7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Miguel ached in many places. He drew the wand they had received from Tiressia and activated it. A glow from the tip of the stick replenished his energy and soothed his wounds, but only barely (+3hp Miguel). He frowned and examined the tip of the wand, then shook it off and tried again. This time the results were much more satisfactory (+9hp Miguel).

Behind him his friends struggled to lift the heavy portcullis. He glanced around the overgrown courtyard. For the home of a crazy dangerous evil fey, it seemed awefully quiet. There was virtually no way anyone could have missed the sound of the gate crashing down unless maybe they were deaf. Perhaps no one was home. Or maybe they were all just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike...

The bard shook such paranoid thoughts from his head and went to help with the portcullis. The third time proved to be the charm, and they managed to hold up the gate long enough for Giles and Zeran to slip under. After they got a small boulder to stick under the gate. It wasn't much, but it would give them a foot or two clearance—just enough to slip under if they needed to make an emergency escape.

After that was done, Frodrick told Stefan to take the wagon deeper into the forest and wait there for the party's return. The last thing they needed was their transportation being sabotaged while they were away. Stefan started to protest, but Frodrick was not going to drag any squire of his into a situation he wasn't sure of himself.

Finally, Frodrick led Jargon around the south wall of the keep, then gently coaxed her over the rubble and into the keep. He groaned on seeing all the overgrowth and decided to remain mounted. He would be little use in a fight if he could hardly move.

He caught up with the others as they made a full circle of the courtyard. The southwest tower was little more than a heap of rubble choking out the hollow shell remaining. It might be worth having a poke around in there later to see if anything of value was buried under the debris, but for now there were other things to take care of.

The northwest tower, on the other hand, was the most complete, not counting the central tower. Even moreso on this tower than the others, long brown, leafy vines virtually covered the white stone. Tied up in the vines like grisly decorations, the party could see bleached humanoid skulls hanging from the tower's upper reaches.

At ground level the closed wooden door was covered by a cloak of hanging vines. Unlike the door on the southeast tower, this one, though covered in moss, was clearly beautifully carved and visibly ancient—the only door lucky enough to have survived the passage of time from the original, it seemed.

The central tower meanwhile opened from both sides into a wide chamber. Compared to the outside, the floor of this chamber suffered very little overgrowth. Rather the floor was tiled with some sort of pattern, though obscured in placed by dirt. Inside this chamber, visible from outside, was a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor.

Frodrick 48/48 -
Jargon 34/34 - Mount
Giles 36/36 - 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 45/45 -
Miguel 25/33 - 18 arrows
Zeran 36/36 - 30 bullets

(That makes 5 towers scoped out but not yet entered or explored. For a quick rundown, clockwise starting at the top left we have NW—Vine+Skull Tower, NE—Doorless/Roofless Tower, SE—Crude Door Tower, SW—Ruined Tower, Central Tower.)

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Giles eyed the gatehouse over the portcullis. He could see no way to get up to it, but eyeballing the stonework of the wall (with its copious hanging vines for support), he figured he might have a chance of it. He sheathed his sword. "I'm going to get the gate open. Who's coming with me?"

Miguel sheathed his sword and rolled his shoulders. "It's been a while since I've had a good chance to do some climbing." The other three stayed at ground level, backs to the wall, keeping watch in case the keep's inhabitants happened to show up.

The two men scaled the ancient wall the 15' up to the battlements. At the top they drew their swords again and cautiously moved toward the gatehouse. Nothing jumped out of them as they entered. Giles Climb 17+2 = 19; Miguel Climb Take 10 = 16; Success.
The small room was rather empty and abandoned looking, like everything else. Creeping and climbing vines had invaded here through the open doors the same as the rest of the keep. Giles approached the large, heavy chain which responsible for raising and lowering the portcullis.

Here Giles found the other half of the vine that Kyrie and Miguel had stepped on below. It was carefully tied to the locking mechanism on the winch, so that when disturbed, it would release the gate to the call of gravity. Giles removed the vine while Miguel stood guard at the door they had entered. With the vine out of the way, he grabbed the heavy crank and began raising the portcullis.

Outside the party watched the heavy bars of the portcullis raise in stages until it reached the top. Now they could escape out the front door without worry about the trap again, if they needed to make a quick getaway. Then Giles' voice rose from inside the gate house, rolling off such a profusion of curses that the others assumed he must have been a sailor at one point. Miguel's voice followed a second later. "Quickling!"

Inside, the moment Giles finished bringing up the gate, he realized he had dropped his guard. There was a manic giggle from directly behind him, as if coming from some child with a psychotic sense of humour and a sudden, stabbing pain in his lower back (-9dmg Giles). He cursed mentally and vocally at the same time as he whirled about, already feeling the effects of whatever poison was on that blade (Poisoned -1Con).

He barely dodged the small creature's second trust up at his gut (-11dmg Giles 16/36). He saw what looked like an oversized sewing needle, scaled up to just over a foot long, and a greyish black blur leaving the gatehouse through the door opposite Miguel at an incredible speed. "Ha-ha! Too slow!"

