Fartooth’s Attack (S4): 1d20+31 = 47 (Hit)

Damage: 1d6+11 = 14 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON

Fartooth’s Attack (WP): 1d20+31 = 37 (Miss)

Fartooth’s Attack (WP): 1d20+26 = 32 (Miss)

Fartooth’s Attack (WP): 1d20+21 = 34 (Miss)

Fartooth unleashed another flurry of arrows, returning his focus to the soldier he’d started with, wounding him again. As before, his psychic arrows cut more than just flesh, as evidenced by the soldier staggering under the single blow that pierced his armor. “Drop the other before you go. I’ll take care of this one.”

Melinda’s Concentration check: 1d20+35 = 51 (Success)

S3’s Fort Save (Word of Changing): 1d20+5 = 17 (Fail)

S4’s AoO (Melinda): 1d20+35 = 39 (Fail)

Hearing Siora’s cry and Fartooth’s words, I breathed deeply, and turned the soldier he mentioned into a harmless animal (a toad, this time). Ducking under a flailing blade from the wounded soldier before me, I moved to the beguiler’s side. “Clear away the man standing over her, so I can work.”

S4’s Attack (Fartooth): 1d20+35 = 46 (Hit)

Damage: 1d6+16 = 17 (Slashing)

Flaming: 1d6 = 5 (Fire)

Frost: 1d6 = 6 (Cold)

S4’s Attack (Fartooth): 1d20+30 = 38 (Miss)

S4’s Attack (Fartooth): 1d20+25 = 30 (Miss)

S4’s Attack (Fartooth): 1d20+20 = 24 (Miss)

The soldier I bypassed stepped forward, and slashed at Fartooth, cutting the kobold once in revenge for the wound he’d just taken. Fartooth barely dodged the second stroke, but managed the other two far more easily. The soldier, seeing his comrades frozen in place, snarled, “You may kill us, but Silverwood will never fall!”

Ebonheart’s Coup de Grace (S6): 2d8+36 = 43 (Piercing)

Vile: 1 (Vile)

S6’s Fort Save: 1d20+15 = 16 (Fail) (Dead)

Ebonheart turned his gaze upon the soldier standing over Vestele’s body. “Time to die!” With a vicious glee, the black unicorn ducked his head, and then impaled the paralyzed and helpless soldier with his horn, driving up, under his jaw, and driving his horn up into the soldier’s skull, lifting him from the ground, before tossing his head to the side and casting the dead soldier’s corpse to the ground.

Siora’s Coup de Grace (S5): 2d6+14 = 25 (Piercing)

S5’s Fort Save: 1d20+5 = 10 (Fail) (Dead)

Siora turned to the other soldier in reach of both me and her, and said, “You heard the lady. It is time to clear you away, so she can help my sister.” And then, with cruel grace, she thrust her rapier into the soldier’s eye, making him watch as the wicked blade slowly pushed forward and into his brain, ending his life.

Fartooth’s Attack (S4): 1d20+31 = 45 (Hit)

Damage: 1d6+11 = 14 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON

Fartooth’s Attack (WP): 1d20+31 = 34 (Miss)

Fartooth’s Attack (WP): 1d20+26 = 40 (Hit)

Damage: 1d6+11 = 13 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON

Fartooth’s Attack (WP): 1d20+21 = 40 (Hit)

Damage: 1d6+11 = 15 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON

Fartooth stepped back and launched another fusillade of psychic arrows at the soldier he’d been whittling down. The soldier’s wounds were catching up to him now, and he looked as though he were barely hanging on. The little kobold just laughed, and said, “If you’re the best they have, then perhaps Silverwood deserves to fall.”

Melinda’s Cure Moderate Wounds (Vestele): 2d8+3 = 11 (Healing)

Ignoring the lone active soldier, for the moment, I reached into my bag, and pulled out a wand. Siora was right, of course. I always kept a bit of healing magic on me, if only because I was allergic to dying. I’d tried it once, and it wasn’t my thing. Touching the wand to Vestele’s body, I said the command word, and was greeted by the joyous sight of Vestele gasping for breath as she came to.

Ebonheart’s Coup de Grace (S8): 2d8+36 = 48 (Piercing)

Vile: 1 (Vile)

S6’s Fort Save: 1d20+15 = 31 (Fail) (Dead)

Seeing that, Ebonheart turned towards the last of the frozen soldiers, with casual ease, he impaled the soldier’s throat, ripping it out with his horn, before casting the dead soldier down to the ground with his fellows. Then, he trotted past Fartooth, and up to the final soldier. “Death comes for you! Glory to Garagos for this slaughter!”

