"It's been only 7 months since the Battle of Caermor, and already the world has changed. Hope spreads across the Westlands. The winds of magic stir as new fates are plucked from eternity. We answer the yearning call of all those still lost to the dominion of the Enemy, our ranks now reinforced by fresh recruits and new allies - among them, yourselves. I am Marshal Berethir of Albia, your immediate commander for operations on the northern flank."

The briefing room is a sturdy, well-furnished chamber, heavily protected by both enchantments and towering suits of enchanted armor. Your experienced eyes take in the high elf's imperious tone, but it is well earned. Unusually broad of frame, and taller even than most of his kin, Marshal Berethir radiates authority and wisdom - a trait further emphasized by the two subtle, yet intricate medals on his breast and the ancient sigils emblazoned on his robe (a Mage of 5th Circle, you are reliably informed). 

"I will not conceal the truth from you. Our position in the Alliance, from a military perspective, is fraught with peril. Caermor was a fluke - one chance in ten-million - that wounded the Enemy in a way that he thought himself invulnerable. While for the time we have bought ourselves reprieve, it is at a high price, and we can trust that the Enemy will return. We must, then, strike while he is yet vulnerable, recovering. We must undo the damage he has wrought on these lands, and whether we have the strength to do so is yet to be determined."

Though his words are weighted with a grave skepticism, the gleam in his eye betrays an even deeper passion in hope rekindled. 

"Even now, the Orders seek new weapons with which to break the Enemy's grip on this world. The Legions retrain and reorganize in preparation for the final battle. The Corps recruit far and wide - all these gather for the Great Push. You, and I, are tasked with clearing the way for this event. We must clear the flanks of Enemy forces, bring in new allies and eliminate Enemy sympathizers. We must inspire hope in a world free from the Enemy and restore what he has taken from us!"

In a rising crescendo, his voice flares brightly and seems to fill the room. You grasp in a moment how the days ahead will challenge you, how many will fall in this effort, and yet you glimpse as well the same faith that Berethir so evidently holds: the real possibility of victory, where before there was only darkness ahead.

"The three of you shall form a consolidated Task Force - please agree to a nomenclature among yourselves. At this time, our task is relatively straightforward, and quite secret. The spies of the Enemy are subtle, and likely still infest the region. Lord Talman, an original Alliance loyalist, has loaned us the use of his castle and estate as a staging area for our operations. The main forces of the Campaign are three day's march to the south and west of us, in the eastern lands of Dauvin at the Godslight temples near Caermor - still rallying their forces. We are to ascertain the status of the Enemy's grip on this region, to eliminate all traces of it where possible, and to determine the potential use of the bridge here, just East of Brivensrook, as a possible avenue of advance for elements of the main force. For the time being, I will leave you to your task, as I must oversee other operations in the region. Be prepared to give me a report here at the castle in one week's time. I leave you with this map, drawn from High Command's most recent scouting reports of the area. It's rough, but they seem to indicate the presence of enemy forces here in the hills and in hiding around Brive's Peak, including a brief sighting of a dragon. Send word immediately if you plan to engage the beast, as you may not be equipped to deal with a grown and trained adult. For the Alliance!"

After a resounding cheer, Berethir allows questions, but soon dismisses you in preparation to direct other forces further north and west of your area of operation.

(Feel free to ask any questions of Berethir now. Your forces are encamped in Talman, well supplied as this is a main logistical hub for the region with several other taskforces operating out of this same area. )

Map:

Branwen leans her shoulder against the wall of the briefing room, her arms crossed as she watches the mage motivate the troops. Her gray porcelain expression remains passive, though it’s difficult to read her features, which bear the traditionally blurred features of a changeling. Her long, pearlescent hair is fixed in a single, thick plait, currently pulled over the right shoulder. Her dull, black leather armor is complimented by bands of reinforced, near-black metal, as she rests one hand casually on the hilt of her sheathed rapier. On the opposite hip of the rapier, three small daggers sit in specially made straps in the armor. The weapons are also dull, though, looking closely, one can tell the dullness is aesthetic and not due to a lack of care. She raises an eyebrow at the map, widening a deep violet eye.

“The Dahlia is wasted on confrontation. Though my troops have prepared for direct skirmishes, our strength lies in stealth, surprise, recon, and deception.” Oddly her rather androgynous voice expresses something akin to her blurred physical features, almost as if she were speaking in an echo chamber. “It seems we would be best suited to rooting out any potential spy networks in the area, or, perhaps, providing undercover reconnaissance on the Enemy’s remaining infrastructure. I, and most of the Dahlia, can mask ourselves as orcs or similar such rabble. I imagine we could infiltrate, eliminate, and replace enemy spy networks in a relatively short time. Any other ideas, gentlemen?”

The changeling purses her lips and looks to her two colleagues, genuinely curious about their takes on the situation.