Miguel's eyes popped. While he didn't get any better of a look at the creature than Giles, it wasn't hard to pick from the list of creatures he knew that moved so fast their bodies literally blurred with magic. "Quickling!"

Giles could feel the blood still running down his back (Bleed -2dmg Giles). He needed something to close up one or two of these wounds, fast. He popped his potion back as he moved for the door (+7hp Giles 21/36). He redrew his cold iron long sword. "Look alive! We've got company! It's small, fast, and uses poison!" For a second he felt like blacking out, but he shook it off and the feeling passed (Poison Resisted).

Miguel was right behind him, drawing Tiressia's wand as he moved. Already it was proving highly useful (+9hp Giles 30/36) (23 charges). "It's a small fey. Its magic makes it hard to see when it's moving and invisible when it's not!" He looked around the courtyard. The place was literally full of hiding places. The quickling could be hiding in any bush or behind any tree.

Frodrick 48/48 -
Jargon 34/34 - Mount
Giles 30/36 - Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 45/45 -
Miguel 25/33 - 18 arrows
Zeran 36/36 - 30 bullets

Quickling: ???

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
The crew on the ground scanned the courtyard. The bushes and trees betrayed no hint of a miniature maniacal fey. Zeran shuffled foward, peering around, waiting for something to shoot. He glanced into the doorless (NE) tower next to him. There was nothing there but rubble from the collapsed roof.

Kyrie put her sickle away. If it made its advantage by moving fast, whatever it was, she would try to put a stop to that.

Giles made a weighted decision to get off the high ground and out of the open as soon as possible. He jumped down from the wall and landed with a roll (-1dmg, -2sub Giles Prone). He quickly got back to his feet, a defensive wall of Kyrie and Frodrick blocking the creature from getting to him.
Acrobatics 8+1=9
Frodrick held his axe ready. From atop Jargon he had the widest reach of anyone. He waited for the thing to appear so he could intercept whoever it chose to come after next.

Miguel dropped from the roof next, slightly more graceful than Giles (-4sub). He sheathed his wand and charged his sword with arcane energy.
Acrobatics 10+9=19
Coming from inside the tower, Zeran though he heard the faintest scrabbling noises of something moving inside.

Frodrick 48/48 - Ready
Jargon 34/34 - Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 45/45 - Ready
Miguel 25/33 (4) - 18 arrows
Zeran 36/36 - Ready, 30 bullets

Quickling: ???

A small, high-pitched voice suddenly sprung up from somewhere in the keep. "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Rigg Gargadilly, and I will be your murderer tonight." It sounded like it was coming from just inside the large central tower.

Frodrick grunted. "That din' sound right..." he said.

Giles nodded. "It wasn't real. Must have been an illusion of some kind. He's throwing his voice."

Frodrick 48/48 - Ready
Jargon 34/34 - Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 45/45 - Ready
Miguel 25/33 (4) - 18 arrows
Zeran 36/36 - Ready, 30 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: ???

(You cannot see into the central tower from here, but you do know the lack of vegetation and undergrowth in there would hamper your manoeuvrability less. Unfortunately it would also do the same for him. At the same time, the lack of foliage would mean he has nothing to hide behind, but you can probably bet that he's fast enough to dart in and out regardless.)

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Knowing that the voice coming from the central tower was a fake, Zeran became suspicious of the sounds of movement coming from the tower next to him. He crept through the open doorway and scanned the rubble-filled room for signs of stealthy blighters.

The top of the tower was open to the elements, with every floor above rotted away into the heap of rubble at his feet. There didn't seem to be anyone or anything in here except—wait. A small brownish body popped from under the rubble. Then another. Then three more. His heart sank.

Less than a moment later the floor was covered in a dense swarm of over five hundred rats and Zeran was backpeddling. "Oh s***, rats! Help!" If there was one thing he knew from living in the River Kingdoms, it was that you don't stand in the way of a swarm of hungry rats.

He fled the room, cursing to himself. "If you're going to die, it won't be eaten alive by rats."

Kyrie moved to meet him. She had a hunch that this was exactly the kind of distraction that would have an enemy flying out of the shadows.

Giles followed Kyrie, keeping his sword at the ready. Rather than aiming to come to Zeran's aid, he aimed to keep the biggest wall in the area between him and that little monster, and hopefully get a swing at it if it showed its face again.

Frodrick turned Jargon toward the swarm of rats nipping at her hooves. She reared up and stomped at least a fair dozen flat with each hoof (-4dmg, -5dmg Rat Swarm Injured). That might learn them. He guided his mare around to cover Zeran's other flank, in case the monster struck from the other direction.

Miguel moved to intercept the rat swarm. If things turned ugly, he could pull out a little trick to blow most of them all away, but he didn't want to spend all his energy on the little fights. He hacked at the pile of writhing bodies with his sword (-5dmg Rat Swarm Badly Wounded). Between he and Jargon, the numbers of rats were depleting quickly.

The high-pitched voice returned, just inches behind Zeran's head. "Whateverblowsyourhairback!" Zeran turned his head in confusion and alarm. Frodrick saw the greyish black blur coming from around the south side of the central tower, but not soon enough to warn the gunslinger.

