"Good point with the wand."
Bitur hands the wand to Gilraen.
"The helm has used one charge so far since I acquired it. I have a feeling I'm going to be using more."
Bitur will also use another dose of liquid light on his axe.
(Which should leave him with only one dose remaining, or none, depending on if he had to use two doses in the barrows or not, assuming I've been keeping track correctly.)
Deor will indeed fire up his brazier, chanting as he does so and watching as the signs and sigils in his staff begin to glow faintly. He'll adjust all fire spells first for maximum damage, then for maximum area.
Mulligan looks at the brazier and wonders if she has enough time to make some hot food before the oncoming battle.
Rorimac looks to see if he can lay any quick snares around the area. Anything to slow down and confuse the undead, but one hooked up in a snare is one less undead we have to worry about.
It appears the enemy is waiting about a mile away, probably until the sun sets but you cannot be sure. Does the party wait or attempt to flee? The horses have had a rest at least and are looking better though they cannot sustain the rate they went at to get here.
Gilraen believes we should wait as it might be our best chance to destroy Kkósal.
"He wants, or needs, what we have...so, he will come, though apparently at a time of his choosing. Given the state of our steeds, I do not know that we could make Bree before he overtook us - and I do not think I would want to risk having him enter the village. While I would rather fight him in the daylight, I prefer facing him here, where we have a chance to keep a battlefield of our liking."
"I, too, would prefer to stand and fight," Thoroncir says. "Better that than to be caught on the road in open order, less able to meet the attack."
"Waiting outside for nightfall. How terribly obvious." says Mulligan. "How about we go and see what he has bought with him or even sting him into acting a little early if at all possible before sundown if he is waiting so close to us. Gil-Gandel, your voice can certainly provide succour to those who are friends. Could it, perhaps, cause those unfriendly to do something rash."
It is difficult to play upon the emotions of those who are dead, unfortunately.
From his perch in the tree Gil-Gandel sings to the familiar thrumming of his harp:
It is not in the plan the One has made
That death and hate should triumph over love;
We may be sure that he will lend us aid
Through those Great Ones he sent us from above.
The might of Tulkas strengthens all our hands,
The craft of Aule forges all our swords;
Yavanna grants us life throughout the lands
And Manwe's wisdom - wisest of all lords! -
Will teach us all the art we need to know
While Varda's grace - the Kindler of the Stars -
Will guard and guide us from each evil blow.
For vile undeath, the curse that Arda mars,
Offends the blessed Valar's very sight;
Their benison rests on us all this night.
Then the music stops and as Gil-Gandel begins to chant in a different rhythm, he is limned by a weird, uncanny but -- to those of good heart at least -- kindly light:
Vile folk, dead folk, in your Barrows dwelling,
Power is nearby, vast beyond all telling,
Power you cannot chain, power that none can measure,
Old one, Great one - fear his just displeasure!
In your graves waking yet, when you should be sleeping,
Dream of him who has this land safely in his keeping!
Fear him, flee him - you cannot attempt him!
Skulk below in your tombs - Fools, you dare to tempt him?
Oldest, Fatherless, Singer in the starlight,
Strange beyond imagining - can you see a far light?
Old Tom Bombadil, Earth's mightiest creature,
Keeper of secrets dark, and mine own Teacher!
It is no name to take lightly in vain, but Gil-Gandel trusts that his true discipleship will serve as excuse. :)
Thoroncir hearkens to Gil-Gandel's songs, and peers into the gloom.
If he is setting traps up front, Rorimac will take a closer peek at the oncoming enemy to see if he can see anything of note.
"We will make our stand here. I'd rather face my foe from the front than to take an attack from the back."
http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b1...arrowDowns.jpg
Dridoleth casts barkskin on Ceol and everyone other fighter except Bitur who wears plate mail. He casts an additional Plant Growth strengthening the hedge fort and adding more trees.
Deor has his magical Brazier lit and going well. Mulligan had time to make a meal over the well controlled fire. Haladain got two good size fires going within the fort.
When Gil-Gandel songs are done, a few stars shine brightly over the party and his Star Harp glows and twinkles with star light. But nothing else appears to have happened other than some of the darkness and worry is lifted from members of the party.
The wait is long though only an hour. Gil-Gandel and Dridoleth both have Call lightning readied as darkness falls. At one point Wilfrid calls out, “Just attack you foul wraiths and be done with it!”
Finally five dense fog banks approach the camp though none from the north at least. The central one is by far the largest. None can see inside but some fast work with the swords indicate undead within every moving bank.