Frenevir listen to Berethir words and then those of Branwen. 

"The Curumahtar had suffered heavy loses at the Battle of Caermor, but we have recovered enough to be of service again. " His silvery eyes briefly flashes with proud talking of his unit "We can use magic to disguise ourselves for a brief moment, but I do not think that we are ready to infiltrate the enemy spy network and replace it to feed them with false information and provide us insgiht of their plans. That's a good idea " he says to Branwen "And a dangerous one. But if it wouldn't be difficult... they would have call other ones, right? " he smirks to the other two unit leaders. "What do we know of that orc encampment sir? " he asks to their commander. 

Wearing a polished chain mail, he wears no apparent weapon, except a utility dagger on his belt. He had hung in a hook at the wall a grey cloak and he uses worn, but polished, black leather boots. 

"Very little, sadly. Our initial scouting reports only got a brief glimpse of it, from a distance. Enemy forces were still active in the area, however, so our scouts couldn't be more precise, though there was clearly a large camp located a little ways into those northern hills, just above Fallyran."

"I see, thanks Commander " replies Frenevir already making plans on his head to learn more of that camp and the ways they can destroy it. 

Branwen steps away from the wall. "What do we know Brivensrook? It seems a logical place to plant some operatives who may be able to provide insight into any surviving spy networks working for the Enemy. It may be wise for me to lead a small contingent of the Dahlia to village, then we can begin to move our members along the dark paths inhabited by the Enemy's more secretive agents. Unless, of course, you've got information that points to a better entry point?"

The changeling glances at the other group members. "Other takes on the situation are more than welcome."

Berethir nods. "I knew you were a good asset for this assignment, Branwen. The Dahlia's presence in Brivensrook will be crucial - the locals will know the situation around the bridge best. Their cooperation will be essential if the Alliance moved this way."

“We are not so good at that kind of mission but we can provide magic support for your operatives. Correct me if Iban wrong but our resources may grow too thin if we try to cover two targets at the same time. Even if I fear that the orca will strengthen their position it seems more pressing to obtain information and secure the bridge. We can keep an eye on the orcs but I think that we shouldn’t spread our efforts right now” 

Sorry I haven't been posting been checking the wrong place!

(Captain Ohan, looks over the map, adjusting the longbow on his back, listening to the three speak of potential plans)

"My men are good fighters but we are best as a support group when it comes to engagments (We are a archers), altough if hand to hand fighting is called for we can hold our own. We can stealth through most situations with ease. Brivensrook would seem to be a good outpost to secure to make progress. Do the scouts have any information of what lies beyond the bridge northwest of here?"

"You mean Fallyran? It's another sizeable village - useful as a base of operations, but strategically doubtful. The presence of that orc camp up in the hills above their position makes them an obvious target for raids. In fact, we should have received another report from that region two days ago, but my men haven't yet returned. If nothing comes in by tomorrow, I expect that the orcs spotted them and killed them. Beyond Fallyran, the hills continue northwards into the Badlands until the Frostplains begin, some scores of leagues to the north. The West is largely marsh-lands. Passable, with skilled guides and good weather, but not ideal marching territory. Beyond that, the sea, though few if any inhabit those more desolate lands, especially these days. The Brivensrook bridge is the one sure passage East on this flank of the Alliance's advance. Let that be your priority for now."

(As mentioned in the PM, your decision on overall operations need not be a vote by democracy. Play to your force's strengths, where you feel you can. Rely on each other as needed. Speed counts in the Campaign, as every moment that passes the Enemy regains his strength and tightens his grip on the Westlands!)

"Moving into Brivensrook sounds like a good starting point. (Looking at Branwen and Frenevir) How big are the forces you are all commanding? Is the idea to move all our forces into the town or send small outfits ahead to gather information and before committing everthing forward?

"I am planning to take my troops to scout the bridge to the northwest of here and then move towards Brivenrooks. Will you both be moving your forces straight to Brivensrook?

Branwen nods.

"I can have my people working toward Brivensrook without delay. The Dahlia's down to twenty petals currently, as I had to nip the twenty-first. Spies even crop up amongst other spies, double agents and sympathizers to the Enemy." The changeling pauses for a moment, before adding, "I'd advise you to keep a close eye on your own troops, not because I distrust your judgment. I know all-too-well that the Enemy is becoming more craven as the days pass and he clings to any straw that may afford him an advantage."

Brushing a stray hair out of her eye, Branwen flashes a wry smile. "To Brivensrook, then?"

"We are ready to move " says Frenevir, let's go to Brivensrook. 

(Captain Ohan and his troops head northwest to scout the bridge before heading to Brivensrook.)

Thank you for your patience! It was a long start to the week, but we should be back to more regular entertainment for at least the next few days!