S4’s Will Save (Mass Whelm): 1d20+10 = 14 (Fail)

Whelm: 10d6 = 28 (Nonlethal) (Unconscious)

Siora waved a hand, and magic pulsed from her body. The final soldier dropped to the ground, unconscious. But the beguiler didn’t care. She simply turned to her sister, and knelt by her side, helping her to a sitting position. “Are you ok?”

Vestele nodded weakly before casting a spell on herself, removing all of her wounds in a single go. “Yes, sister. I saw the halls of our Mistress, but She said that there was still work to be done.”

Fartooth executed the final soldier with a single shot to the skull. “Well, I’m glad you’re back, because we’ve probably got to fight our way through this fortress, now, unless we’re just giving up on this country?”

Your party has defeated 8 Silverwood Elite Soldiers, 1 Silverwood Elite Warmage, and 1 Silverwood Elite Warpriest!

Melinda gains 17280 xp.

Ebonheart gains 15552 xp.

Siora gains 17280 xp.

Vestele gains 17280 xp.

Fartooth gains 17280 xp.

Loot:

Silverwood Elite Warrior's Plate x8

Restful Crystal x9

Silverwood Protector's Shield x8

Greater Crystal of Arrow Deflection x9

Silverwood Protector's Blade x8

Greater Truedeath Crystal x8

Silverwood Protector's Spear x8

Greater Fiendslayer Crystal x9

Silverwood Protector's Bow x8

Lesser Crystal of Electricity Assault x8

Amulet of Natural Armor +2 x8

Ring of Protection +4 x8

Belt of Giant Strength +6 x8

Gloves of Dexterity +2 x8

Efficient Quiver x9

Everlasting Rations x9

Replenishing Skin x9

540 Arrows

162 Javelins

Ioun Stone, Pale Green Prism x9

Potion of Cure Serious Wounds x9

Silverwood Warmage Armor

Silverwood Warmage Shield

Silverwood Warmage Blade

Ring of the Defender

Ring of Invisibility

Amulet of Natural Armor +4

Boots of Striding and Springing

Silver Snowflake-shaped Shuriken (worth 50 gp)

Silverwood Warpriest's Plate

Silverwood Warpriest's Shield

Silverwood Warpriest's Spear

Greater Fiendslayer Crystal

Silverwood Warpriest's Crossbow

Lesser Crystal of Electricity Assault

Ring of Protection +5

Periapt of Wisdom +6

Gloves of Dexterity +2

Holy Symbol, Silver

Looking through the gear, I quickly discovered that every one of our foes had been wearing mithril armor, and carrying mithril shields. That was… impressive, to say the least. The expense alone, not counting the cost of enchantments, meant that these were elite troops.

Still, we were in the middle of what was now an enemy fortress. I decided to skip looking into the properties of the items we looted until later, and passed around some of the potions. Might as well use the elves’ resources before our own.

Melinda’s Potion of Cure Serious Wounds: 3d8+5 = 25

Ebonheart’s Potion of Cure Serious Wounds: 3d8+5 = 18

Ebonheart’s Potion of Cure Serious Wounds: 3d8+5 = 16

Fartooth’s Potion of Cure Serious Wounds: 3d8+5 = 25

Fartooth’s Potion of Cure Serious Wounds: 3d8+5 = 14

Vestele’s Cure Light Wounds (Melinda): 1d8+1 = 8

Vestele’s Cure Light Wounds (Melinda): 1d8+1 = 2

Vestele’s Cure Light Wounds (Ebonheart): 1d8+1 = 6

Vestele’s Cure Light Wounds (Ebonheart): 1d8+1 = 8

Vestele’s Cure Light Wounds (Fartooth): 1d8+1 = 6

Vestele’s Cure Light Wounds (Fartooth): 1d8+1 = 2

By the time we got through with the potions, Vestele was on her feet, and touching each of us in turn. A crystal attached to her shield glowed as she cast the spells. At my upraised eyebrow, she grinned. “It is the basic healing spell, in its weakest form, but, with the crystal’s power, I can use it at will. All I need is time.”

“Speaking of time,” Fartooth chirped, “we should get moving. It has been less than a minute since we started fighting, but we weren’t quiet about it. So, we’re going to have to figure out what the plan is.”

