Tarithnesti - Phase Two

06 Deepkolt 349 AC

THE PROTECTOR'S TOWER

Commander Parnitha steps out onto the balcony of her office. She stares out over the river where Eilra is setting out in a narrow canoe with two rowers. The captain is heading out to check for places the Dragonarmy could cross the river. They tow a raft with bundles of sharpened stakes they plan on dropping into narrow bends to foul, or even better, punch holes in enemy boats.

She turns and heads back inside. Her table is covered with a map that is in turn covered with tiny colored figures, each representing the troops she has scattered throughout the forest.

Parnitha opens the top drawer of her desk and pulls out a tiny chest. She slowly opens it, revealing a green crystal on a silver chain. She hangs the chain around her neck and wraps her fingers around the crystal. "Hopefully, we never need you."

AT THE FIRST FARMSTEAD

Raven, Ra'ziir, and Grotto have pulled six volunteers from the bladesinger's squad of scouts. The rest will accompany Romulus. Before the ambush team can leave, Lieutenant Fenar arrives, accompanied by two younger elves bearing cloth-wrapped bundles.

"Commander Parnitha thought you might appreciate these." He takes one of the bundles and opens it, drawing forth a single arrow tipped with a head of blue-white crystal. "These were finished only this morning in the Bowyer’s Glen."

He hands the arrow to Raven.

"They are balanced for flight, but that is not their true intention. When the arrowhead strikes, it will shatter."

Raven frowns, "Shatter?"

The lieutenant smiles, "Try one, that fence post over there, perhaps."

The swordsman quickly strings Luican's Bow, nocks the arrow, and fires. His shot is true and as the arrow strikes its target it explodes into a cloud of glittering dust that clings like frost to the wood. Even in daylight, it shimmers faintly.

Fenar explains, "The crystals are luminous. Their fragments will cling to whatever they strike - armor, cloth, skin. So, if the enemy tries to run..."

Raven nods, grinning, "Then they can be tracked back to their holes."

Grotto lets out a satisfied grunt, "Where there can be no escape!"

The lieutenant nods, "Bowyer Telanis asks that you judge their flight. She can make adjustments accordingly."

Grotto finishes loading the supplies to make the decoy for the ambush and the group is soon underway with a pair of stags pulling the sled.

Ra'ziir flies ahead on Redclaw to the chosen farmstead and by the time the rest of the group catches up, he has arranged a stall for Redclaw's comfort and has a flame burning in the house's fireplace.

The farm itself is quiet. Fruit trees remain bare with just a fine coating of late winter snow weighing down their branches. Raven, joined by Ra'ziir, walks the land, taking note of game trails and walking paths that lead to and from the small steading. A low stone wall surrounds the house itself. Raven leans a shoulder against and pushes. The stone holds firm against his efforts. "We can station two archers here."

Ra'ziir silently agrees, his eyes trained on the treeline. He notes movement along the shadowy cover and spots a small deer, accompanied by two more. The animals paw at the snow, uncovering the short grass beneath. The elfemental smiles and with a flick of his wrist and an arcane word. Five glowing dart burst from his fingers, striking with unerring accuracy amd brings one of the deer down.

“I think it makes a more tempting target to have some meat cooking… and I’m sure no one would argue with a hot meal. Red can help with the clean up once we butcher it up in the barn.”

Grotto, who is nearby stuffing empty sacks with bundles of rags and weeds looks up and claps his hands together once. "Now that is a plan I can get behind!" The dwarf moves forward with surprising alacrity and hefts the slain animal. "I'll get this feast started. There's a recipe in that halfling cookbook I've been aching to try! Maybe the owner of this place left me something to work with!"

Once the bladesinger and the swordsman have completed their patrol, they retire to the barn. Raz tends to Redclaw, brushing his feathers while Raven takes a ladder left behind when the elves living here were evacuated to Tarithnesti and begins fiddling with the hinges on the barn door, pulling out the pins. A pair of wooden wedges are placed between the door and its frame with a thin rope tying them together. One strong pull will yank the wedges out and the door will pitch forward, allowing the griffon and its master to quickly join the battle once the ambush begins.

