/lousy thread! Get back up there! I'll Bump you good!!!
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The party turned to see Winterbourne hard pressed by three Arwanite warriors. Already bleeding from the first strike she was undoubtedly going to lose.
With a battlecry the group convergend on the foes, dragging their attention off of the lady Paladin, who collapsed to the ground. Arcalan waited till the party had surrounded the Arwanites, and too advantage of their tactical error by summoning a spirit to slay them. The mystical force of the spirit bored down into their skulls, sending blood gushing from facial wounds. The pain in their heads increased as the spirit's wrath slit open their flesh and and spilt their lifeblood on the ground. The infiltraitors struck hard and fast, gouging deep wounds in their enemies, and brother Doxial swung his quarterstaff with rightious anger. In a few seconds the Arwanites who had lain in ambush were dead, and Carys the Cleric was helping the Baroness to her feet again.
"This is a dangerous place to split up" remarked Arcalan.
"We should press on to the West camp" remarked the Baroness, clutching her rapidly healing wound. Carys chanted a few more prayers and the pain disappeared.
The company moved off in good spirits. They were confident in their abilities and had pocketed a few coins from the Arwanites already slain. The second camp again proved nearly empty save a lone Shamaness, brewing some concoction. Again the infiltraitors moved in closer but initial reports proved true. This woman was alone. At Winterbourne's command the three infiltraitors turned from shadows into assassins. Their blades ended the Shamaness' life in an instant, and keeling her forward into the pot muffled her death-cries. The soup bubbled over the side merrily, and sizzled as it hit the fire.
The third camp was neared as Dawn broke, and the reddish tint of the sky added an eerie glow to the snow. Already it was much colder here, and occasional patches of snow crunched underfoot. The Arawnites were easily spotted this time, gathered at the side of a small lake, with a collection of tents that looked to have been put together in haste. Little time was spent on planning an attack, as an Arwanite on the hillside spotted the strangers movement towards the camp. A great howl went up, and many Arawnite warriors charged towards the company, their Shamaness' casting spells of blessing upon them as they went to meet their foe. In the name of Lord Arawn they would spread death or else enjoy it's touch.
The battle ranged on for some minutes, and several of the warriors lay dead. Carys prayed feverently for the protection of her party, and the two paladins chanted hyms as they waded into battle. Arcalan stood back and picked targets further back. A quick curse twisted the muscles in their legs so that they could not move, and then she turned her attention on the knot of melee ahead of her. Brother Doxial had again taken to smiting the foe with his staff, and was making short work of a Shamaness heathen as she tried to invoke her pagan gods. Arcalan unleashed her spell again and the results were the same, blood gushed from open wounds, and her Golem sucked the life force from her foes.
Finally the camp was cleared, only the company stood in the aftermath, bloodied and battered. They paused to refresh themselves before going onwards, and Winterbourne murmered her surpirse at the fletching on an arrow she found.
"This bird's feathers.. I don't recognise them at all... this is most strange"
She resolved to make for Sursbrooke, where a fletcher was known to be quite an expert in his trade. He'd soon identify the fletching.
They made off for Sursbrooke, and as they left snowdonia behind them Sir Racius of Shroud joined their ranks.
"Hail" he said "I have news of Saelonna, the Arwanite witch"
Winterbourne gave a firm salute "Hail and well met. Tell us good paladin, what have you learnt?"
Racius reported what some guards at the Mile Gate to Hibernia noticed, that some elves were taking an Arwanite woman to their Keep. The woman in question was no doubt Saelonna. On this information the party made it's way out towards the Mile Gate, avoiding the battle that had brewed behind them. The forces of Albion seemed prepared to repell the invaders, and new Albion forces were pouring into the area to liberate Caer Benowyc.
Winterbourne pressed ahead, insisting on the important of the mission at hand. Further reports placed the Arwanite witch at the camp of the Templar Knights, who stood near the Mile Gate, on the Hibernian side, and were known not to take sides in realm warfare.
Passing the remnants of a battel at the Gate, the company pressed on until Racius led them to the Templar Camp.
"She was last seen at this wall, not long ago if our scouts are certain of their report. Wait here while I scout ahead a little" said the paladin "I do fear Hibernian enemies are common here"
At this Winterbourne cracked a small smile, as if daring a foe to attack. Racius left, and some minutes passed. The Templars regarded the srtangers with indifference, and Arcalan climbed to the top of a ruined section of wall to keep look-out. A movement at the corner of her eye told her one of the infiltraitors had the same idea, and together they looked out towards the Hibernian keep and the road.
They were startled from their vigil by a loud roar, and some oath in a foreign tongue. Behind them a Celtic warrior charged at them, her armor resplendant in the midday sun.
Winterbourne drew her sword, and then fled some distance, while the others sought to engage the foe. As Arcalan unleashed a could of acidic mist at the assailant she heard a voice ring loud and clear:
"
es! Now my Celtic ally! Kill them all!"
It was the voice of Winterbourne the Baroness of Snowdonia.