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Drindoleth lets drop a lightning bolt on the western most fog area, a horrible chorus of shrieks are heard and several ravaged wights come charging out with foully glowing swords.
Gil-Gandel will drop a similar-sized bolt on the next one around (roughly south-west). The biggest fog bank is too large to target very well with Call Lightning, but it might enjoy a Fireball. Then the ravaged wights can have some bow-fire to add to their woes.
"Hold the line. Make them come to us."
Ceol takes a deep breath, and begins to chant a prayer.
Captain Sir Thoroncir, to the right of his good friend Ceol, takes up his gleaming longsword and his strong shield, and prepares for the enemy onslaught.
With a gleam in his eye and a twist of smoke rising from the glowing runes on his staff, Deor cries aloud and unleashes a blast of flame toward the centermost cluster of mist. He'll tweak the fireball's size to ensure that it's large enough to impact the entire fog bank.
Bitur applies the liquid light to his axe and swallows his superheroism potion.
Once the wraiths from the west get into range, Mulligan will start using the sling stones against them
Seeing the oncoming clouds, Rorimac starts lighting the area as brightly as he can with Belethil and takes his superheroism potion as well.
Glinras bellows a tantara of defiance at the vile undead.
Gil-Gandel ‘s Call Lightning causes another disruption and more ravaged smoking wights coming charging out, several with twisted wrecks of weapons.
Deor’s Fireball engulfs the main fog bank and dissipates it completely. Dozens of wights lay charred and dying around a ten foot radius center of total darkness. 3 well armed and armored wights pull into the darkness.
Gilraen makes good use of the the ancient Rod of Kanotir and tosses an extended light spell on the darkness. It reveals in the dim dusky light a tall dark robed figure on a skeletal looking horse with red glowing eyes and a 15 tough looking wights. The wights are all well armed and armored.
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Mulligan lets loose with a pair of Chalcedony stones at one of the ravaged wights from the western group. She hits twice doing 25 and dropping it in midstride.
Everyone else stands ready as the groups continue to close in.
A lightning bolt strikes at Deor and Gilraen … Does Deor try to turn it?
Some extra sense in the recesses of Deor's mind prompts him to look upward, where he sees the formation of a lightning bolt. As the clouds twist and the air charges, Deor plants his feet solidly, thrusts his staff into the air, and cries out his personal Words of Power "For Edoras! For Rohan! For the Rohirrim!" The tip of his staff bursts into an eerie red light, is briefly connected to the clouds by a blinding, jagged bolt of energy, and the lightning bursts out of the staff again, towards...
Personal Word of Power used to enhance turning, naturally.
Deor feels his foe is superior in level and power but he also feels the exhilaration of his word of power and sustained by Gilraen's Song of Estë and Gil-Gandel's blast upon Glinras. He turns the spell just in time and it harmlessly dissipates away.
The parties are now close. Drindoleth bellows I will deal with the party to the East and he heads to cut them off, summons up a circle of fire and changes into a huge bear. Within his circle is Hound to help.
The front line fighters are ready but what do the archers and spellcasters do in this final round before confrontation?
Gil-Gandel will start dropping those smoking wights to ensure they cannot rejoin the fight. Once they're all down, assuming Drindoleth doesn't need any help Gil-Gandel will flame his two swords and Mirror Image himself, then head for the left-hand end of our line and attack the enemy flank, unless (perish the thought!) any of the front line are down, in which case he'll fill in the gap.
Mulligan will continue trying to drop the wights from the far western cloud. She is then likely to climb a tree and provide guidance to those down below.
Deor leans heavily on his staff, points a shaky finger at the easternmost fog bank and gasps out a few short, gutteral words. A Fireball whips outward from his finger.
Thoroncir and Ceol closely watch everything that's happening. They are both more than ready to engage the foe.
Deor's Fireball engulfs the eastern most group as Drindoleth is heading towards it. The fog immediately dissipates into wisps of smoke from the charred ruins of the wights and a few unknown creatures within. Of this group only one wight remains and it looks terribly injured. Drindoleth calls for Gil-Gandel, "Drop the eastern one, I head south." He moves to intercept the southeast group.
Mulligan drops another wight from the western group leaving only 2 injured.
Gil-Gandel sends a pair of +3 Dwarven arrows at the last eastern wight and drops it. He then spins and fires at the southwest group where another pair strike home and leaves only 3 in this group charging the party.
