Chapter 1: Willowdark, a Village Repressed

Xaar goes charging out into the wood, greataxe in hand. As you get about 30 feet into the dark timbers, you see six figures moving about, with blades drawn!


Jean - ?
Thorolf - ?
If no actions are taken by this time tomorrow, I will bot your action.

Rixon, as you back away, the sentries stalk back to their posts. You don't see much other than what you've seen so far.
As you move around them, you see them track you during your progress, however, they don't follow you at all if you go around a corner of the camp.

Make a Medicine check, please.

Thorolf's arrow streaks into the wood, skittering off the side of a tree.

As Rixon sneaks around the guards, he notices one major thing odd: they aren't breathing.

As you inspect Kaio, you find him to be stable, but unconscious. You manage to get him out without anyone else noticing.

The pair of you take your rest, recovering what hit points you can Kaio. You feel substantially better. The camp seems to still be calm, as you observe it. You've seen no markings of other people and the stoic guards haven't moved from their positions since they returned.

You've not seen the lone figure from earlier.

Jean draws his rapier and follows Xaar into the woods.
The interlopers scan the threats and split into two groups of three, each going after the leading melee folks.

Three swing at Xaar, and three at Jean.

The first two miss their swings at the barbarian, but the last makes solid contact, dealing 4 damage (2 if you are raging, which I think you said you would if you saw something).

The first two step to Jean and execute a strange looking maneuver that sees them both dart past your defenses and slice along your ribs, dealing 9 damage. The third tries a leaping chop with his scimitar, only to miss like a fool.


PCs may act.

Thorolf's arrow sails wide once more.

As your rest finishes and you sit plotting, you see movement in the camp! The tents begin to rustle, as if people inside were getting up and getting ready. After a minute or two, you see two people emerge from each of the tents around the border of the camp. They seem to be dressed for quiet and fast movement. You spot leather armor and a variety of sword types strapped on their backs. It's a mix of humans, elves, and dwarves. From the command tent, you see a man in flowing robes with a heavy chain and a gnarled stick step out beside some kind of uniformed dwarf, with a large hammer in a sheath on his back. A dim light streaks out from the gnarled stick and hovers in the middle of the camp. From the five fancier tents, three elves and two humans emerge, in a variety of garb. One of the elves is wearing what looks like a heavy robe and has a longsword on his hip. The other four are in studded leather with a pair of scimitars on their backs.

The five sentries turn as one and head to the middle of the camp, kneeling in front of the pair from the command tent.

After a few minutes more, they begin breaking down the tents, dead silent in their actions. Both of you are familiar enough with general military and field actions to know that this group is not a group of pushovers.

As of right now, you sit some 60 feet from the furthest point the sentries had taken.