Chapter 3 [The Mystery at Longtree]

[michael]

Conversation had died down, the sun was nearing the horizon, and Brion Shaw surveyed their hill. It wasn't the worst camp they could make, all things considered. The high ground offered good visibility, and the grass good cover. No place to tie the horses, though. Having to spend an hour or more the next morning chasing down stray mounts was not an appealing thought, yet there weren't many options. Then, a possible solution occurred. Rather cruel... he thought, but it's doubtful they'll see it as anything less than practical. He gave a light chuckle, and walked towards the warforged.

"Sergeant Sermon, Corporal Crow! A word, if I may. I'm sure you've noticed we have no place to strap our horses for the night. Well, I had a thought. Since the two of you never tire, perhaps you could simply hold your arms straight out, and we'll lash the halters to them. After you've completed repairs, of course."

[OOC: I know that I have foreknowledge of the fate of the horses, but tying up a horse is pretty standard procedure, and I think any group of soldiers would have tried to make sure their mounts couldn't get stolen or wander off in the night. (I'm not talking about 'mystical possession' wandering off, just normal horse wandering off.) If it had come up during the game that there wasn't any place to tie them up, I probably would have tried to find an alternate solution then.]

[reefwood]

As the conversation dies down, the men prepare to rest - tending the horses, stripping off bulky armor, laying down bedrolls. Meanwhile, the warforged continue their repairs that will keep them busy well into the night while they maintain a vigil over the others and the unconscious gnomish prisoner.

The sun has not yet set, and in every direction, all that can be seen are swaying fields of tall grass dotted with rocky hills.


[OOC: The time is 4:30pm, and sleeping in medium or heavy armor leaves you fatigued the next day. It takes 8 hours to rest and repair.]

[reefwood]

The Dead Walk

The early hours of the night passed quietly. The warforged continued to repair their injuries while the others slept. The only disturbance came from the breeze. Even the cricket song was sparse and distant. When trouble finally stirred at midnight, however, it first manifested within the ranks. Without warning, Crow made for Nero's mount, and the other horses grew restless. "We need to leave, Sir. Can't you feel it?," was the closest thing to an explanation that the Corporal gave his Sergeant. Meanwhile, Sir James followed suit, and soon he and the other horses were riding away from the camp. If this wasn't trouble enough, the executed soldiers began to stir. The pallor of death still upon them. Stumbling from wounds taken in the battle and bare chests stained red from the slit in their throats. Crow gave his Sergeant a chance to flee with him. Sermon refused to leave the others. The last words from his Corporal were, "It was an honor serving under you, Sir, but it seems that my service has come to an end."

Sermon was left to square off against the ten enemy soldiers his unit had already bested only hours ago. They approached slowly, and the warforged called out to the others. No response. Instead, moans from the walking dead filled the air. As the daunting battle came to a head, Corporal Shaw finally awoke. Blessings from Gorum helped to even the playing field, and it was not long before the enemy was laid to rest yet again.

Victory was theirs, and the quiet returned, but all was not well. Those still asleep had seemingly fallen prey to the same phenomena reported by Nero. It was decided to wait and see if this would pass, and the others were finally roused at dusk. The next course of action was to search for the deserters. Especially since they may have not left by their own volition The trail went in the direction of Longtree. It was well past dark when the reduced unit arrived. Cautiously, they made their was through the streets until...

A man comes into view up ahead. He lays motionless in the middle of the street. Bare feet point toward the sky and torn scraps of clothing fail to cover much else. This perhaps morbid discovery, however, takes on a more ghastly twist with the realization that his head is missing. A quick scan of the immediate area locates it on the ground several feet away.

Nero recognized the man as Private Shaveus. One of his men who had gone missing in Longtree. In addition to the obvious wound, tiny scrapes were found on his face and hands, and several ribs were broken. Continuing through the village uncovered more corpses with similarly gruesome injuries.

At the far edge of town, shuffling feet and a moan were heard coming from a barn. Those with keener ears also heard distant footsteps approaching rapidly from all directions...

A human rounds the corner. His clothing is tattered and typical of the simple garb worn by soldiers underneath armor. His complexion is sickly & pale and his neck is bent at a gruesome angle.

It was Preston Shaw. One of the corporals who served under Nero. Younger brother to Brion. Now nothing more than a shell of his former self. A lost soul. Brion released his brother from the curse of undeath, but soon a swifter breed of undead was closing in on the unit. Then, the battle grew even more dangerous with the appearance of fierce warrior...

Suddenly, an imposing half-orc bursts through a nearby door. He stands over 6 ft tall with blistered scar tissue visible on what little skin isn't covered up by breastplate. His cloak sways behind him as he lifts a mighty axe in both hands and dashes toward Brion screaming, “DIE MURDERER!!!”

Brion was brought to the brink but was saved by Sir Grolton. Though soon, Brion felt a sharp pain in his back and caught sight of someone through the window behind him...