BRIVENSROOK: A handsome village of 400 or so souls, this well-ordered collection of wattle and daub houses lies within a sturdy outer wall of thick palisade, blackened at some parts and clearly battle-worn. A tall clock-tower is clearly visible above the wall, leaning slightly to the North - it's dull chime is easily audible from a mile out. Many of the houses are two storied, and you are approached by a somewhat disorderly troop of fifteen militia in rough homespun and improvised weaponry (farm implements sharpened to lethality by expert hands!) They call out at a distance of fifty feet, looking distrustfully at the gleaming force of the Curumhatar arrayed before them.

Branwen and the Dahlia: 

Ah, the roads - how quaint. Your second, Hallad, now face-changed into a swarthy, garrulous older gentleman, grins at you with broken teeth and gleaming eye. The two of you cut south of the road an hour before the Curumhatar will meet the militia, informed via relay of their imminent arrival from one of your agents already emplaced in the town. Your forces located a likely camping spot, usually reserved for travelling merchants, where no one looks twice at a few new faces in the crowd - perfect to integrate a new personality, and to hear the all the scuttlebutt of small town life. We've got servants in both of town's inns, two civil servants helping in the Mayor's office, four conscripted into the militia, but the majority of the rest of us are currently hiding at a safehouse on the East side of town. There are signs that this hamlet's got Thieves' Guild presence, but we haven't been able to make contact - we're working on that. 

Frenevir and the Curumhatar: "Andairos reports no other movement than our forces on the north side of the road. Same for Feavir to the south." Vasdan, a faithful companion and the closest thing to a lieutenant that your company recognizes (given a very different training background and command structure within the Curumhatar), expresses a sour opinion on the quality of the militia.

"Crude weapons, little signs of discipline - you can barely tell which one is the sergeant by his faded patch. Did these few hold off the presence of the Enemy?" Vasdan softly speaks, his words full of a disdain that is not at all reflected in his voice. As is usual with Vasdan, you assume that his thoughts are both far more wise and balanced than his expression at first suggests.

Captain Ohan and the Dauvin Rangers: You find yourself becoming increasingly comfortable, as you leave the road behind. As relaxing as a good road can be, the Dauvin rangers cover ground far better at their own pace, better across undeveloped territory than even on a paved road. "Easier on your arches too-" concurs Redrik, your squire of nearly a decade, polishing a small buckler as he happily clumps through an open field. The rangers travel in a spread-out formation, each ranger paired with a well armored squire - a deadly partnership on any battlefield. By the time the Curumhatar are met by the town militia, the Rangers have already arrived at the north-bridge to Fallyran, finding it unguarded but intact. The dark woods north of Brivensrook whisper invitingly in the light afternoon breeze, but your training quickly informs you that those woods are far older, and possibly more dangerous, than much else of the terrain you have seen thus far. Old woods, even in tamer, gentler parts of the world, are full of unseen dangers to the uninitiated. In fact, your training, hones nearly to intuition, suggests that unfriendly eyes are watching you from within those dense woods...

“It sounds like we are well positioned, H,” Branwen responds, standing just out of earshot of the main camp. The changeling hobbles near the edge of town, a withered old man in a dusty traveling cloak. As the crooked pair wended their way toward the edge of town, Branwen stooped even further to pick up another stick to add to her pile of kindling. Pointing another piece out to Halland, she says, “A very detailed job, as always.”

As they reach the edge of the village, Branwen pauses. “The guild should be our number one priority, going forward. They’ll have established information networks within the community and in the nearby settlements that we will not have time organize. We need to focus more energy there. Do we have any leads as to where guild members operate? The time is nigh to act, and I plan to take the lead . . . well once we’ve got one anyway.”

Branwen walks alongside Halland, two withered curmudgeons hauling kindling for their fireplaces. 

Ohan meets brieftly with his officers near the bridge as his rangers and squires keep any eye out. "This area appears to me free of the enemy for now but I don't think we should stay here long. Let us move on to scout the bridge north of Brivenrook and then meet up with our allies."

Ohan dismisses his officers and the group and steady pace keeping their eyes open for enemies or clues makes their way east towards the bridge north of Brivenrook.

Branwen: No leads yet, but we're listening close. Unless you've a plan to draw them out? This way to the safe house. Halland indicates a small side street, unobtrusive but carefully watched by another urchin, just barely recognizable as one of yours in disguise. At the far end, a small, boarded up shop has been repurposed for your operatives. There is also the matter of the mayor - unfriendly to outsiders by policy, and apparently completely absent from his offices for some weeks. Since Caermor, some say, though I am still waiting on confirmation of that snippet... 

Ohan: *Clarity question: You are currently at the bridge north of Brivensrook - do you intend to scout the North bank of the river past the bridge? Or just set up a watch there for the time being?

Planning to set up a watch on the southern side of the bridge at the moment.

* DM Question, is this bridge visible from Castle Talman?