I took a breath. “We go and find the guy in charge, and get him to raise the princess from the dead, on their coin. Then we go and install the woman on the throne, and we can get a bit of a reward. And the elves aren’t too far from Thedra, so they ought to have better information on what is going on than we do now.”

The others nodded. It was the best plan we had right now, and offered the greatest rewards. Walking up to the doors of the building, I threw them open, revealing a small antechamber, with the doors on the other side open wide. On either side of the door, there were two rows of armored statues, no doubt depicting heroes of the elven kingdom, or some such.

Walking into what was clearly the main reception hall, almost like a throne room, I saw that the building was not entirely undefended. Four soldiers were quickly forming a shield wall, closing off the gap between the statues. Behind them, I could see both another warpriest, and a figure dressed in the same armor as the Coronal Guard we fought earlier. And, behind them all, was a man dressed in plate armor, and holding a sword that was entirely too large for an elven frame, like a bastard sword that had been sized for an ogre, but with an elegant curve to the blade (which glowed of pure energy, like souldrinker radiated shadow) that clearly said it was of elven make.

The elven man, who I assumed had to be the leader, snarled once. “You have guts, to charge into my headquarters, and attack my soldiers! Because of that, I will give you two seconds to give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand!”

Stepping in front of the others, I said, simply, and loud enough for all to hear, “Crown Princess Findelye Seharinthe.” The shock that went through the hall was immediate, and visible to even an untrained eye. The leader silenced the muttering with a single word, before turning his gaze back to me.

“Explain yourself, wench.”

Melinda’s Diplomacy Check: 1d20+29 = 45

“We are adventurers, brought together by our chosen deities to seek the truth of the prophecy that has been told throughout the lands. In the port town of Breledo, we met, and sought passage to Thedra, as the signs pointed us that way. In seeking out the signs we were now following, we heard of how the Lord Mayor of Breledo often had ‘special shipments’ from the Thedrans come in at a warehouse he owned by the docks.

“Sensing that this would be an excellent way to gain passage to Thedra without the hassle of any port security that they might normally have, we went to the docks at night, and found that the Lord Mayor, who was a necromancer, was meeting another of his ilk, one of his kin who lived in that sorcerous land. When we fought off their undead and human minions, and both Mayor and Thedran noblewoman lay dead, we claimed the noblewoman’s ship as our prize by right of conquest, and searched the Lord Mayor’s warehouse for any easy valuables.

“What we found there was troubling, to say the least. In a cage, hidden behind crates, was an elven woman, wearing naught but coverings upon her hands and feet, chains to keep her in a position fit only for use in carnal matters, and a collar. An enchanted slave collar, that bound the mind of the wearer, as well as the body, trapping the woman in eternal servitude.”

I could see the leader’s face grow grim, as he began to get the picture I was painting. “Imagine our surprise when we set the woman free, and she proclaimed herself the princess of Silverwood? She asked us to bring her to her homeland, so that she could avenge herself upon the one responsible for her enslavement. This we agreed, in return for aid upon our own quest, once things between her and her betrayer were settled.”

“And yet, before we could even cross the borders, we were attacked by warriors of the Coronal Guard who asked no questions, but charged towards our airship and attacked without provocation! Then, when we made our way to Ah Alora, hoping to get the Princess to meet with the leader of the Army, to see who was still loyal, and who had fallen and joined the betrayer, we were attacked again, on sight, without even a chance to explain ourselves.”

“And, this time, a mage, wearing the armor of Silverwood, snuffed out the life of the Crown Princess of his own land, in the courtyard outside these very doors, not five minutes ago!”

The leader breathed in deeply, and looked first to the warpriest. The priest just shook her head. “I heard no lies in her words, milord.”

He turned to regard the member of the Coronal Guard. The holy warrior stiffened, and said, “It is true that a patrol was badly hurt, losing most of their number upon the border not long ago. I know not of their mission, save that it came from the Queen’s own hand.”

The leader bowed his head, and said, “Then it seems as though there is a great deal to speak of.” He turned and looked at the warpriest, “Get one of the scrolls of resurrection from the vault, so that we can see what the Princess herself has to say.”

Looking back at us, he said, “And you! I see the mark of evil gods upon you all, but none of which are at war with the elven pantheon. Because of this, and your unproven status and unsure loyalties, I cannot offer you lodging in headquarters without a violation of my oaths, but I will send one of my men with you to a nearby inn, where you may rest. We will speak more in the morning, when the light of day gives a better account for things than night’s gloom, and when the princess is with us again.”