"The name is Wolfstine, I haven't had the chance to know the names of the leaders here. I guess we'll have to find out."

he lets Thufir take the lead and follows

The half orc lower his gaze in sadness.

-I'm sorry for what happened to your companion mister...- he pauses for a moment realising that he doesn't know the man's name and he hasn't introduce himself.

-Where are my maners? My name is Steven Collins, it would be my pleasure to help you in fighting this "Cult of the Dragon", having in mind that they have put in danger the safety of the people in this town. I'll follow your lead.- said the monk with an embarrassed smile.

"Pleased to meet you Steven and Wolfstine."  The sharp-featured man pauses and bows gracefully "I am Lord Vitre, wizard apprentice of Candlekeep and practitioner of the elven bladesong."

"I am Spirit-Whisperer of the Ogolakanu herd," the goliath says as she towers over her newfound allies. She looks confused at how Lord Vitre introduces himself, seeming to not understand half of what he says. 

"Spirit-Whisperer.  Now that is rather interesting.  I myself am inclined to influence by sword or sorcery.  When we have a moment, you must indulge me how one whispers to spirits." 

Lord Vitre grins as he surveys the area for someone with authority.

The half orc looked at the two in front of him impressed for their knowledge of such themes.

-Spirits and songs are nice things to be in contact with, especially when meditating and controling emotions. Is it odd that I'm starting to look fowards to this mission even more after hearing those things?- asked Steven with a bashful smile.

"The spirits of my people follow me and tell me their stories. Perhaps I shall share some of their tales with you."

One of the guardsman for the town of Greenest looks over the motely gathered group of adventurers and gestures toward the center of the keep with an exhausted eye.

"Governor Nighthill is in charge of the situation so far," the guardsman says tiredly. "He has been kept abreast of what is going on with this raid. You can find him inside the main building over there. He might have some way for you to help...deal...with these raiders."

The central area that the guardsman gestures toward is the towering circular tower that is settled into the eastern wall of the keep itself. There are two smaller buildings, one against the north wall and one against the eastern wall next to the round tower, that are busy with people moving to and for. It feels as if a good chunk of the very town of Greenest has so far crowded their way into the keep. Several people are bandaging wounds, the guards are all taking rotations along the top wall of the keep and watching the gate.

The Governor himself, when you finally arrive at the base of the tower, is a elder gentleman of around sixty years, human in age. The right half of his face and head is heavily bandage, and you can see that his right arm currently hangs in a hastily constructed sling. His blue tunic is stained reddish-brown with already drying blood. When you find him he is pacing around the base room of the tower, one hand pressed to his lips, deep in thought. A map of Greenest sits on table, pinned in place with a few marks and scribbled notes around it.

Thufir leads the way into the room with the Governor, looks around at the maps and clear battle planning, and gives a nod of approval at the clear evidence that this old man was clearly in the midst of the fight. “Leading by example. And not afraid to get into the shit. This man’ll be a good all ally,” he thinks as he approaches. “Is it time to take the fight to them?” he asks, not yet introducing himself, though does so once the Governor looks up, “Thufir Hawat. I’ve got some experience fighting these mask wearing bastards, but I’ve never seen a coordinated attack like this before.”

Looking back to see who followed, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that the riff-raff crew that had formed at the gates around that family seems to have stuck around and isn’t done with this skirmish yet either. Gesturing behind him generally he adds, “Reports are that they’ve got forces massing outside of town ready to support, but no word on specific numbers that I’ve heard.” He pauses a bit here to see if anyone wants to add any information they haven’t yet. “Is the dragon still in the area? Or has that beast fled?” he finishes as he walks up to the table and starts glancing at the map to see what information he can glean that the Governor has already gathered.

Wolfstine does a polite bow "Wolfstine at your service. Perhaps a way to get in and out of the keep unseen would help a small force like ours rescue a few more, maybe clergy to help with healing."

"The spirits of my tribe have told be how to heal," Gae-Al says to Wolfstine. Turning to the apparent ruler of the area (although he looks rather weak to rule), she says, "Killing dragon worshipers is a great way for my tribe's name to go down in history. Point us in the direction we can help."

"My name is Steven Collins, I'll do everything I can to help Governor Nighthill in any way posible." said the half-orc bowing in a monk-like way. He turned to look at Gae-Al and approach her to talk. "Excuse me miss Spirit-Whisperer, you said that you can heal people. Is it possible that you can heal the governor? He is hurt, I would do it myself if I knew how to do it. Can you?" asked politely with a concerned look in his eyes.

Governor Nighthill waves one hand at the sudden talk of healing and utters a short, "While I appreciate the thought, there are far more pressing matters than something as simple as this." He looks over each of the party in turn before sighing heavily and leaning against the table with the map. "I am Tarbraw Nighthill, Governor of this little town of Greenest. I would normally spare more pleasantries yet," he grimaces, "as you can no doubt tell now is not the time."

