Café de Nuit

Lord Filbert and his five comrades (Renn, Roald, Gunnar, Safana, Foerde) step out into the street before Caer Haes, armed and ready for action. At Filbert's behest and following the Archprelate's advice, they all join hands and steel themselves for what follows. The cobblestones beneath their feet begin to vibrate, the sky above whirls madly, and in a flash the cityscape changes around them.

Where the welcome walls of Caer Haes had stood, the dour battlements of Caer Alam now rise into the late morning sky. Judging from the position of the sun, hardly any time has passed in the miraculous transit! Alert guards on the wall call out 'who goes there' as the party looks about the side street that runs along the western, shadowed face of the fortress of Duke Carilon.

Gunnar wastes no time, but clanks over to the nearest wooden gate at full speed. He drives his armored fingertips into the narrow gap around edges of the heavy door. Wood splinters and iron groans as the huge man rips the reinforced door off its hinges!

Roald ducks through the gap under Gunnar's massive right arm and strikes down the first man in his way.

Foerde draws his borrowed sword and rushes in to aid his fellow warriors.

Safana chants a spell as her two stealthier comrades sneak towards the gate, sticking to the shadows.

Gunnar, Roald, and Foerde smash into the shocked guards, cutting men down like cornstalks. During the bloody chaos, none of the Alaimiens seem to notice the child-sized shadow or its larger brother as these slip past. Nor does anyone stop the unfamiliar young guardsman who runs inside the keep to 'get help!'

part two, the battle under the gate house and in the courtyard

The three champions of Tuornen battle in a tight knot, striking down Alamiens clad in mail coats or padded jerkins, pushing deeper into the gateway corridor.

The Alamiens crowding into the breach fight with a certain measure of caution, as if relying on their numerical advanatge to carry the day. Their truncated swordthrusts do little harm, but they manage to hold the line long enough for others to drop a portcullis that will trap the party in the castle!

As the portcullis slams home behind the party, arrows begin striking the pavement back that way, evidently fired through murder holes in the broad roof over the gate. Gunnar and his two comrades must jump ahead to avoid being shot.

Hearing the iron grate fall, Gunnar steps back after cutting down a lightly armored man. He sticks his war-sword in the nearest corpse, hilt upright, and turns towards the grate. While Foerde and Roald trade blows with Alamien swordsmen in the inner opening of the gate-corridor, the hulking northman tugs at the iron bars.
With a terrific snap of metal and a sharp crack of stone, Gunnar tears the portcullis out of its housing! He turns and hurls the heavy iron frame straight over the heads of his companions, right into an oncoming mass of guards.

The surprised Alamiens scatter; some trip and fall as the portcullis bounces off the flagstones of the bailey and strikes their legs.

Roald, Gunnar, and Foerde battle on, desperately striking and parrying, knocking down foes only to confront more and more with every passing moment! The big man throws daggers during brief, panting lulls in the fierce melee, but accidentally cuts his bandolier of blades, dropping his spare throwing knives.

Alamiens on the walls point bows and arbalests down at the Tuors, but hold fire rather than shoot into the fast moving, confused battle in the bailey.

inside the keep, Safana and her shadows


Magically disguised as a slim, boyish Alamien guard, Safana makes her way around the battle and into the keep. She searches for the entrance to the dungeons, questioning servants or guards as she encounters them.

Filbert and Renn creep after the disguised sorceress, keeping to the shadowed alcoves, hanging tapestries, and dim lit side halls.

Safana soon locates the dungeons, but finds herself detained at the closed door leading down the cells. The bloated, ugly jailer tells her, leering all the while,
"Nobody gets through without a pass, castle guard's coat or not. You got a pass, pretty boy?"

Her attempts at flim-flam do no good.

The obese turnkey reaches to grab her by the arm.
"You're going on report with the sergeant!"


The man's bloodshot eyes pop wide open. He coughs, pink sputum flecking his thick lips. His fingers relax their grip on Safana's shoulder.

Renn steps out of the shadows just to his left and rear. The Tuor guard captain wrenches his bloody sword free of the dying jailer's flabby back.

After hiding the warm corpse, the infiltrators check the door. Locked, of course. The slain jailer's keys get them past this first door, but at the bottom of the stairs they find another door, with a lock that no key on the ring fits. But Filbert manages to pop the lock with some wire and his picks, working swiftly.

As the would-be rescuers enter the dim-lit dungeon to seek Cormac, they hear commotion in the keep above.