Zeran caught a half-second glance of a small grey man, shorter than a halfling, flying through the air at him. He flinched, but not fast enough to get out of its way. It landed boots first on his chest, and sprung off, blurring away to the south some twenty feet.

Immediately after Zeran realized he felt ill, the effects of a neat stab between where his leather cuirass met the shoulder pad (-20dmg *crit* Zeran 16/36) (-1Con Poisoned).

The pint-sized creature turned and taunted. "Nah-nah, you can't catch me!"

Frodrick 48/48 -
Jargon 34/34 - Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Ready, Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 45/45 - Ready
Miguel 25/33 (4) - 18 arrows
Zeran 16/36 - Hauling Ass, Poisoned, Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 30 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Uninjured
Rat Swarm: Large, contiguous mass, Badly Wounded
Rat Swarm: Lots of rats, In Tower

(You know what's actually hilarious? The fact that it rolled a critical only gave it about 3 extra damage. All the rest of that came from a sweet sneak attack roll.)

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Zeran clutched his shoulder with his free hand (Bleed -2dmg Zeran), stamping through the bushes to get near Kyrie. The faintness passed within a few moments (Poison Resisted). He sailed a choice finger gesture at the small grey fey and pointed his pistol. In the moment between when he pulled the trigger and the bullet struck the dense vegetation, Rigg danced aside with inhuman speed and reflex. "Hah! Missed me, you gigantic oaf!"

Zeran grunted, but payed no mind to it. He was busy trying to stop the bleeding. He pressed the still smoking-hot barrel of his pistol to his wound. There was a hiss, and he winced from the hot metal on tender flesh, but it did the job (Bleed End).

Now that Kyrie finally had eyes on target, she brought down the power of her aegis. Rather than go chasing after him through the bushes and ivy, she simply moved to join Zeran, standing between the two. It was a simple dare—did the fey think he could move fast enough to go all the way around without getting caught, or did he risk getting within arm's reach of her for a quick getaway?

Giles ran in to add his own challenge to Kyrie's, only his was rather more pointed. He stepped up beside Zeran and thrust his blade down at the fey before he had a chance to disappear again. Rigg bent over backwards at an impossible angle as the blade passed directly over him (-5dmg Rigg) "Whoathatwasclose."

On the other front, the wave of rats flowed from the northeastern tower like a busted granary. The swarm spread wide, the forepart going after Miguel, the latter moving in on Jargon's legs. Miguel hacked at the rats around his feet (-5dmg Rat Swarm). The remaining quantity of brown furry bodies had dwindled, and suddenly those who still lived found their natural timidity overcoming their swarming behaviour (Dispersed).

They scattered and dispersed away from Miguel, most toward the corners of walls, but several joined with their cousins swarming Jargon. The mare stomped, and Frodrick leaned over and swept his axe through the body of rodents swarming up her legs (-8dmg, -5dmg Rat Swarm). They chewed and nibbled at her armour and all the weak points between (-6dmg Jargon). She bucked and kicked, unable to shake them (Distracted).

Frodrick swung at the rats, trying to throw them off Jargon. This plan clearly wasn't working, so he spurred her into moving away from the swarm, filling out the widening flank Zeran was attracting. Most of the rats hanging off his horse fell away back into the swarm, or dropped individual and scattered along the way.

Miguel charged his sword with energy and swung his sword through the largest mass of rodents (-3dmg Rat Swarm). This group, too, began to dissolve and scatter. All told there were still a total probably well over a hundred rats left alive in the area of the fort, but they had lost any sense of cohesion (Dispersed). Miguel quickly turned to join back up with the body of the party.

Rigg Gargadilly looked up at the tallfolk closing in on him, grinned, then suddenly faded from sight. His disembodied voice echoed in the air between them. "Man, I have seen some suckers in my day, but you guys are a riot!"

Frodrick almost didn't catch it, but he saw the faintest of grey streaks shoot away from the bushes a second later, cleaving close to the curve of the central tower's outer wall and zipping out of sight around the south of it.

The voice came again from the inside of the tower. "You! Who dares to bring the Iron into the the Lady's domain! I'm coming for you next!"

Frodrick 48/48 - B
Jargon 28/34 - B, Distracted, Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - B, Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 45/45 - Bastion, Ready
Miguel 25/33 (4) - B, 18 arrows
Zeran 14/36 - -1G, B, Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 29 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Barely Injured, Stealthed
Rat Swarm: Dispersed
Rat Swarm: Dispersed

(In case you were wondering what I did with the initiative order, I simply divided the two mostly unrelated parts of this round into two sections, one for the quickling, one for the rat swarm.)

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Zeran reloaded while Kyrie moved to place herself between Giles and any attacker coming from the south. Miguel rounded out the wall while drawing his wand. It was Zeran's turn for a dose (+5hp Zeran 19/36) (22 charges).

Giles called out. "You like my sword, do you? Come, then. I'll give you a closer look."

