Scene 1 – Broken Tower.
Characters: Vaultsmith, Alynthalae, Ro, Zekiel
Time: dead of night.
The characters awaken in an unfamiliar location, bathed in fading blue light. On the walls around them blue sigils are fading away. As similar blue markings upon their bodies fade away, they feel as if a mental fog is slipping away. The players do not know one another or have any indication of how long they have been asleep or where they might be. Each has recollections of their last moments of consciousness, but they almost seem like a distant dream.
As the last of the glow begins to fade away, the blue light is replaced by the silver light of a full moon visible through the missing roof and floors of the tower’s shell within which they have awoken. As the players begin to move around their hear a fierce howl in the distance and a whimpering and gurgling outside the tower’s door. Zekiel moves forward, looking out the barred window, seeing the broken body of a man in mages robes strewn across a warding circle formed of the same blue light as the sigils that had bound them. The wards pulse with the blood coursing from the mage’s ruined throat. As a last gout rains upon the ground about the mage, the last of the light fades. The group can see that hey are in a small clearing in a large wooded area. In the distance they can hear the screams of a man, the howl of a wolf, and then sudden silence.
Within the tower, the group briefly checks their surroundings and begin to ask each other questions. Zekiel, a man of action, tires of their fumbling attempts at communication, and ripping a large iron bar from the door holding them in their prison, smashes his way out of the tower. As he stands heaving in the door way, Vaultsmith ghosts past him, checking the body briefly before noticing that he is being watched from across the glade by a huge white wolf. As he tries to figure out what to do, the wolf turns and vanishes into the woods ahead, from which spills the flickering light of a campfire.
Vaultsmith and Zekiel head towards the light. As the hulking frame of the barbarian and the slight thief lope towards the glade ahead, Ro tentatively emerges from the tower. She notices the mage upon the ground and rummages through his belongings, pocketing some minor gear and a small purse of coins. Lastly she finds a pair of blades hidden in the mages sleeves and rolling the body over, finds the mages implement, a small totem fetish. Somewhat reluctantly, Ro follows after the men.
As the last of the large and ungainly bodies leaves the clearing, Alythalae, ignites her pixie magic and, glowing merrily, emerges from the rubble in the tower, whirring through the cold air towards her erstwhile fellow captives, keeping to the shadows of the trees.
Zekiel bursts into the camp area, eschewing any form of stealth, gripping his bludgeon tightly. Feverishly taking in his surroundings, seeking to identify anything or anybody in dire need of being broken, Zekial sees a campsite in ruin. There are dead and partially eaten bodies laying all around the camp. To the left he sees a serious of destroyed wagons bearing equally ravaged cages, their horses missing. More importantly, directly in front of him, Zekiel sees prey. Not easy prey, mind you, the wolf is easily larger than Zekiel. But as Zekiels blood rises, that hardly seems important. Just before Zekiel charges, there is a serious of howls from far off. The Wolf in front of him raises its blood-stained muzzle the sky and returns the howl before turning and bounding off through the woods. Not the be ingnored by his prey, Zekiel runs after it.
Vaultsmith saw the barbarian burst into the camp, briefly look around, then run off from the cover of the trees. When both wolf and barbarian were gone, Vaultsmith eased himself into the clearning, noting that to the right and among the dead, various equipment and supplies were strewn. Perusing the bounty, some of it broken, he salvaged packs, a few weapons, including a bow, and some arming gear. He left the food stuffs and drink as it was all fouled by wolf piss or strewn about the ground. The wolves must not have wanted to leave any survivors any means by which to easily sustain themselves or to escape if the state of the provisions and wagons were any gauge. After scouring what he though he could, he followed after the barbarian, not really sure what else to do other to follow after.
Just before he left the camp, the pixie decided to make her presence known. The fact that the thief now possessed equipment the diminutive sorceress could desperately use had no little bearing on this decision. After a very brief exchange of words and goods, the two set out after the barbarian.
Ro’s investigation of the mage’s body meant that by the time she reached the camp, noone was there, either friend of foe. Though she had heard the cries of the wolves and the answer of one from very close by, they, too were absent. As she ventured through the camp and through the trees on the other side, she found herself on a low rise above a grassy plain. Beyond the nearly shoulder high blades of grass, she could see a town in the distance, perhaps a few miles off. In the middle distance she saw the two men that had been confined with her in the tower racing towards the town along with a glowing mote. Ro also saw that they were not alone. A large number of things were racing through the tall grasses parallel to the group, looking like sharks moving through waters she had seen once in her childhood while traveling on a ship. Rather than angling towards the group however, the lines joined many, many others in bearing straight towards the town itself. If the town wasn’t already in trouble, it might be soon. How did she feel about sticking out her neck for people she had never even met – be it her fellow captives or the townsfolk? With her skills she could easily survive in the wilderness until she found her way back to home, where ever it was now. With a sigh, she began to lope down the road after the others.