He breathes out heavily and looks down toward the map. "These...raiders. You say there is intelligence on more of them?" He clenches his good hand into a fist and lets out a short curse. "Damn it all. That is not--no. I need more conclusive reports..." he looks to the map, and then with a heavy puff of air pushes himself from the table and gestures toward the stairs. "Follow me."

The walk is rather short. Those who choose to follow Nighthill are taken up to the top of the tower, upon the parapet that overlooks all of Greenest, giving a fair good view of the location of several of the raiders by dint of small lights, torches and moving shadows. From here it is easiest to see what is in need, where the highest concentration of raiders are--and the dragon that still circles high overhead, spitting lightning into the air.

"If you are willing I would ask for your aide," Nighthill says as he overlooks the town of Greenest, his face a storm of emotion as he stares out at the fires burning. "More of my people are trapped out there than I would like--any aide you can give them or...better," Nighthill rubs his hand across his chin, "yes, better...if you can bring back some of these raiders for questioning." Nighthill looks to the gathered group of adventurers. "I would give anything to know what we're up against exactly, and why. If you can bring back any prisoners--hell even a low ranking commander--it would go a long way in determining just why these--" Nighthill spits a curse, pushes off from the railing, and turns to pace the length of the parapet.

“You’re speaking my language.” Thufir says, his gruff voice almost betraying a tinge of excitement. “Have you any idea where your men would be holding up? Perhaps we can kill two dragons with one stone here. Help your men while also grabbing a few of these masked fools to bring back.” Then looking around says, “Have you got any extra rope to tie them up? I doubt they’ll come peacefully.”

Wolfstine replies "That's why we're here governor." Wolfstine looks towards the dragon with awe having never seen one this close then he looks down at the city to see if there is any obvious places being defended. That is if he can see well enough

"I have rope, but we do need more. Maybe some manacles or some type of restraints."

he adds to Thufir's request liking the idea of the hunters becoming the hunted.

"These little raiders shall be a fine prize to capture and prove our strength," Gae-Al says as she cracks her knuckles. Looking over to Thufir she says, "You think we are able to kill 2 dragons with a single stone. You are either very strong or very dumb."

Lord Vitre quips "And I will accompany you all in case there's need to prove our intelligence."  

Nighthill frowns as he paces, one hand waved out toward the town. He doesn't necessarily reply toward the whereabouts of any of the people--even he is largely unaware of where people are holed up, and he's rather lapsed into thought for the moment, trying to determine the best fortified areas and if any of Greenest's citizens might've gone to them. Offhandedly Nighthill does add, "You can speak to the Castellan of this keep, Escobert, about supplies and fortifications. He'll know more," before he turns sharp on his heel and begins to head over to check in with the few guards that stand atop the parapet with their eyes on the town.

The moon is high in the sky, granting an ambient sort of light interspersed with the dragons bursts of lightning and the fires in the distance below from the parapet. As Wolfstine peers to the town of Greenest, he is able to see a few areas where the fires seemed to be gathered, movements in the shadows below that give him some hint as to the pattern of movement of the raiders throughout the town of greenest. Toward the southeast, directly from the tower, there seems to be a large gathering of raiders around a slightly fortified building. He can make out what looks to be two, possibly three, groups that surround the fortified building--some sort of temple, probably, given the structure's general shape.

 The party as a whole has about five minutes more to discuss among themselves before Nighthill storms back up to them, face pinched.

"We have another problem," Nighthill said tersely. "I've been informed that someone has caught site of the raiders attempting to light the mill on fire." He spits a bit of a curse. "We can't lose the damned mill; if they succeed we'll lose our stockpile of flour and we won't be able to grind down any more for months. Gods damn it," Nighthill clenched his fist tightly, then looks upon the party with as close to a look of concern that he'll allow in this moment. "I can probably scrounge up enough of a force to keep the mill defended for the rest of the night, but that is going to take some time--and right now time is what we don't have."

Nighthill gestures for the party to look over toward the southwestern edge of the parapet. He points toward a building in the distance, maybe five hundred feet away. "It would be a great service if you can get to the mill and drive the bastards off, stop them from putting our supplies to the fire, at least until the guardsman can arrive to keep it defended." Nighthill looks at them, his face curled into a grimace. "At most my men will be fifteen minutes behind you. Can you do this?"

Thufir listens carefully to the Governor, and looks towards where he pointed, at the mill, making a note of its direction, as well as any buildings or fortifications nearby it that could be used strategically. After Nighthill finishes, Thufir turns towards the door and says, "Have your men bring rope, and water. And to hurry!" He then starts to jog out the door, rushing towards the mill, saying loudly, "Looks like it's time to bring the fight to them boys!"

Wolfstine perception

8