~ Dire Struggle for Dillend: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

Storm yawns as he listens to the conversation. His eyelids are sagging, wanting desparately to fully close and letting him drift into a somber state of sleep...but there are other things to be done, he knows, and the sooner they are solved the quicker his desire for sleep will be met.

Storm responds when Emma asks him about Mazen. He pauses for half a second, then replies "Oh ya, ye weren't with us back then! Ha ha! And ye neither!" He smacks Hanibal across the shoulder in true-to-form Storm fashion.

Hannibal, half asleep and not expecting the blow, does his best to play off his look of surprise while equally attempting not to fall over.

"Well, ya sees..." Storm goes on, briefly telling their story of how Canter was taken in the ambush and how the rest of them hunted down Mazen, culminating in a sneak attack at the barn/manor house complex. His story is filled with inaccuracies, exagerations, and is told in a choppy, out-of-order manner, making it rather hard to actually understand what he was saying. One might wonder if anyone else was thinking 'gee, where is Guilliam when you need him?' Storm does, though, give good attention to the part of the story where the fire was set in the barn, causing a big distraction for the enemy. "If ye's be wantin' somethin' like that again, I's sure me 'n' Hannibal here'd be happy to help! Heh ha! We's be good at the sneakin' around bit." He flashes a toothy, ugly grin, showing bits of food between his teeth.

"Again I'm going to have to agree with my short, toothless, smelly, unclean...uh, sorry Storm." Hannibal winks in the dwarf's direciotn. "Anyway, I think we need to use a large amount of guile and trickery if we are going to pull this off. I'm not a warrior anymore and wouldn't last long in a stand-up fight, trebuchets or no trebuchets."

"Even those who would," Edryd says, "would not last long against this size enemy force."

Then, in response to Emma's idea of affecting the enemy food, Storm chimes in. "Yeah --BURP-- that be soundin' pretty good." His belch is loud and obnoxious, though he doesn't stop to excuse himself. "If ye be needin' some bodyguardin' or help sneakin' in, me's willin' ta help...say, when can we's get some sleep? Me bones be achin'!!"

Hannibal smiles and lets out a quiet chuckle as his stout friend shows off his manners for the Captain. Nudging Storm with an elbow, he mutters under his breath, "Pig."

Cy looks at the priestess in wide-eyed-wonder. Was she totally nuts or is this just a fit of some kind? Heck, the mercenary believes in the powers above, but they don't care much for the small people. Big armies and high priests, yes, but a ragabash group and some soldiers, no.

"No offense to you or Anhur, but that's a bit far fetched... not to mention risky. It will cause a small distraction if not done with the full effect of having all their food poisoned. If you could manage that, good. We might have a chance, but 300 is a lot any way you slice it. We need to have more than a prayer of a chance... I'd be willing to settle with a virgin's chance in the abyss of suceeding!"

Cy goes back to the map, shaking his head in frustration.

Emma looks hard at Cy's profile as he returns to the maps. She knows that he didn't mean to insult her, but somehow his words stung her anyway. What this what her mentor meant when he told her, 'teach them when you can?' Are there those who will never believe in the power of Anhur the way she does? Potent questions, but now was not the time, Emma knows. Instead she, too focuses on the map on the table.

Crayne looks at Wheeler and then back to the group. Pleased at the answer that

Wheeler had given him and the suggestions that the group had made, it was time to put the plan together in a more cohesive whole. Crayne rubs his eyes in a tired manner, yawns and then apologises for his rudeness.

"Well!" he states, bringing the group to his atttention, "It seems we have a number of plans that gleam with promise. What, however, will be crucial is that we implement them at the right moment. We know that the fort is sending out scouting parties in ten. If we could review these patrols to see whether they are scouting in sequence then we could maybe benefit. I am not sure as to what the surrounding landscape of the fort is, but I presume that part of the landscape consists of woodland."

"I remember when we were at Dillend before," Canter interrupts his magical friend, "and the area looked lightly wooded. The fort itself, as best I can recall, is in a fairly open area, but there are patches of trees and woods surrounding it."

