Dragon of Icespire Peak ***CLOSED***

"Quite clear, Mistress," says the voice in her head, "...I shall make myself clear as well," he adds while disappearing from sight in a puff of smoke.

Having made their preparations, the party heads east from Triboar, bound for the hunting lodge tucked deep within the Neverwinter Wood nearly eighty miles from their current location.

(OOC: At a normal travel pace of 24 miles per day, the journey to the hunting lodge will require 4 days of travel, with the party arriving around noon on the fourth day.)

The party's journey to the hunting lodge is largely uneventful, which was peculiar given the reputation of the Neverwinter Wood as a dangerous forest full of wild beasts, fell creatures and locations known to house insidiously evil magic. Nonetheless, they arrive unscathed amid a thin fog surrounding a fortified compound in a clearing on the east side of a narrow river.

A ten-foot-high log palisade surrounds the compound, whose main building is a two-story stone-and-wood affair with a high-pitched roof, gables, window shutters, and a stone chimney. Attached to the main building is a blocky tower of gray stone, its high roof lined with battlements. Other structures include a two-story stable house and a gatehouse whose flat roof is enclosed by iron railings. A stone bridge spans the river, ending before an oaken door set into the gatehouse’s outer wall. Mounted next to the door is a bell with a short rope hanging from its clapper.

"What the play here?  You want me to ring bell or go," he hefts his new maul, "knock?" Minsys says with a grin.

" Mayhaps our new unruly ally can be of use..." Tabesha'l snaps her fingers and as Arvi pops into thin air in front of her, she points the small bat upwards towards the battlements.

" Time to lend me thine eyes and ears, little fiend !' she tells the Quasit telepathically, " Onwards, fly and do thy Mistress proud ! And do try not to get involved in any more mischief: simply reconnoiter the area and wait for my command."

From high above, Arvi provides Tabesha'l with a glimpse of what lies on the other side of the battlement walls

(OOC: see map posted in Discord server.)

While Tabesha'l scouts from above, Connak looks around from below to see if there is any sign of a recent attack - Wisdom (Perception): 17 and he notices not one but several blood trails leading in multiple directions, both towards and away from the lodge.

"Blood trails." Connak tells the others, pointing them out.  "Odd, some are going towards the lodge, others away.  Let us scout the ones heading away before we knock and alert what is inside?"

Connak follows several blood trails to the thickets at the edge of the forest clearing at the perimeter of the hunting lodge grounds.

He is able to determine that the blood is a few days old and not of the human or elvish variety. The brush at the edge of the clearing shows signs of dried blood as well and the presence of several broken twigs would indicate that whatever was bleeding had left the scene in a hurry.

 " Blood trails, but also no sign of life inside the compound, at least not any that our new spy can see..." Tabesha'l warns her companions as she calls back her bat.

 " I am quite pleased with thy performance, Arvi. Methinks I shall give thee some enemies to torment quite soon as a reward, wouldst thee enjoy this ?" she purrs, a playful smile forming on her painted lips as she uses her mind link to address her familiar.

Connak tells his party stealthfully, "It looks to me like someone assaulted the lodge, failed and retreated.  I think getting in that lodge to see if the residents need help is paramount.  I also don't think knocking very wise.  Anyone up for a climb?"

With the group declining to have him knock, Minsys puts the maul away.  While Connak suggests a climb he says, "Climbin be fine, I give you a lift or you want me up first?"

If Connak offers to go first, Minsys will boost him up higher.  If he declines here's an athletics roll 21

Connak looks up at the walls, steels his resolve and nods at Minsys, "The fewer of us scampering about, the better.  If the courtyard is clear, I will unlock and open the door.  Then we can all proceed carefully watching each other's backs."

In case they are needed:

• Athletics: 4 or 9 with advantage.
• Acrobatics: 7 or 14 with advantage.
• Stealth: 22 or 10 with advantage.
• Perception: 12 or 6 with advantage.
• Investigation: 6 or 8 with advantage.