Filbert seems to have little trouble seeing in the gloomy hall lined with cells. The little lord pad-foots along, standing tip-toed before each cell in turn, looking for the druid.
He locates Cormac's cell just as four guards armed with swords and cudgels come round a corner at the far end of the hall. The Alamiens look over and spot Safana (who still looks like an Alamien guardsman).

"Hey, you there, what's going on upstairs?"

Cormac
Waking from a doze at the muffled sounds of shouts and crashes, Cormac looks around his candle-lit cell. No obvious source of the noise; and now that he listens more carefully, the sounds do seem far away.

Something appears in his barred window; a pale, childlike face peeking in the lower edge of the grill.

"'Ello child," he says, standing and picking up his things. "Any idea wha' all tha' noise is?"

ROALD, BATTLE ROYALE

Between slashes and parries, Roald glances up at the arblests aiming down at them. "Were going to need to so something about those crossbowmen."

FILBERT

Adam wrote:"'Ello child," he says, standing and picking up his things. "Any idea wha' all tha' noise is?"

Peeking into one of the cells, Filbert spots the druid Cormac.
The prisoner calls out to him; even as newly arrived guards down the dim hallway call out to Safana (who still wears a magical disguise).

Varrus the Ethical wrote:ROALD, BATTLE ROYALE

Between slashes and parries, Roald glances up at the arblests aiming down at them. "Were going to need to so something about those crossbowmen."

Foerde

"Right, lets push forward." Foerde says while slashing and parrying.

FILBERT

The halfling smiles at the druid in the cell and waves to him but soonafter spots guards coming so he gets his finger at his mouth indicating to Cormac to be quiet. Then tries to hide till he gets the opportunity to free the druid.

ewancummins wrote:inside the keep, Safana and her shadows

"Hey, you there, what's going on upstairs?"

Renn keeps the shadows, a sword in his hand and a grim smile on his face. He thinks Safana should be able to distract the four guards, but if not, Renn will not hesitate to strike from the shadows, then dispatch whomever remains.

THE EXPERT

Having quietly arranged for a boat to be held in readiness on the Lofton docks (below the bluffs and the city wall), Morgan passes through the dirty alleys of the narrow riverfront district, pursuing his own investigations...

CORMAC

Cormac's eyes widen as he recognizes the halfling, nodding as he signals for quiet.

He turns back to his cot, shifting the mattress and pulling out his crudely fashioned club and shuffling it under his shirt.

He waits, eagerly, waiting for his moment to make a move.

Safana waves at the guards

"We're under attack! Some sort of Tuornen raid! they just appeared out of thin air, and they seem unstoppable! Sergeant says, three men topside and one guarding the jail! Fast!"

kintire wrote:Safana waves at the guards

"We're under attack! Some sort of Tuornen raid! they just appeared out of thin air, and they seem unstoppable! Sergeant says, three men topside and one guarding the jail! Fast!"

The four guards react swiftly; they run to the stairs leading up. One man remains behind, standing near the base of the stairwell facing up the steps, his sword drawn. The others exit through the door at the top.
If any of the guards spotted Filbert or Renn in their hiding places, the Alamiens gave no indication of such.


The man who remained behind calls out over his shoulder in a soft voice,

"Hey, friend, did you get a look at who it was? Tuors? Lord Riegon's rebels?"

THE DUNGEON, CONT.

Brock Marsh Runoff wrote: , Renn will not hesitate to strike from the shadows, then dispatch whomever remains.

Renn creeps up behind the guard and in one motion tilts the man's kettle helm forward to blind him for a critical second while swinging a dagger pommel hard at the back of his head. The guard manages a strangled gasp before the heavy blow sends him sprawling onto the steps. He doesn't get back up.

Renn checks his man-- out cold but alive.



Filbert finds that none of the fat gaoler's keys fit the lock on the very stout-looking hardwood-and-iron door of Cormac's cell. The little thief tries to pry the portal open with a short bar.

But even with help from Safana, and Cormac shoving from the far side, the door won't budge. Once Renn has rejoined his fewllows, he tries the door with no better luck. At best the party's combined efforts only make the thick, iron-bound door shake a little in its frame. Looking about the dungeon, they may notice that the door of this particular cell seems to be of stronger make than those of other, slightly smaller cells.

Noises faintly carry through the door at the top of the stairway. Sounds like a fight or maybe a lot of men headed this way in a hurry...

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