Frodrick's keen eyes saw the faint blur of motion returning. "Here he comes! Everyone ready!" (+Challenge). Instead of coming after Giles, he saw the blur blink straight toward Kyrie.

"Changed my mind!" the quickling shouted.

Before Kyrie had time to react, she felt a weight collide with her shield.

"Eh? You got lucky, girlie!" The quickling flipped backward off the shield. Zeran reacted first and put a hole into the dirt next to the fey. Kyrie lunged to grap a hold of the small fey. He danced under her grasp and thrust at her leg armour (-2dmg Kyrie).

"Not that lucky! You want a piece of ol' Rigg, you gotta try harder than that!" The poison on the blade messed with her head, but passed in a moment (Poison Resisted).

The quickling whooped and sped away the same way he had come, back out of sight around the tower.

Frodrick 48/48 - Challenge, B, Ready,
Jargon 28/34 - B, Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - B, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 43/45 - Bastion, Ready
Miguel 25/33 (4) - B, 18 arrows
Zeran 19/36 - -1G, B, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 28 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Barely Injured, Stealthed

(Okay, when I say all we have to do is wait for him to get cocky, I should probably clarify that I mean, we're waiting for his perfectly justified hubris to bite him in the backside. Also, note for Zeran as a reminder, every missed piece of ammunition has a chance of being recovered whole. Just the powder is lost still.)

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Giles took a chance. As soon as Rigg vanished, he dropped his guard. Judging from the time between each of the quickling's attacks, he should have just enough time to chant a spell to be ready for when he returned. He murmured the spellcasting mantra, calling up the black, crackling energy of void into his hand. He held the energy and waited for his next shot at the little blighter.

Miguel also took the opportunity to cast a spell. He stepped over to Kyrie, singing a spell to imbue her with battle morale that would give her an extra edge when trying to get a hold of the quickling.

Zeran reloaded and scanned. Miss it once shame on you. Miss it twice, shame on me. Miss it three times... actually he was pretty sure this situation didn't really apply here.

Kyrie saw everyone else preparing their enhancements, and took the idea to do the same. She concentrated on the power of the light within her and let it shine. She began glowing again, bathing the front half of the courtyard with morale raising light.

The quickling's voice came from inside the tower again. "You guys are really eating up my poison. I'm going to have to go harvesting after this. Tell me, which one of you has the worst reaction to blue whinnis so my last few doses don't go to waste!"

Miguel rolled his eyes. "The dwarf. Definitely try the dwarf next."

Frodrick 48/48 - Challenge, B, PF, Ready,
Jargon 28/34 - B, PF, Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Protection, Holding Charge, B, PF, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 43/45 - -1 LoH, Bastion, Power of Faith (1/10), Heroism (1/400)
Miguel 25/33 (4) - B, PF, 18 arrows
Zeran 19/36 - -1G, B, PF, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con, 28 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Barely Injured, Stealthed

Everyone braced for the quickling's next attack. There was no telling where he might appear.

A sudden pitter-patter of tiny crazy-ass feet came from the south. Rigg was getting cocky and less careful about sneaking up. Miguel saw the grey blur moving in on him and jerked back out of reflex. It was nigh impossible to avoid the quickling's blade, but he took a scratch rather than a lethal needle plunged into something tender (-1dmg Miguel) (-1Con Poisoned) (no Bleed).

Rigg hopped away. "Shucks, I—whoa!" Miguel's sword near cut off one of Rigg's floppy antennae (-4dmg Rigg).

"Now there's no need to be sore about i—" A familiar crack of powder cut him off and Rigg only narrowly dodged the bullet in part by it deflecting off his supernaturally fey-tough body (-5dmg Rigg).

"Fine! Have it your way!" The quickling sped away. Miguel tried to take the opportunity to get another swing in, but his sword cut through the tail-end of the blurry grey blotch. In the meantime, he was getting nauseated.

The quickling was still within sight, evidently having taken a long shot to get around Kyrie to get to Miguel.

Frodrick 48/48 - Challenge, B, PF, Ready,
Jargon 28/34 - B, PF, Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Protection, Holding Charge, B, PF, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 43/45 - -1 LoH, Bastion, Power of Faith (2/10), Heroism (2/400), Ready
Miguel 24/33 (4) - B, PF, Poisoned, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows
Zeran 19/36 - -1G, B, PF, Ability Damage -1Con, 27 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Barely Injured, Visble.

(As a reminder for all the buffs active here. Challenge = +2 competence to attack for allies (+4dmg for Frodrick), Protection +1 AC for Giles, Heroism +2 morale to attack, saves, skills for Kyrie, Power of Faith +1 morale to attack, damage, AC, saves vs. fear.)

Spells:
Miguel 0/1
Giles 0/1

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Giles knew it would be hopeless to try to chase the quickling down, but if he could keep eyes on him, he'd have to work to take cover and duck out of sight. He strafed wide, holding the crackling black energy to be released at just the right moment.

For someone on two legs, the quickling was a near impossible target, but mounted on four, for Jargon and Frodrick, it was merely improbable. Frodrick crowed and spurred Jargon toward Rigg Gargadilly. He harassed the quickling with a swing from his axe, more to keep the pressure on than to be a threat.