As the undead nearly engage the party's front line, Gilraen sings out, "A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di-nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos!" It has little apparent effect on tall dark robed figure on a skeletal looking horse but it destroys the 3 injured wights and send the other 15 running from the battle. Thoroncir at least cannot help but to give a cheer at this moment.
Cwenhild, Rorimac and Wilfrid move as one to charge the dark figure. Cwenhild suggests, "Drop the beastly horse fist then the rider once it is down." The 3 swords of the paladins hack, Cwenhild's with more finesse but Wilfrid might bastard sword cleaves deeply the strange horse. It appears badly hurt but does not go down until Rorimac stabs it with his Dúnedain Sword and Kkósal bane. 4 times he hits and the horse appears to fall apart under this attack. A great hissing is heard as this happens but the dark figure sweeps out with his own slender sickly glowing long sword and deals Cwenhild a deep cut in her right shoulder, her Holy sword drops from her useless arm and she turns greenish and pale and drops to the ground gurgling in horror.
Thoroncir sees the unexpected turn of events and charges the figure who must be Kkósal their foe. He strikes him a great slash on his right arm and another past his guard into his left leg. Though his war shield did not damage. The second blow from Kkósal takes Thoroncir in the side but Kálthalion is warm on his side and he is neither drained nor paralyzed and resists the poison on the blade at least for now. He stills takes 19 points of damage.
Ceol leaps over the hedge and cuts off the charging injured wights. Bitur is right behind him. The pair run into the group of 4 wights from the southwest and make short work of them. Bitur's glowing Axe in particular cleaved a pair. Ceol rapid sword work took care of the others with Bitur protecting them both with his shield.
The last 2 reach Cwenhild where she lies and run her through to the horror of the party.
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With Kkósal turned on Thoroncir, Rorimac stabs Kkósal who screeches in pain and horror as his sword again bites deep into Thoroncir for another 18 or 37 total damage. This time Thoroncir also fails prey to the immediate effects of the poison and is down another 20 for 57 total.
Gilraen again sends forth the light of the west and 2 wights standing over Cwenhild drop.
Wilfrid and Thoroncir both strike Kkósal repetitively and are quickly joined by Ceol and Bitur. Gil-Gandel sees 2 wights swinging east around Drindoleth and lets flies 5 arrows into these foes dropping one and injuring the next.
Mulligan rushes for Cwenhild and she is far too far gone to administer potions too. She look dead, but maybe she is only just mostly dead.
Kkósal is still up. His swings hits Thoroncir yet again, this time dropping him.
Drindoleth is battling and blocking his group of wights in a battle of flames, fog and smoke and loud growls and howls.
What does Deor do?
Can you change Mulligan's last action from sending two stones against Kkosal to heading for Cwenhild to see if she is alive, and if so, administering a healing potion to her, 6D8+6 + Sweet Water
With the party so closely engaged in combat, Deor can't use his most effective fire spells. He'll move forwards, toward Kkosal but no closer than fifteen feet, so that he can support the party or they can support him if need be. He readies his staff, prepared to counterspell anything Kkosal casts.
Time for Gil-Gandel to Mirror Image himself and flame his two swords, and see if he can help to grant rest eternal to Kkosal. He has nothing to fear from poison, little from fire, and dreads the fell touch of the undead less than do the sons of Men.
Having seen Cwenhild and then Thoroncir going down, Rorimac will go all out to try and take out Kkosal.
Mulligan will head for Thoroncir to see if anything can be done to help him.
The normally-stalwart Ceol is somewhat shaken by the fall of Cwenhild, then Thoroncir. He focuses his probing attacks with his short sword, for its magic is particularly potent against the undead, as he uses his longsword to parry Kkósal's blade.
"Eonwë, guide our blades", he murmurs.
Mulligan sees that Thoroncir is in far better shape. She gets Thoroncir to drink down the sweet water and this alone brings back conscious. The healing potion restores Thoroncir to being down only 23 points.
Gilraen was racing for her love when he sees him sputtering over and awake from Mulligan’s ministrations. She turns sharply to see if she can aid Cwenhild.
There are now 4 Gil-Gandels all with flaming blades. They begin to approach Kkósal.
Rorimac delivers 4 mighty blows on Kkósal as Wilfrid screams in pain from a critical hit to his stomach. He takes 40 points of damage from the deep cut and another 20 from poison and finally loses a level dropping him to only 60 hit points total and so he goes down.
Ceol & Bitur both strike swiftly and true. From the flank, the hitting is easier and true is their aim. A final great cleaving blowing from Bitur sends Kkósal’s head rolling away from his body.
