Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story

[On second thought, maybe T'laren has never heard of twig blights, after all.]

[Regarding the costume, the man is dressed as a disciple of the Cult of the Dragon.  They're a special batch of nutters obsessed with dragons.  They've been responsible for a few calamities over the centuries but are greatly reduced in influence these days.]

((Twig blight, that's a fungal disease some trees get where the new growth gets sick and falls off, right? Careful pruning and burning of the diseased twigs is the remedy.))

Garrin walks up close and stares for a long moment before sighing. Then in an impatient voice of explaining the obvious: "Perhaps you'd like to invite us in for some tea or such?"

"Tea..." the cult leader speaks the word as something between a statement and a question, the sound lingering in the air as he struggles to grasp the unexpected turn in the conversation.

"I... I'm afraid we have no tea.  Though I suppose... I see no harm in letting you shelter with us."  The other man looks at him incredulously, to which he raises a stern hand.  "Its not safe for any of us be out here in the dark.  Lest we draw unwelcome attention, why don't the three of you come inside?"  

[It seems clear they haven't noticed T'laren.]

At that moment, the Spirit of Air and Darkness appears alongside Garrin, and passes him a book.  Written on the next page is a response from Reidoth.

Garrin:

 The two cultists look at the imp, mouths agape.  "Where did that come from?  Are you an infernalist?"

Garrin stomps has staff. "Infernalist?! Now see here! THAT is a spirit of air and darkness! Now you best get your facts straight before you go spouting names you know nothing about and attaching labels and such! To a guest no less!" 

Garrin waltzes inside, grumbling and moaning. 

T'laren holds position on the roof, remaining out of sight.

Droknin just follows Garrin, understanding that he has a better grasp of situations like these.

Keashirryl enters with the other two, trying not to raise attention. She can only hope that T'laren will alert them in case of any issues. She visibly tugs at her holy symbol. 

"So" she starts upon stepping into the interior "I suppose you are here because of the dragon, but since when are the zombies around? Were they connected to whatever caused this place to collapse?"

She stays alert, making sure that neither she nor her companions mention dragon hunting or the presence of their fourth friend.

[Sorry about the absence, when things slowed down a bit, I entirely forgot that I should keep an eye on the thread.] 

The cultists seem disarmed by Garrin's aggressive etiquette.  

Inside there are four more men [so 6 total].  They have cleared out most of the floorspace inside this cottage, shoving old furniture and debris into corners and closets.  There are a handful of sleeping bags spread out on the floor in the main room, and a small fire is burning in the hearth.

"I've heard the ash zombies are a constant problem in these environs.  When the mountain exploded a generation ago, it was... well, I suppose it was magical, or something.  Many of those locals that died in the fires rose as undead, and its said they linger still."

T'laren, after the others go inside, it is quiet on the roof.  That is, except for some rustling you hear in the bushes around the cottage.  Make a perception check.

T'laren Perception: 21

Drokin sees nothing wrong with having some refreshments with some amicable folks. He strides casually with Mlinzi in hand.

T'laren:

Garrin nods to each of the people inside and pulls a chair out of the furniture that's been pushed aside, so that he can sit. 

"So... Seems the zombies are troubling for you. Am I correct?"

T'laren is gradually putting together from context that these might be the 'twig blights' that were mentioned by the guy who exited the cottage. He didn't seem overly concerned about them, but seemed to view them as a nuisance. For now T'laren will keep quiet, but move his Echo to a neighboring building's ruins, perching atop a vantage point within 30 ft from his position where he can flash to in the event the cottage gets overrun.

Most of the cultists seem uneasy to be in cramped quarters with the giant leonin barbarian, but they defer to their leader's casual ease.  

"Not really," Favric answers Garrin.  "From what we can tell the zombies mostly stay inside the buildings.  Perhaps they retain some shred of their former selves, and linger inside their homes?  Who can say?" 

"The little wooden plant monsters are more of a problem, but so far they haven't troubled us inside."

He smiles broadly.  "But the dragon... she is the reason we are here.  Our organization is dedicated to fostering good will and peaceful relations between men and dragons.  With her settling in and making a lair so close to Neverwinter, its only a matter of time before conflict could occur.  Its our mission to entreat with her and establish a dialogue... perhaps even a mutually beneficial alliance."

"We will be going to visit her at first light tomorrow.  Might you be interested in accompanying us?  It should be a marvelous experience."

T'laren:

In the event their conversation is drowning out the twig creatures, T'laren will drag an arrow across the roof and tap it a bit to alert those inside, preparing to step to a nearby roof if the twig monsters take exception to his presence.

Garrin starts to reply, but on hearing the noise: 

"It sounds like your neighbors are more worrying than you had thought! Rude things. Now, as we are your guests, we'll assist you here, BUT I expect you to defend your own home! A man who can't defend his home is nothing, after all." 

intimidate maybe? All my charisma skills are the same 23 

One of the cultists smacks the side of his own head at the scratching on the roof and Garrin's comments.  "Right.  Right.  I forgot about that twig beast on the roof in all the commotion."  He holds up his sling.  "Won't take but a moment.  I'll be right ba -!"

He opens the door to step outside, but is bowled over by a pile of small, wooden monsters which had been stacking up outside, apparently plotting to breach the door.  The creatures resemble woody shrubs that have pulled their roots free of the ground.  Their branches twist together to form humanoid-looking bodies with heads, limbs and wooden, sliver-covered claws.

INITIATIVE:

• T'laren (up on the roof, with an echo across the way):  22
• Keashirryl:  18
• Garrin:  22
• Droknin:  7
• Droop (where is Droop?):  19
• Favric and the Cultists:  14
• Twig Blights A:  20
• Twig Blights B:  16 

ROUND ONE:

1. Keashirryl
2. Garrin
3. Droknin
4. Droop
5. Twig Blights A
6. T'laren
7. Cultists
8. Twig Blights B

[Sorry about the blurry map.  The size is off and it's getting all pixelated. 

For purposes of this battle, the cultists are allies (like the other PCs) and you can move through their spaces - but cannot end your turn in the same space as another PC or ally.  Unless of course you decide to attack the friendly cultists in which case they will become enemies like the Twig Blights.]

Seeing the horde of twig blights collected at the door, Keashirryl decides that this is - once again - not a lucky day. Thus, she would cast bless on Droknin, Garrin and - if possible - T'laren (the spell says within range, not sight, so hopefully it works). If she is still too far away, she will move further into the room before casting the spell, to the unoccupied space next to Droknin, so that she can affect everyone.