AT THE CRYSTAL QUARRY

On the far side of the river, Cedron stands near a wooden table coated with a fine layer of crystal dust. The minstrel-priest directs elven defenders as they prepare for an influx of close to 400 refugees. Blankets, food, water, and medical supplies are moved into storage areas formerly reserved for mining supplies.

He is joined by Shadow. The dark elf’s troops will serve as the main line of defense for the refugees being relocated to this position. Additionally, they will form the response team if one of the ambush squads runs into greater resistance than expected with dark elf teleporting them to reinforce "hot spots" as needed.

To that end, the dark elf takes to the air, conducting a reconnaissance of the area surrounding the city, marking his personal map with notes. He lands in several locations, committing landmarks and other features to memory to serve as "landing spots" for his spells.

As he makes his rounds, he tells the sentries, “If you need us, we will come to your aid. Be ready.  And don’t shoot me if we just appear and yell “SUPPLIES!”

One of them laughs and replies, "I'll do my best."

Spewer, from his place on his master's shoulder, scowls at the would-be comedian and hisses, "No. Do better than that."

When the jokester turns a paler shade of white, the lizard laughs - a dry rasp that sounds like scales scraping against each other.

By the time Shadow returns to the quarry, Cedron has the dark elf’s scouts and those that remain from Ra'ziir's platoon escorting the first arrivals to their shelters. Cassidy floats from group to group, telling stories and singing songs. In fact, as Shadow arrives, he finds the kender spinning a wildly improbable tale about a mermaid and minotaur who wed and gave birth to a completely normal child. Children laugh at the funny voices while the parents understand the naughty jokes carefully concealed in the narrative.

Cedron frowns and turns to his friend, "My concern is that we protect the most vulnerable. What can we do to aid those going into protection? I feel we are so focused on our combatants that we are forgetting our civilians. I think we should do something more to help ensure that as many innocents are protected.”

Shadow nods.  “Well said, Ced. Do you think we should teleport the most vulnerable back to a safer location? I could start sending small groups once a day.”

Cedron nods, “That is an option. I’m unsure the volume of people you’d be able to move in that manner, but if we can get the most vulnerable priority, it could be quite useful. Otherwise, I suggest we provide some level of covert protection to the groups as they’re moving into safety. My reasoning is that our enemy will likely focus assaults on the most vulnerable, the enemy won’t expect them to be well protected.”

The drow explains, “I can move ten to fifteen folks once a day and bring back some supplies and/or reinforcements as needed. I have to make a couple of changes to my spells but help me pick out a small group to go tomorrow.  I will see what is needed that I can bring back. We have some of the reserves stationed at the caves. They can start making spears and showing folks who are willing to stand up to use them in the event we fail and they are attacked. A wall of spears gets your *point* across.” Shadow smirks at that comment.

“Shadow, thank you! I’m hopeful our actions will save many innocent lives.” Cedron begins working with the Wildrunners to identify routes and timing for their protection team."

ELSEWHERE IN TARITHNESTI

Kysek finds Ornforithalas in the Bowyer’s Glen. The former watch captain has Kysek’s scouts arrayed in two ranks. The first row is down on one knee, bows drawn while the second rank stands behind them.

"First Rank! Draw! Fire!" The kneeling archers shoot a volley of arrows.

"Second Rank!" Draw! Fire!" The standing elves release a second barrage.

"First!"

"Second!"

"First!"

"Second!"

Under Ornforithalas' command, a near constant stream of arrows in unleashed by the archers. "Slow is steady and steady is fast!" The captain moves along  behind the ranks, occasionally reaching out to lift the elbow of an archer or show them an adjustment to their grip.

The scouts notice the arrival of their actual captain but maintain formation.

"First Rank!"

"Second Rank!"

The arrows strike the far end of the range that it sounds almost close to rain on wood.

Ornforithalas turns to face his friend and commander.

"Looks like I left them in good hands," Kysek begins. There is a short pause. "I want you to command them."

Ornforithalas snorts, "I was relived of my command for overstepping my authority and disobeying orders."

Kysek shakes his head, "You did what needing doing when others wanted to wait. You deserve the position. Besides, my strengths lie in planning, stealth, and deception. So, I am going to do what I do best and you are going to say 'Yes, my friend, I humbly accept' and then do what you do best."