As Minsys and Connak begin to make their way over the 10-foot tall wooden barricade, and gruff voice calls out: "You know, visitors usually knock. Invaders do, well...what you're doing...so which is it?"

The party turns to find a male human, well over six feet tall, striding towards them. He wears a fur-lined cloak over studded leather armor concealing broad shoulders and a hearty frame. His eyes are as blue, cold, and sharp as ice, and he sports a neatly trimmed beard. He moves towards them with the casual confidence of one who fears nothing.

Connak growls at being snuck upon, and snarls, "Well, that entirely depends what is inside that lodge!  There have been rampaging orcs in the area and I'd rather not knock on the door of what is now an orc post.  Yeah?"

“Point taken,” says the man. “There have been orcs here - they raided two nights ago; left my stablehand in dire condition. It was a small group, unorganized - I managed to kill three of them; the other three retreated back into the woods, though I’m sure I haven’t seen the last of them.”

”I am Falcon, this is my lodge. Who might you be?”

Ando steps forward and nods deferentially in greeting.

""Greetings Falcon, my name is Ando Fain. My compatriots and I are adventurers aiding the town of Phandalin. While defending Big Al’s ranch from orc raiders, we found a map that appears to mark several of their camps. We are here seeking further information about the threat they pose to Phandalin with the goal of removing their presence from the woods.""

"Well met, Ando Fain," says the burly woodsman. "Something's got the orc hordes in this region all stirred up - haven't seen this much activity in quite a while. I picked off a few individuals that were hunting and foraging southeast of here, but I must have let one escape my notice because they attacked us here a day later. You say you defended another raid at Butterskull Ranch? Well, any friend of Sheriff Kalazorn is welcome here...apologies for my stern introduction, surely you can see how someone scaling the palisade wall would be cause for alarm."

Falcon moves forward to clasp hands with Ando as he speaks and then unlocks the heavy wooden door and beckons them inside: "We should move indoors - I've seen way more orc tracks than I have killed orcs, so there's more in the area. I had gone out to forage herbs to make a poultice for poor Pell's wounds, but I fear it will only prolong his suffering. He took a blow to the chest while trying to defend Corwin - brave lad, he is. Probably saved old Corwin's life, but now his own is in severe peril."

Once inside, the party finds a modestly apportioned hunting lodge with a tastefully rustic feel. The interior would have been largely unremarkable if not for one glaring exception - dozens of angry orc faces staring back at them from all sides...

...but not from heads mounted atop broad, green shoulders but rather orc heads mounted upon wooden game trophy plaques hanging from the walls in row after gruesome row. Closer inspection reveals that some have likely been there for years while others look as though they are less than a tenday old. Young, old, large, small, males and females and all bearing malevolent expressions frozen in time by an apparently very talented taxidermist.

As the party collects themselves from the initial shock, the notice a small pallet in the center of the room bearing a small human male of not more than 12 years of age. The boy struggles to breathe in ragged gasps as an elderly gentleman kneels at his side trying his best to dress numerous wounds. "He's not got long," says the old man without looking up. "I told you hunting orcs for sport would lead to something like this, but did you listen? No, of course not! What do I know, I'm just a foolish old man! And who's this, hmm? Your newest group of pompous Waterdavian lords looking to call themselves 'orc-hunters'...bah! Such needless wickedness!!"

Connak looks around at the trophies and grimaces, "I understand the need to kill orcs on the warpath, but this is a bit morbid."

Tabesha'l walks into the room without a word, but her eyes are fixed on the grizzly trophies as well.

" No, thou cannot play with the 'pretty heads', Arvi. There will be ample time for hunting prowess and other plethoras of playful beheadings, and then I promise thee thou shall have thy toys. Just do be quiet for now, no use to alarm those humans yonder." she quickly answers her Quasit"s telepathic snickering, before approaching Ando. 

" Doeth thee thinketh thou couldst help yon poor child ?" she asks the nature paladin in a whisper, obviously saddened by the spectacle of the dying Pell.  

 " He doeth seem quite badly hurt... I shall nevertheless prepare some clean bandages for the boy, if thou thinketh 'tis necessary or even useful ?"