The rough outline of a figure is barely visible through a small opening in the shutters. Someone either short or squatting for their head sits just above the base of the window.

Sermon went after the skulking menace and found him to be...

A halfling wearing dark studded leather that almost blends into the shadows, and who is holding a little bow with a short blade at his waist.

The halfling was driven off, but by that point, a horde of undead villagers was closing in, and Nero had been cut off from the unit. In the end, Sermon was torn to pieces, and the wizard barely escaped the clutches of a particular foul zombie. Once on the run, the survivors were easily able to out pace their pursuers and regrouped outside of Longtree.

The potential threat they had been sent to asses seemed to be obvious, and pushing on with only half their original force seemed folly. That very night, they began the march back to Verdas. Keeping to the hills to avoid movement on the road. It was not long, however, before all went black, and they collapsed where they stood.

The trio woke up to the setting sun. They had slept through the day but were no better rested for it. Sir Grolton and Corporal Shaw were particularly exhausted from armor weighing them down so long. Nero did not suffer in same way but had broken out in a fever. Also, he recognized the now disturbingly familiar feeling for the fourth time, and Brion had his first taste of it.

They pressed on as the sky grew dim...


[OOC: Feel free to discuss the events from the previous day. I may chime in with anything of note if it comes up. Otherwise, my next main post will include what the gnome said. Nero fell asleep twice in Marching Inland and twice in this one. He is also feeling sick.]

[reefwood]

Darkness washed over the weary soldiers who trudged on with their prisoner. Yet, the land seemed more alive. The cricket song was vibrant and came from every direction. An occasional bark or howl echoed in the distance. Bats passed in front of the moon.

When the hour neared midnight, Nero fell to his knees and emptied what little was in his stomach. It left him noticeably weaker, and sweat began to trickle continuously from his brow. The rest of the night, however, passed without incident.

With the warmth of dawn, stirred the gnome. Harbul Ponkarsh was a sergeant in command of the Chimera division's 5th squad who were tasked with determining what troubled Longtree, and it was not difficult to force his broken spirit to reveal all he knew...

...a handful of villagers from Longtree arrived in Verdas two days ago. They were frightened. A few days prior, they woke up to find that the rest of villagers had vanished. Also strange was the fact that the sun was setting instead of rising. They had slept through an entire day. It was dark by the time everyone still in the village had gathered together. A local hunter noticed the grass outside of the village had been trampled. The path went in the direction of a nearby grove. The hunter led a handful of able-bodied villagers along the path to look for the others. They never returned. The remaining villagers fled to Verdas the next morning.

Unfortunately, the battle on the road broke out before they reached their destination.


[OOC: Nero took 2 points of Con damage just before midnight, which is 24 hours after the zombie battle. If there is anything else you want to know from the gnome, go ahead and ask him. Otherwise, the next post will bring you to Verdas, and then, any reports can be made.]

[reefwood]

By noon, the troupe could push no further. Nero was on the verge of collapse, and the others were not much better off. At least resting during the daytime was less disconcerting than in the darkness. The loss of the warforged, however, meant that a standard, longer watch was required. Each man took their watch alone.

The march to Verdas resumed at midnight. Sir Grolton and Corporal Shaw felt more refreshed than they had in days, but while Nero's wounds were finally on the mend, his overall condition continued to deteriorate. Fever, aches, nausea. All plagued him consistently. The night was long.

They heard the army before it came into view. A distant din of activity. Eventually, the rolling hills gave way to a shallow valley, and the midday sun revealed what it held. Farmland stretched for miles. Or it had at one point. Now the fields were scorched. Ash the only crop. It was not uncommon for landowners to burn their harvests rather than let them fall into enemy hands.

The source of commotion was also revealed. Not as sounds of battle but of preparation. A train of logs - stripped of branches and bark - flowed in at one corner of the valley. Carried on a river of mules and wagons. They stopped a mile outside the city. Where the army had set up a massive encampment. At one end, the felled trees were converted into machines of war - ballistas, battering rams, catapults, siege towers, trebuchets. Nearby was an enormous pit from which stones, up to the height of a halfling, were excavated. The rest of the encampment was covered in tents or areas cleared for soldiers to train and practice formations. The one area shrouded in mystery was at the center. Dim light enveloped several large tents.

Above it all, scouts on winged mounts kept watch. It did not take long for one to spot the trio. A modest squad was immediately dispatched to escort them through the valley, and they were brought in to report their findings...


[OOC: It is noon of Day 15. I purposefully left out details about Verdas. Those will come with the next adventure. The smoke seen at the end of the session came from farmers burning their crops before the invading army entered the valley. Also, Nero took 2 more points of Con damage for a total of 4 points, and it is not healing naturally.

Here are the rewards for survivors of this adventure:
1) Minor wondrous items (1500 gp limit)
2) Potions and/or scrolls (500 gp limit, CL 6)
3) Potion of cure serious wounds (750 gp)
4) 5 days of 3rd-level income pool]