Kyrie kept pace just behind. She had virtually no manoeuvrability, but so long as she stood, the murderous little fey was going to have to deal with her if he wanted to hurt anyone else, and when he did, sooner or later she would get a hold of him.

Miguel and Zeran kept up with Kyrie, Zeran reloading his pistol, grinning from his success in making the quickling angry. Miguel on the other hand was only feeling worse (-1Con, -1Fort, -4maxhp 20/29). Miguel looked to Zeran. "Did he say blue whinnis?"
Knowledge (nature) 16+7=23
"I may or may not be about to go unconscious in the next five seconds. Just so you know."

Rigg Gargadilly cackled and turned to flee. Frodrick leaned sideways off his saddle and boosted the small fey on his way with an axe blade right where the good gods split 'im (-3dmg Rigg). As the greyish blur sped away, Frodrick thought he noticed the slightest wobble in its path (Injured).

Frodrick 48/48 - Challenge, B, PF
Jargon 28/34 - B, PF, Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Protection, Holding Charge, B, PF, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 43/45 - -1 LoH, Bastion, Power of Faith (2/10), Heroism (2/400), Ready
Miguel 20/29 (4) - B, PF, Poisoned, Ability Damage -2Con (-1Fort, -4maxhp), 18 arrows
Zeran 19/36 - -1G, B, PF, Ability Damage -1Con, 27 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Injured, Concealed

(By the way, in case anyone was wondering what was up with Jargon's attacks/lack thereof, I'm just not including any attacks that miss. There are only so many ways to describe a horse rearing up and kicking/biting every round, so if I can limit that to the times when she hits with those limbs, it gives them more significance. Not that you need to imagine Jargon repeatedly missing every time she does nothing in a round—sometimes she just doesn't have the ability to make more than one attack, sometimes she's busy.)

Spells:
Miguel 0/1
Giles 0/1

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Giles stepped out into the quickling's path, scanning the bushes for any sign of it. He'd leave taking care of Miguel to those not currently holding a writhing concentration of void in their left hand.

Frodrick waited and watched Miguel. If the lad fainted, horseback would be the fastest and safest way out. As Giles moved forward to intercept the quickling, Kyrie moved for Miguel, just in case it ran around him and came for the weakened member.

Miguel grabbed his head and tried to spend his possible last few minutes of consciousness wisely. He concentrated and cast a spell on himself that would reinvigorate his spirit, and hopefully with it, his body.

The quickling's voice sounded as thrown by whatever voice masking magic he was using. "Five little monkeys, jumping on the bed."

He moved to get between Frodrick and Kyrie and waited as the edges of his vision grew darker. The nausea was beginning to pass. Maybe he was going to throw off its effects after all?

Kyrie and Frodrick watched Miguel go from swaying to collapsing (Miguel Unconscious) (Poison End). "All right, lads and lass. Time we cleared out. Strategic retreat!" Frodrick bellowed.

The dwarf threw his shield over his shoulder and rode around to the side of Miguel. "I need somebody to lift him up. Don't forget his sword!"

Rigg's taunt continued "One fell off and bumped his head."

Zeran moved wide, waiting to get a shot at the fey to make sure it didn't think about chasing them.

"Four little monkeys jumping on the bed—"

Giles blinked and almost missed the grey blur. He tensed. He was not going to get this lucky twice. He struck out with his fingers right as Rigg leapt through the air at him.

"Aiaiaiai! Bad touch!" The quickling spasmed and fell to the ground (-12dmg Rigg Bloodied). The speedster landed on his feet, but couldn't regain his momentum to attack. He needed to catch his breath (Staggered).

He sped away half-heartedly. Giles swiped at him, slashing a shallow wound across his upper back (-4dmg Rigg). The quickling didn't have the speed to stopping by the south entrance to the central tower.

Zeran fired but aimed too wide, now too used to shooting wildly ahead of the greyish humanoid blur.

Frodrick 48/48 - Challenge, B, PF
Jargon 28/34 - B, PF, Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Protection, Holding Charge, B, PF, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 43/45 - -1 LoH, Bastion, Power of Faith (3/10), Heroism, Ready
Miguel 20/29 (4) - Unconscious, B, Heroism (1/400), Ability Damage -2Con (-1Fort, -4maxhp), 18 arrows
Zeran 19/36 - -1G, B, PF, Ability Damage -1Con, 26 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Injured, Bloodied, Staggered (1/1),

(Wow, you got him. All those buffs turned out to be good for something after all.)

Spells:
Miguel: 0/2
Giles: 0/1

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Kyrie bent over and scooped up the limp body of Baron Miguel. She tried not to smack anything vital off her shield as she hefted him up mostly one-handed onto Jargon's back. Frodrick responded immediately by spurring Jargon into action. He braced Miguel's body with his free hand and steered with his knees toward the gate.

The evacuation pony was passing under the portcullis as Giles moved in on Rigg. He would buy the others a few extra moments to escape, if he could, and at least make sure the murderous fey remembered them if he couldn't. He swung down on Rigg's head, but the quickling was already recovering. He dodged easily.