Crayne nods to Canter and continues, "Perhaps we could place a despatch of troops within the woods to take care of some of the patrols. Also, I'm presuming that there will be regular supply wagons that enter into the fort. If a couple of these were to be taken over then perhaps some troops could gain entrance into the fort via that means. A charm person spell cast on the doorman would ensure us safe passage into the fort. Thus, it would be my intention to travel with this group. And I would like it if Kel was to be a member.

"Then, there's the secret entrance into the fort. This would be Dire's field. Dire could enter into the fort via this passage with maybe a few more of Rinder's Six. Then me and my despatch of troops could meet them within the fort at a later stage. What also could be accomplished by Dire and his group is an entrance into the kitchen and a kitchen fire could be started. With the distraction of the fire, the prisoners could be set free by myself. Then I feel it would be time to act. Dire could blast down a wall with his fireball spell and then create the monsters that he talked of.

"Once that is accomplished I think the people within the fort could make their escape via the secret exit and join Rinder's forces in an attack on the fort. Obviously, invisibility would play a key part here as well. With a number of the patrols taken out, chaos created within the fort, and the prisoners released, we could begin our attack. I suggest that the archers make the first assault. I presume that we would have a despatch of long bowsmen. Flamed arrows would be good. Then we could wait in the woods nearby for Caerloon to make their advance for that I would presume would be the obvious presumption. Then we could make our attack."

Pausing for a short breath, Crayne looks over to Wheeler. "What will the small army that we take consist of if you do not mind me asking?"

"Of our men, we will have a contingent of archers, a couple of engineers, should we choose to use the makeshift seige engines, plenty of footsoldiers, and the accompanying officers. The footsoldiers will be armed with long swords and armored in chain mail," Wheeler explains.

"Crayne, your plan sounds like it has merit," Dire Luthor says, "but I am concerned. As useful as my fireball and flaming arrows will be, perhaps they are not the best weapons to use in this battle. For once we capture the fort, we will want to re-occupy it. We cannot do that if we have first burned it to the ground."

Wheeler nods. Then Hannibal speaks, "And I'm sure the Knights of Rinder will want that fort back in one piece!"

"Very well," Cy says, bringing the group to order. "Let us do this: Crayne, Kel, Storm, Edryd, and Canter, you five will enter the fort disguised as a supply wagon, after Wheeler's troops dispose of a patrol. Your first objective will be to penetrate the fort without alerting the enemy of your true identity. You must then locate the prisoners and be ready to free them once the distraction is in place.

"At the same time, myself, Dire, Hannibal, and Emma will enter the fort through the secret tunnel, which Wheeler will show us. We will find our way to the kitchen, where you can first call on your god, Emma, to poison the food. Then, once it is eaten, we will set fire to the place, either by Dire's hand or by Hannibal's, as he did in the Caerloon camp.

"The fire will be the signal to free the prisoners." Cy looks into Crayne's eyes, then intop Storm's, Canter's, Edryd's and Kel's. "In the confusion of the fire, we stand a better chance of getting out of there alive and with the greatest number of prisoners. We will no doubt be persued by enemy troops from within the fort. Wheeler, it will be up to your men to cover our escape and ambush the persuing troops. With those soldiers defeated, and with Emma's poison taking effect, a more direct attack on the fort stands a much better chance."

There is a moment of silence and thought as each listens and understands Cy's plan. It seems to make sense, but is also risky. Wheeler is the first to respond. "I will ready my men." The others nod. "We depart tomorrow at dawn."

Hannibal, Storm, and Crayne are the first to get to sleep. They are exhausted from the journey to Lowfield, and know that they must rest before the next battle begins. Canter, too, tries to sleep, but feels uneasy throughout the night, tossing and turning, worrying about the next night's events.

Edryd and Emma offer prayer to Anhur before retiring for the night. The Ritual of Thanks for a safe journey back to Lowfield. The Ritual of Wisdom for guidence in the coming battle. And the Litany of War, calling on Anhur's strength to see them through the next day's tasks.

Cy remains a few extra minutes with Wheeler, discussing the location of the secret tunnel into Dillend. The two warriors seem to get along in spite of the tension upon Rinder's Six's arrival. Wheeler compliments Cy on his plan, piecing together elements and suggestions from everyone into one cohesive plan. Satisfied, Cy retires for the night, knowing that he'll need all the strength he can muster.

