear you no ill will, nor do any of us. We simply seek a temple in your forest, to claim a treasure there."
"Thou seek Sunryad? Long has it been since any sought such a place. The Temple of the Forest Dragons, it was once called. Now it has fallen into ruin, thanks to the evils of the Dryad. They claim everything in the forest as their own, regardless of the rightful master of this place. Regardless, the last to seek Sunryad was of great evil. A necromancer, he sought to turn my own father into a great Lich to do his bidding. I was able to defeat him, however, but I fear he will return one day, stronger, and I will not be so lucky. But, if thou art indeed a Dragonborn, and Friend of the Peaceful Dragons, I will grant you safe passage, but know this, Knight, there is evil in this place. I see from the staff you reclaimed that you have already met some of it, and won. I will not be able to protect you here anymore, the Dryad have outnumbered me, and my power is useless against them. Take care and heed my words.
The dragon then abruptly took flight again, heading north, possibly toward the Temple itself. So, it was a great burial ground for the dragons that guarded the forest. This boded well for a seeker for Draconic lore, but what interest would the old magician have in such a place.

As they settled down again for their repast, something began watching them again from the trees, but kept its distance for now. Petraak posed the question that he'd been turning over in his mind, after he had translated what the Dragon had said for the others' benefit, "What interest would the old man have in a burial ground for dragons? What treasure could possibly be hidden there?"