Zeran reloaded, sticking next to Kyrie. He knew where to be for the best chances of surviving, and he knew he might get another shot at Rigg if he was just patient.

Rigg shook himself off. "How about no?" He darted away from Giles faster than he could react. Instead of fleeing back around the curvature of the tower, he turned straight for the south wall with its massive breech. Without even breaking stride he leapt and sailed over the debris and rubble clogging the gap and vanished outside the keep.

Less than a moment later he reappeared crawling over the top of the wall to the east, then vanish into the gatehouse.

Frodrick 48/48 - Challenge
Jargon 28/34 - Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Protection, PF, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 43/45 - -1 LoH, Bastion, Power of Faith (4/10), Heroism Miguel 20/29 (4) - Unconscious, Heroism (1/400), Ability Damage -2Con (-1Fort, -4maxhp), 18 arrows
Zeran 19/36 - -1G, B, PF, Ability Damage -1Con, 26 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Injured, Bloodied

(Haha, that movement speed is really something when you're not trying to negotiate around one move one attack and devoting it all to speed.)

Spells:
Miguel 0/2
Giles 0/1

7 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Frodrick and his cargo rode clear of the fort before the quickling had a chance to trap or crush them with the portcullis. They were gone into the woods within a moment.

Kyrie laid her hand on Zeran's wounded, bloody shoulder, and willed his wounds to close with positive energy (+11hp Zeran 30/36). Giles met up with them and the three made for the south wall. The portcullis gate was marginally closer, but with the quickling in the gatehouse they didn't dare try for it.

True to expectation, a second later the heavy portcullis dropped loose and slammed down. There was no sign of Rigg yet, but the three kept their guards up.

A moment later, as they cross half the way to the south wall, Rigg's disembodied voice came up. "I should have dealt with this from the beginning. Bah!" There was a sudden high-pitched keening in the air around Giles' sword. His blade rattled alarmingly in his hand, as if it were about to tear itself apart from the sonic vibration. After a second the sound died away and nothing happened.

"Confound you all, you execrable creatures! Git! Get out! Shoo!"

The three needed no convincing, though they took care not too present an easy target on their way out. They left to the tune of a myriad of curses and threats what the quickling woul do to them if they ever returned.

Frodrick 48/48 - Challenge Ended
Jargon 28/34 - Mount
Giles 29/36 (2) - Protection End, Ready, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 43/45 - -2 LoH, Bastion, Power of Faith (4-10/10), Heroism (Still going on like 2 min / 40)
Miguel 20/29 (4) - Unconscious, Heroism (1/400), Ability Damage -2Con (-1Fort, -4maxhp), 18 arrows
Zeran 30/36 - -1G, B, Ability Damage -1Con, 26 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Injured, Bloodied

()

Spells:
Miguel 0/2
Giles 0/1

Oh, btw, +300XP for surviving the portcullis trap. That should bring us to exactly 15,000 -- also known as Level 5

7 Lamashan - evening
Outside Ancient Keep; H1
Southern Narlmarches
The evening was a heavy one. It was one of defeat. It was one of wounds. It was one of reflection. In the past year the group had experienced little in the ways of defeat, and after the event at the keep Frodrick was worried that perhaps the group might enter one of dismay. In his time, many a young soldier had ride off into combat expecting glory and honour, and many were torn down by the fact that they were not always "the chosen one". In his years many bands would break apart not from the enemy in a major defeat, but rather the demolished morale from a minor setback.

Frodrick kept quite this evening: he did not wish to rattle the youngins' any more than they already were, and he was certain that he would not help the issue at all - he knew he had a hard time getting his point across in a positive manner. He figured it would be better to keep silent.

Instead he tended to his axe with a whetstone. He was sharpening his weapon while doing the same with his mind. He meditated on the past few days: the dryad, the satyr, the scythe tree. As he meditated, something clicked. The ways that he had been looking into since the victory of the staglord started to make sense. The trees, wind, rocks, water. The dwarf did not know how it all came to be one big picture, but it did. Putting his axe down, he called Stefan over and the two walked outside the camp.

"Boy, I have decided on somethin'. I can't quite explain it, but I will not be wearin' no metal from here on out. Since you have been taking care of me armour for the past little while: I will give you first dibs on it. Probably won't fit properly on ya at first, but when we get back we can get fixed right up good as new. Just don't mind the geezer dwarf smell and it will be just fine fer you."

---

That morning as the sun rose and the moon faded from the violet sky, Frodrick stood up and nudged Kyrie. Whispering, he requested her shovel to dig a hole. She nodded stating "Well, that is what it is made for." And rolled over to sleep once more. Frodrick nodded, took the tool in hand, and woke Stefan up to take over the morning watch.

A little ways away from the camp, Frodo lurched down and started to feel the earth on his bare palm. Nodding, the old dwarf started to use the shovel, heaving load after load of soft erath to one side or the other. Once the whole was of sufficient size, Frodrick knelt down and started to whisper. It was in his mother tongue, and was a kind of prayer - requesting that the water flow from the earth to his well so that he might be protected.