At dawn Rinder's Six appears in the center of Fort Lowfield where they once again meet with Captain Wheeler, his bronze plate mail shining in the sun. Wheeler's troops have organized themselves, and about 75 men stand ready to march. About twenty have longbows slung over their shoulders and full quivers on their backs. There are a couple of officers mounted at the front of the orderly lines, and the rest of the footsoldiers stand tall, their swordpoints in the dirt at their feet.

Wheeler nods to Rinder's Six and then turns to his men, "Gentlemen, these are Rinder's Six." A wave of whispers runs through the crowd and smiles dress faces. "And they will be fighting beside us in the battle today. Your officers will instruct you as to the details of the plan of attack. But the odds are against us. We will be fighting an overwhelming force entrenched in one of our own fortifications.

"But we MUST succeed today, men! A victory today could turn the tide of the war. You are here because you are excellent warriors. Rinder's Six will depend on that. I will depend on that. Your King depends on that.

"Let's move out!"

The troops file out of the main gates of the fort in an organized fashion, their officers leading each line. Wheeler mounts his horse and sees to it that the party is mounted as well, on fresh steeds. The day's journey is an uneventful one. As the small army travels west along the border, regular scouts are sent ahead and off to each flank to keep an eye out for Caerloon raiding parties and patrols. None are encountered.

As the sun begins to set, the pace of the army slows. The woods are moderately thick, but Wheeler knows that Dillend is not far away. The golden rays of the setting sun filter through the trees and the cold breeze whips through hair.

One of the scouts returns to the head of the army and reports to Wheeler. "Sir! Two Caerloon patrols have been spotted ahead! One of them is accompanying what looks like a supply wagon from the south, sir!"

"How many men in each patrol?" Ramsen asks.

"Ten with the wagon, six in the other patrol, about three hundred yards ahead of the wagon."

"Very good, soldier, thank you," Wheeler says. "Officers, let us stop here and wait! Keep your men at the ready!"

Edryd then speaks to Wheeler and the rest of the party. "It sounds as if Anhur is smiling down on us this evening. Dire, Storm, Canter, Kel? Are you ready?" The wizard, the thief, the fighter, and the scout nod in reply. Wheeler nods as well. "Then let's go."

"Crayne, I believe our group, too, should get moving," Emma says nervously, looking also to Cy.

"Yes, quite right! Here goes!" Crayne replies with an equally nervous smile. He, Emma, Hannibal, and Cy then work their way through the woods to the spot Wheeler described, the entrance to the tunnel.

Canter, Storm, Edyrd, Dire, and Kel approach the wagon patrol as quietly as they can. Fortunately, the wind is picking up speed and as it brushes through the trees, branches sway loudly and leaves on the ground crackle. They manage to get within about fifteen yards and take a close look at the patrol. A moderately sized wagon drawn by one horse. Two men sit atop the wagon, one driving, the other scribbling in a book. Another sits on the back of the wagon, his legs dangling out the back, a crossbow at his side. The remaining three walk alongside the slowly-moving wagon.

"Okay!" Storm says excitedly, "How we doin' this?!"

"I can cast..." Dire begins to whisper.

"No," Edryd interrupts the mage, "you save your magic for when we really need it!"

Canter looks to Edryd for leadership, "Alright then, Edryd, how do you want to play this one?"

Meanwhile, Crayne, Cy, Hannibal, and Emma find their way to the entrance to the tunnel, about a hundred yards from the position of Wheeler's army. It is on the side of a hill, which is covered in leaves. Hannibal quickly brushes the leaves aside revealing a wooden door with rusting hinges in the side of the hill. With a strong pull Cy swings the door open, revealing a dark, muddy, smelly underground passageway.

Cy looks to Crayne, who quickly brings out his lightstone. Then they descend into the tunnel. Cy leads the way, followed by Emma. Then Crayne, holding the lightstone, and Hannibal takes up the rear, being sure to close the door behind them once inside. The tunnel is narrow, just wide enough for them to walk in a single-file line. Emma winces as she kicks mice and rats aside. And Crayne curses to himself as he wades through a large puddle of muddy water ("these were new boots!").

Soon the tunnel comes to an end in a small circular room, about six feet in diameter. In the center of the room is a wooden ladder leading up to a wooden trap door above. Cy examines the layout of the room in the cool yellow light of Crayne's lightstone when Hannibal suddenly perks up. He points up above and cocks his head, listening to a conversation in the stable above.