Ornforithalas laughs, the first genuine one Kysek has heard from him since he was originally demoted.

"Yes, my friend, I humbly accept." Ornforithalas smiles and extends a hand to Kysek.

"Good," Kysek replies. "Now that That is settled, I have a hungry griffon to tend to."

On the way to the stable, Kysek stops at a butcher shop and acquires a slab of venison and some thick bones. The butcher starts to protest but the Knight of the Barrie Grange shoves a handful of coins toward him, "That should more than cover your costs."

At the makeshift aerie, Dusk screeches eagerly as Kysek enters with today's offerings. Her dark wings beat against the walls as she prances. Bubo watches from the rafters above.

Kysek lets Dusk out of her stall and cleans it while she eats. As she finishes, Kysek begins scratching under her neck feathers. She leans in and turns her neck, offering more area for him to scratch. Bubo makes a hooting sound and drops from the rafters to scavenge bits that the griffon dropped.

Once everything is complete Kysek asks, “Are you ready to go for a flight, girl? Let’s go see what we can see.” He turns to Bubo, “You’re coming too my friend. Stay close; keep your eyes peeled as well.”

Kysek then saddles Dusk, snugging the girth and then the back cinch before climbing into the saddle and fastening the stays that will keep him seated even during the most acrobatic of maneuvers.

"Ready to fly, girl?" Kysek asks.

A small shriek is her answer. Bubo leads the way, flying out of the warehouse while a tap of Kysek’s heels sends Dusk forward.

Griffon and rider stride out into the street. The moment they step into the open, everything slows to a crawl. Soldiers on patrol, families escorting children and elders to shelters, shopkeepers stubbornly staying open in hopes of pocketing a few more coins before leaving town, they all turn to watch.

Dusk lifts her head regally and flares her wings. Kysek sits easily in the saddle as if he were only riding a simple horse down a village lane instead of a deadly predator.

A few of the younger elves whisper excitedly. “Is that Sir Kysek?"
“That’s one of the griffon riders.”
“Where’s he going?”
“Wherever the enemy is.”

At the end of the street, Dusk turns around so she is facing the river. She screeches once, ordering everyone to clear out ofnher way.

Kysek leans forward slightly. Dusk starts running, claws raking the ground as she builds up speed. She extends her wings and flaps once, twice, and on the third time she lifts off of the ground and begins to climb. Higher and higher they go. Kysek has Dusk circle the town so everyone can have a chance to see the two of them before he flies out over the forest.

AT THE OTHER FARMHOUSE

Romulus rides out to a second farmstead on his snow leopard, Macula with fourteen of Ra'ziir's scouts in tow. The cat moves in absolute silence, his coat blending perfectly against the snowy backdrop.

The scouts spread out as soon as they enter the clearing. Working in pairs and led by Sergeant Falindrithan, they check the main house and the barn, they sweep around the far edges of the adjacent field. One pair climbs to the roof of the house and checks the sightlines.

All of them report back, "All clear."

Romulus nods and gets to work. He places three illusions around the grounds, all set to activate if Goblins or Draconians draw near. The first illusion is a thick briar, the second a collapsed bridge over a stream, both meant to channel the invaders toward the house. The final illusion is one of the house that will overlay the real house - a column of thick smoke rising from the chimney, an open front door swinging on its hinges, and flickering candles in the windows.

Sergeant Falindrithan frowns, "What if they see through the illusions?"

Romulus raises an eyebrow. "They won't."

Falindrithan nods, "Sure. But what if they do?"

Romulus smiles faintly, "Then we improvise. Gather your men, briefing in ten minutes."

The platoon is soon gathered in the farmhouse kitchen. The sergeant assigns each to their ambush position - three in the house with him, four more in the barn, four behind the retaining wall and two along the trails as an early warning system.

Romulus advises all of them, "When the enemy comes, remain hidden, let them investigate. Curiosity is the best bait."

A scout that Romulus doesn't know asks, "Then when do we attack?"

Falindrithan answers, "Romulus will give the signal."

"And what is the signal?" The scout asks.

The archmage smiles, "I'll blow something up."