After a few repeats of the prayer, a small trickle of water started to seep into the hole. As he continued to repeat this prayer, more and more water started to find its way to his location and soon the hole was completely filled.

Frodrick then started to take some of the loose dirt that he had unearthed and threw it along with some gravel into the well and then using a stick he swirled it around until the water was a dark brown and the gravel swirled about freely.

Giving a nod of approval, Frodrick returned to camp. When they were about ready to depart back to the keep for a rematch, he would return and do the ritual over again and then create a breastplate of armor from freezing the water.

8 Lamashan
Hex H1 - Camp Away From Keep
South Narlmarches
The next day the party quietly made their preparations for a second strike. The first time they had been caught off-guard and under-prepared for the resistance they met. This time they would take no such chances. Kyrie packed her first-aid supplies while Frodrick meditated and Zeran cleaned his pistol.

With luck, Rigg Gargadilly wouldn't have had time since yesterday to recover quite as well as they had. Once again leaving Stefan (and Frodrick's scale armour) with the wagon, they set out to see what they could do about the fey's attitude. There wasn't room in this Greenbelt for two self-proclaimed rulers.

Before they approached, Frodrick took an extra moment aside. He closed his eyes and reached out into the natural world with his thoughts. He called out to the native spirits of water and earth, chanting in dwarven. With a gentle glow from his hand, a shallow puddle of water suddenly sprung up out of the earth around his boots.

Frodrick carried on until he was satisfied there was enough conjured water for his purposes. The dwarf threw a handful of dirt into the puddle to muddy up the clear water with suspended silt, then finally prepared to cast his next spell.

This time he called on the water and the power of the cold north wind that was even now preparing to change the season to winter. The water reacted to the transmutation, flowing up Frodrick's body and freezing into the shape of a breastplate around his torso. The muddy ice was cool, but not uncomfortable. Frodrick rapped against it with his knuckles, checking its durability, then nodded, satisfied.

8 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Approaching the keep the second time was no different from the first. The portcullis had been raised again, and there was no sign of habitation, though by now the party knew better. Frodrick scanned the gate, but couldn't tell if it had been rigged again.

While they drew their weapons to make sure they were prepared, Zeran announced his presence. "Hey, fairy boots! You failed!"

There was no response for a moment, then suddenly the air directly above the party filled with high-pitched giggling. "Hehehe, so you're back already? And here I thought you'd remember that thrashing I gave you for at least a week!"

Zeran called back to the unseen fey, "We've fought tougher kobolds than your tiny ass!"

Kyrie looked at the thick bushes and weeds. If they could keep the monster distracted for several minutes, she could probably cut a clearing... but chances were it would attack as soon as it had them trapped inside again. Instead she turned lead around south, the others following behind her.

"So are you saying you've been routinely bested by kobolds, too? How embarrassing!" Rigg responded, still unseen. The voice followed over their heads, presumably as the quickling sped along the wall.

"Won't that make it all the more embarrassing when you lose?" Zeran called back as Kyrie stepped through the rubble-choked breach in the south wall.

"Big talk from the loser!" The quickling shouted. "I bet you wouldn't be so brave if you didn't have... this!" There was an ear-splitting ring like yesterday. Giles' cold iron sword rattled again, but once more he suppressed the magic with his will.

The fey cussed like a sailor. "You can't stay lucky forever, mark my words!" Though his voice came from a vague point in the air between the breach, the party spotted the grey head of the quickling atop the wall, leaning over the crumbled section. Before any of them could react, he zipped out of sight.

Frodrick 58/58 - Ice Armour (15-20min/1h)
Jargon 42/42 - Mount
Giles 42/42 - 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 55/55 -
Miguel 41/41 - Ability Damage -1Con (no effect), 18 arrows
Zeran 42/42 - 26 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: ???, Stealthed

(You can't yet tell at this point whether Rigg has managed to heal up with magic as well as you have, or if he's still hurting after yesterday's battle.)

Spells:
Frodrick: Ice Armour,
Giles 0/0
Miguel 0/0

8 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Giles strafed out of the way of the breech, holding his sword at the ready. Frodrick rode up in front of Miguel to cover the bard from further poisonous attacks. They scanned the walls and the courtyard, preparing for signs of movement.

Miguel sung the incantation for an impairing spell he learned recently. An glowing purple squiggle of magic appeared in his left hand, twitching erratically. Kyrie shifted to keep a wide guard out.

Zeran with his loaded gun and itchy trigger finger primed, called out. "Hey, Miguel, what's grey, annoying, and has no balls?"

The quickling's voice came from the air, "You once I'm done with you!" Zeran was hit from behind with sudden force. The quickling stabbed its poisoned needle into his kidney, pricking him through his armour (-15dmg Zeran 27/42 Bleed). Zeran's head whirled (Poisoned -1Con) but he spun and fired as the quickling retreated.

His shot ricocheted off a piece of stone rubble and the quickling hopped away, laughing. Zeran snorted and pressed the hot barrel to his wound immediately, cauterizing it before it had a chance to bleed him dry (End Bleed).