"When d'ya think the General'll get here, huh?" the first voice asks.

"Gee, I dunno," another answers. "They say any day now..."

"The General?!" Emma whispers, "do you think they mean Wade?!"

Crayne responds, "I don't know, priestess, but our more immediate concern is, what are we going to do about those two?!"

Upon hearing the reference to the Baron General in the stable above, Emma's thoughts turn toward the Baron General...and then his son, as well. "Robert! He is coming here?" she thinks to herself, "But why here? Why this place? And why now? I thought they intended to sweep further into the country and march upon Merriam." She shakes her head and thinks a bit more clearly, "They must plan on using Fort Dillend as the focus point for moving troops and supplies. We must retake it...and before they arrive, or our assault will be for naught!"

She also worries that Robert the Younger might also become caught up in the tide of battle. Her heart skips a beat as she considers the fact that he might be killed just as easily as the members of Rinder's Six. "Why should I care about that?" she angrily berates herself within her own mind, "He's the enemy...right?"

"Right!" she speaks aloud, partially answering her own question, but also directing the response to Dire, "We have several options as I see it: One, we can let Hannibal sneak into the stable and cause a disturbance that catches the attention of the guards long enough for us to climb up and dispatch them. Two, I could call upon Anhur's aid to silence everything within a fifteen foot radius of my spear, thereby abling all of us to charge up into the stable without making any noise...and silencing the alarms of the guards at the same time. Three, we could make some noise that would cause the guards above to discover the trap door and climb down to investigate, then dispatch them here. Or, four, we could depend upon your own magic, Dire, to provide a solution...perhaps a charm spell so one of the guards will diligently continue to stand duty over our escape route and cover our presence within the fort."

Emma looks to Cy, curious if he intends to ridicule her ideas once more. Her nerves are still on edge from her fear of failure and her inability to put together a plan back in Lowfield. She seems ready to defend her suggestions this time, though, but not so loudly as to attract the attention of the guards above.

"I believe that by combining our powers," Dire says as Emma glance moves from the warrior back to the mage, "we can make an effective entry with the minimum amount of bloodshed. Of course, the bloodshed will follow, but that is not our objective at the moment. Emma, your silence spell can be very effective in this pursuit. I, at the same time, can cast an invisibility spell focused on your spear. Everyone within ten feet of the spear will be invisible. Thus we will be neither heard nor seen."

"Very well, then," Cy says as Hannibal nods.

The spells are cast. "Try to stay close as best you can," Dire warns as his image fades. Soon everyone is invisible--to the outside world and to each other. Emma's voice can be heard in whispers as she casts her spell, but that, too, seems to fade. Then there is darkness and silence.

All eyes turn to the trap door above as it is opened--Hannibal had crawled up the ladder. A second later, Emma can feel a tug on her staff and she leads the others up the old rickety ladder. The stable is fairly large. Thankfully, the trap door lies behind a large bushel of hay, on the other side of which the two guards are still talking.

The first man looks to the second and then announces. "Allright, I be gettin' hungry. I'm goin' for some grub."

"Aye," the other answers, "I be waitin' here."

Emma thinks quickly. If she is going to affect their food, than this "mule" will lead them directly to the place! She looks around behind her, hoping that the others will follow. She tightens her grip on her spear and pushes a little hay out of the way, hoping that it will attract the attention of the others so that they know to follow her.

Fortunately, Cy, Dire, and Hannibal are attentive, and see Emma's signal. They follow the priestess out of the stable and into the darkness outside. Numerous soldiers can be seen meandering around the large square ("parade ground") in the center of the fort. The tall outer wall of the fort, close by, is manned with multiple lookouts and sentries all around. ("Must take note of those," Cy thinks to himself.)

They quickly spot the guard in question and follow him into the square. A couple of yards into his trip, though, two other soldiers stop him, and they appear to talk with him. "Great," Hannibal groans after a moment has passed, "this guy's a social butterfly." Then Hannibal realizes it--his voice is not silent!

"Shh!" Cy responds.

"The silence spell must have worn off as they were talking...it doesn't last forever, you know!" Emma says quietly, trying not attract attention with her voice, though she and the others are still invisible.

