Gameplay - Dangerous Prisoner

Nar, overhearing Kelvin's musings, replies,"I'm sure if you had a complete disregard for safety and sentient life, you would make a fine demon summoner! And I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of one of those killer firebolts..."

Grok gently (for a half orc) picks up the Old Man and carries him out into the street. Checking that he's ok he strides up to a horse, and sets the Old Man down into the saddle. As he does, he hears Baroril's request, and comes over.

"No worries. Grok get you up notime."

Grok picks up the dwarf by the armpits, raises him over the horse, and slides him into the saddle.

"Grok happy to help, sarge." Grok's face scrounges up into a frown, then looks to the dwarven cleric for answers. "Erhm. Da'? What 'em call yous priest again?"

Even as the last piece of tack and harness are still being buckled up, Jhishma swings into the stirrups of the provided horse and calls out, "Mount up, friends! We ride for the tower!"

The paladin sets his horse to a gallop down the dusty street and gratefully quaffs a couple of healing potions - the only preparation he has time to make for what lies ahead, in the face of the dire urgency described by the Old Man.

The old sorcerer hands Kelvin a scroll tube. "I'm not much use if we run into trouble. Take this and use it if need arises. It's not much but it's all I have."To Grok, he says "Thank you, young man."

Now mounted, the party rides out to the cheers of the townsfolk, while others attend to the sombre task of carrying the five or six dead townsfolk out of the tavern and street.

The basement jailor also waves you off from the door of the jail. He seems tired, probably from dragging the cultists back into their cells.

The ride only takes a few minutes by fallinggalloping horse, even the cart and draft horses you were lent.

You see the tower before you get there, peaking above the rooflines of the smaller stores and homes near the river.

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Please note if you're using any healing potions during the ride. They''ll each cure wounds equal to 2d4+2 hp.

As they approach the tower, Nar looks around for any sign of the escapees or their horses.

He quietly askes the old man, "Sir, where can your wife be found? How can we most quickly bring you to her so we can defend her, and you can wake her?"

He pauses for half a second and then asks, "But before we rush in blindly, please explain further about your wife, her power, this trance, and why the cultists are so obsessed with her that they make a bee line to her immediately after escaping? If I just left jail, I can think of a dozen things I'd like to do before making a social call"

On the way, Old Man Sydell explains that he is merely a sorcerer, while his wife Helge is a wizard, and studies much about the outer planes. Many years ago, she fought in a secret war against a cult of demon worshippers, and captured many of their most powerful fel treasures. Some she destroyed, others resisted all attempts at destruction. These she kept, safely guarded in her arcane tower.

She is currently in a state of profound meditation, and could not be woken except by certain arcane means. While she isn't in immediate physical danger, but she could be captured by determined foes, and would be in danger when she woke.

Lastly, to Nar's direct question, he states: "Maybe they had plans that were interrupted by being incarcerated. All I know for certain from Helge's stories, is that sometimes summoning rituals can only be performed at certain times of the year. Their timing may be not of their choosing."

As you ride up to the tower, you notice that there are three horses, two of which are unsaddled and blowing hard. They aren't tied up, they're just loose, nibbling on some ornamental bushes. The sharper eyed among you see that the door is a bit crooked, as if it were just leaning in place.

Troublesome noises come from within.

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If you're going to enter, let me know your order, and roll some initiatives.

Nar leaps from his horse, asking, "Are there any magical defenses we should know about?". After getting his answer, he moves to the side of the door to peek in.

Grok leaps down from his horse, and goes up to Old Man Sydell. "Grok help you down?" He then lifts the venerable sorcerer, and puts him down gently before taking his place at Nar's right side.

He takes out his greataxe, grins at Nar. "Grok got ye'r back, bro. Grok ready for blood!"

Jhishma dismounts and stands a pace behind the halforcs. Feet planted wide. Greataxe held at the ready in a warrior's grip. The paladin motions for the others to take cautious but readied positions behind him.

He looks to Nar making his assessment, peering through the crack in the door. The dragonborn gives him a nod and whispers, "I'm ready on your signal."

"I think I'll let the burly gentlemen take the lead"

Baroril stands beside Grok, his trusty warhammer in hand, a look of grim determination on his face.

"Hopefully not too much of our own blood, my friend. My healing magics are spent, I'm afraid."

The front door of the tower is leaning crookedly in place. Peaking through the cracks, a dagger comes flying out at Nar, but not before he sees that two of the prisoners are inside. The main floor is round, about 30 feet in diameter, and has a small table and 2 chairs near a central, spiral staircase up to the second floor. The outer edge of the room seems to be filled entirely with shelves and counterspace - it appears to be a combination of a den, kitchen, and general living area.

Gilchan Abidal is in the room, along with the woman (whose name is Nahaarifa) who just threw the dagger.

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The dagger was a prepared action. Initiative starts with Nar, then Gilchan and Nahaarifa, then everyone else (inluding Nar), then G+N, etc.

Just before he rushes in to attack, Nar shouts the bare bones of a plan to the group, "One is must be up the stairs -- I'll lead interference on these two!"

He bursts through the door (leaving it wide open for friendly firebolts) and attacks the woman who is clearly the superior warrior. Remembering at the last second that the cult is comprised of wayward sons and daughters of this town, he opts for non-lethal damage.

She just ducks out of the way, the maul brushing her clothing.

She turns with the movement and gracefully steps inside Nar's reach, both fists hammering at his ribs.

Gilchan sneers at Nar and flings his hand out. A ghostly hand wraps around Nar's throat. (Nar takes 6 damage.)

Grok charges into the room after Nar, going straight for Gilchan. "You gonna hurt now!" Grok raises his axe and recklessly attacks Abidal with full force.