Kyrie wasn't fast enough to spare Zeran, but as soon as she locked eyes on the malicious fey, she called down divine retribution. It fled out of the keep through the breech in the wall, it would not be getting through her wall of power so easily.

Frodrick 58/58 - Ice Armour, B
Jargon 42/42 - Mount, B
Giles 42/42 - B, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 55/55 - Bastion of Good
Miguel 41/41 - Holding Charge, B, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows
Zeran 27/42 - B, Poisoned, Ability Damage -1Con, 25 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Looked a bit Haggard still, Stealthed

(Guess what, I remembered the anti-bleed effect. Also the glimpse you got of Rigg showed that he seemed worn down still, an not quite back to full health.)

Spells:
Frodrick: Ice Armour,
Giles 0/0
Miguel 1/0

8 Lamashan
Ancient Keep; H1
South Narlmarches
Giles rolled his sword wrist, watching for his target. If the quickling was going to try to avoid this blade, he had other options. He waited for the next time the bugger showed his face.

Kyrie returned to Zeran. He didn't look like he was having a good reaction to the poison. She dropped her sickle to dense undergrowth, then loosed the shield off her arm, dropping that next to the first. She grabbed the healer's kit from her belt and prepared to treat him before the fey speedster came back.

Zeran wasn't doing so well in the meantime. His head spun while he reloaded (-1Con Zeran [-5maxhp, -1Fort] 22/37).

"Man, you losers are just too predictable." Rigg called. Once again his voice came from an invisible point in the air above them, projected with his magic.

Frodrick 58/58 - Ice Armour, B
Jargon 42/42 - Mount, B
Giles 42/42 - B, 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 55/55 - Bastion of Good
Miguel 41/41 - Holding Charge, B, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows
Zeran 22/37 - B, Poisoned, Ability Damage -2Con (-5maxhp, -1Fort), 26 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: ???, Stealthed

"Says the guy who uses the same tactic for every attack." Giles called back. He only needed the fey to provide a target.

Kyrie worked quickly to treat Zeran's poisoned wound. When she was done she was satisfied with her work. "Good luck," she told Zeran, and slid her shield back onto her arm.
Heal check 13 + 9 + *2* = 24
"I can't help it that you guys have such a crippling weakness to my poison that I just have to reapply it after every hit."

Zeran's head continued spinning. At the worst, he didn't want to pass out before he got one more shot at the fey.

Not a moment off schedule, Frodrick saw the quickling's tell-tale grey shimmering blur beeline straight for Miguel. He saw at once that there was no way he would throw the quickling's aim at this speed, so he did the only other thing he could. Frodrick leaned over Miguel off his horse until he was practically out of the saddle and put himself in front of the blow.

"Huh?" The miniature fey landed needle first on Frodrick, confused (-8dmg Frodrick, Bleed). "Hey that's not fair, that was my last shot of poison! That wasn't for you, you big hairy oaf!" (Poison Resisted)

In the moment Rigg was distracted, Miguel struck with the spell he had been saving. He merely touched the quickling and the erratic purple effect disappeared into his body. His body tried to resist the transmutation that was now wreaking havoc on his motor skills (-3Dex Rigg (-1pen attk, AC, Ref, CMD)).

"You bloody—"

Giles finished the spell he had prepared to cast. A ghostly long sword appeared in the air next to the quickling, thin and sharp, and tapered oddly like the nib of a calligraphy pen. Without a second's hesitation it snapped at the quickling with an elegant thrust that the fey struggled to avoid (-5dmg Rigg). Already he was wearing down again, still worn down from yesterday's fight.

Zeran steadied himself. His nausea was beginning to clear (Poison Resisted). He fired on the quickling before it had time to get worse. The small fey spun from the force of the bullet grazing his shoulder (-4dmg Rigg Injured, Bloodied).

"All right! Swiv the lot o' ya with a rusty bloody nail for all I care!" The quickling's face was discoloured dark grey with rage. Rigg sped away, but the greyish blurred trail zigzagged erratically Miguel's spell conspired to destroy his coordination. The quickling took the corner too sharp and they saw him trip out of sight behind the wall (Prone?).

Frodrick 50/58 - Ice Armour, B, Bleed -2
Jargon 42/42 - Mount, B
Giles 42/42 - B, Spiritual Weapon (1/5), 18 arrows, 20 bolts
Kyrie 55/55 - Bastion of Good
Miguel 41/41 - B, Ability Damage -1Con, 18 arrows
Zeran 22/37 - B, Ability Damage -2Con (-5maxhp, -1Fort), 25 bullets

Rigg Gargadilly: Injured, Bloodied, Touch of Gracelessness (1/5) -3Dex (-1pen attk, AC, Ref, CMD), Probably Prone

(This round seriously did not go well for the quickling. Seriously. Initiative order is shuffled again due to a bunch of ready actions, but the important deets is that the square you believe Rigg to be prone in is about 15' from Zeran, and close enough that nearly anyone could double move to it, but only Zeran could single move.)

Spells:
Frodrick: Ice Armour,
Giles 0/1
Miguel 1/0