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Drindoleth is still battling a group by himself. Remember he is largely fireproof.
Rorimac follows up by plunging Kkosal's Bane through the chest of the corpse and whatever black heart may lie within. Just to make sure.
Mulligan shouts to Deor, "Fireball by Drindoleth", while pulling out her second Sweet Water potion and administering to Wilfred.
With Kkósal felled, Ceol quickly moves to the fallen Wilfrid, to see if there is any aid he can give to his fellow paladin and Rohirrim.
With Kkosal vanquished, Deor whips around, aims his staff directly at Drindoleth, and lets loose another Fireball.
Thoroncir clambers to his feet. He shakes off the last lingering fear of their terrible foe and the pain of his wounds, and is encouraged by the sight of his true love. Taking up his sword and shield again, he sees that Drindoleth is being adequately supported by others in the party. He decides to move towards Cwenhild, to his right, to render any aid he can.
As he cleaves the head from his foe's body, Bitur then surveys the rest of the battlefield seeing if there's any other aid he can offer and keeping a watch out for any more reinforcements of the enemy's.
Gil-Gandel looks around for any other foes to run down.
With the fireball from Deor it leaves only 2 wights left. One engaged with Drindoleth and one try to flee. Drindoleth is still surrounded by a ring of fire of course.
Gilraen is casting a neutralize poison on Cwenhild and in the meantime Ceol sees that he can at least partially heal Wilfrid's wound. Thoroncir sees Cwenhild has many gaping wounds and can at least begin to bandage them and he remembers that with great blood loss it is good to keep the victim as warm as possible.
Ceol will do what he can to heal (or at least stabilize) Wilfrid, until such time as Gilraen can come to give further assistance.
"Songs will be sung in Edoras of this day, and your role in it, good Wilfrid. Eonwë willing, you will be there to hear them."
Gil-Gandel therefore quickly hurries over to Cwenhild and casts a cure light wounds with the aid of his harp - it is little enough but may help. He also blankets her with his elf-cloak on seeing what Thoroncir is doing.
With most of the wights eliminated, Deor returns to his brazier and begins to warm himself over it, shivering at the effort required to turn that Lightning Bolt.
Gil-Gandel sees that as Gilraen completes her spell, that Cwenhild is beyond help. Her wounds do not bleed, they seep. Her blood loss is already greater then even an Elf could sustain. Gilraen looks despondent trying to save her.
Wilfrid could use additional help but Mulligan's administered Sweet Water bring him around and he looks much better.
Bitur is first to chase down the fleeing wight and he swiftly dispatches it with the axe covered in liquid light. Shortly after Drindoleth finishes off the last of the wights.
Rorimac feels very tired but also warmth from his ring, BELETHIL sustaining him.
Ceol moves to where Gil-Gandel and Gilraen are tending Cwenhild. He sits on the blood-soaked ground beside his countrywoman, leans close to her face, and strokes her hair, quietly singing in Rohirric. Tears are rolling down his cheeks as he does so.
Thoroncir tears off his helmet, falls to his knees and silently begins praying to Estë and all the Valar for their healing aid in Cwenhild's hour of need.
Looking around at what has happened, Mulligan shakes her head sadly and moves back to the braziers, enlisting Deor in making something for everyone, they are likely to need it. There will be time for tears and remembrance from her later.
Rorimac comes back from Kkosal's corpse. "Its over." Looking upon Cwenhild, the light from Belethil goes out as tears fill his eyes. "Cwenhild, when I said I wanted us to both walk away from this, I meant it."
His shoulders shaking, Deor keeps his face turned away from the party as he begins to heat water over his brazier. Cwenhild's immediate survival is out of his hands, but if Gilraen can save her, clean water and warmth will be needful.
Taking a deep breath, Rorimac up straight.
Poor Cwenhild, she followed me her and I cannot lead her home. But we're still on the Barrows and maybe not not safe.
"Haladain, Drindoleth, please check the area, see if anything else is coming. Mulligan, when you are ready, check the those undead that fell for anything magical or unholy we should know about. Gil-Gandel, should we stay here this Night or still head for Bree? This is still the Barrows, but Bree is still a few hours travel."
It is clear Gilraen can do no more for Cwenhild, meanwhile others, especially Wilfrid could use her help. Gilraen seems most distraught.
Drindoleth comes back to the party looking bloodied and matted but gives a great shudder and shrinks down to a normal bear size and then back into human form. He starts checking the area after casting up a Detect Magic.