Then the guard says goodbye to his friends and continues moving toward the building across the square--the main hall (just like at Lowfield). The group follows him, and tries to dodge the other soldiers as they pass by. The guard follows the edge of the hall around to the back, where a number of tables are set up outside, and the smell of cooking is strong.

"There!" Cy says, pointing (though invisible). "That must be the kitchen."

"Allright, let's do this!" Hannibal says.

The group carefully crosses the set of tables and the soldiers occupying them. A large fire is in the center of the gathering, offering some light and heat to the area. Soon the group approaches the entrance to the kitchen. A large table can be seen inside, with a number of young boys working around it. An entire horse is strung up, slaughtered, hanging from the back wall, waiting to be cooked.

A tall, obeese man comes barrelling into view. "You muts! I want that beef ready in one hour! We've got a hundred more men to feed!" He casts a glance over the heads of the eight boys on the table, where three huge bowls of potatoes sit, steam eminating from them into the air. Some carrots, too, in other bowls, also rest on the table.

"Okay, priestess," Cy whispers, "now's your chance. We ain't waiting for that beef to be ready, so work your magic on thems potatoes!"

----------

Meanwhile...

Storm looks at the men around the wagon and scratches his head. "Eh...I ain't be much good at that strat'gee stuff, but ye just tell me what ta do and I's be doin' it well! An' remember, I be pretty good at the sneakin' 'round bit if ye have a surprise planned. And I can chop me some bad guys straight up, too! Heh heh!" He catches himself as he almost laughs too loud. Storm quietly draws one of his long swords and keeps it at the ready, too.

Crayne looks at the supply wagon as it trundles on by. He looks at the man who appears so indulged in his writings. This would have to be played cool, he thinks to himself. He looks over to Storm who begins to speak up.

"Put that away, Storm! For I do not believe that we'll need that this night."

Crayne then addresses the small group around him, "What if I was to be an important messenger sent to the fort Dillend to deliver a message of great importance on behalf of the great Baron General? The message was to be heard only by the ears of the most senior of command. And should this tale be doubted then what would become of the men who restricted such vital information reaching their superiors? And what if the supply wagon was to find me and my accompaniment up ahead on the road with me struck down by fever. Surely they would believe it there duty to quickly help the victim and escort him along with the wagon to the safety of the fort. I am more than sure that Kel here could persuade these soldiers into believing our tale!" Crayne rises an eyebrow and looks for the groups reactions.

"Should the situation become sticky then I am sure that I have a few spells up my sleve that would help us out along the way!"

"Are you sure we can pull this off, Crayne?" Canter asks, narrowing his eyes. "Kel, what about you?"

Kel straightens his back, "Canter, sir, if Crayne can get them close enough, I can get us in. I'm sure of it!"

Canter looks skeptically at Edryd, who nods solemnly. "Allright," Canter moans. "Let's see what kind of an actor you can be!"

Soon the stage is set. Crayne assumes a position on the ground, comforted by Edryd, while Canter, Storm, and Kel stand around doing their best to look worried. The wagon approaches, and the driver pulls on the reins, shouting "woah, Nelly!"

The three men walking alongside the wagon then approach Crayne and his entourage. "Is there something we can help you with?" the first one asks, short sword at his side.

Crayne opens his mouth to speak, but only a loud cough emerges. The mage's face is all red. Canter almost bursts out into laughter, had he not seen the man emerge from behind the wagon, crossbow at the ready. Canter casts a concerned look at his magical friend.

Crayne sees the look and motions to Kel.

Kel clears his throat and approaches the leading soldier. "Sir, this man is carrying an extremely important message from...from, uh..."

"From the great Baron General Wade III," Canter says, smiling to Kel.

Kel continues nervously, doing his best to approximate the Caerloon accent. "A most important message! But you see his has fallen quite ill, and we are not sure he will make it to the fort. Can you help us?"

The leading soldier looks over Crayne, peering through Edryd's arms at the mage. He then looks at his companions. "Very well. But you will all leave your weapons with me."

Edryd swallows hard, and casts a glance of gloom at Canter. Storm growls. Kel smiles nervously and turns on his heel, looking back to the "sick" Crayne. The look on his face says it all: "What do we do?!"

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