Enfys swipes the keys from the very thoroughly slain general and begins unlocking the chained paragons. After everyone is unlocked, she and Myran set about treating the wounded and over-extended. You see the one Enfys referred to as Declan refusing treatment until everyone else has been treated.
Finally, Enfys begins treating Declan for a laceration on his left shoulder and blunt trauma on his rib-cage. Declan says to Enfys: “Okay, remind me. How many times have you saved my hide now. I’ve lost count.”
Enfys holds up four fingers in one hand while palpating his ribcage with the other “Now stop talking until I check you for broken ribs. I know you may not care if one of them punctures a lung, but I’ve got limited healing magic and I’d rather not make it five times just yet.”
Declan cracks a smile and says “Don’t be like that. Then we’d be even. By the way, I have a renewed empathy for that sore spot on your left shoulder. Fuckers marked me this morning.”
Enfys replies: “Yeah, branding sucks a mind-flayers left nut. As for being even, the Arkali business in Norallis doesn’t count and the rescue from that mining company in Heptus was Myran’s idea.”
Enfys gestures to you and says: “Declan, these are the new kids. Lorraine’s a damn good sorceress and makes the devils asshole of explosives. Brill is an unscourged orc and I wouldn’t recommend drinking with him if you like your liver. Cade is a cheeky little shit who can backstab with the best of them, though I’d keep an eye on your wallet around him. Irythan is deadly with a bow or a sword and I would not recommend challenging him from horseback or as a necromancer.”
Declan looks you over and says: “I though they’d be prettier. Never mind, can’t be too picky. Fate of the world and all that.”
Freefeather swoops down from the sky and whispers in harxen’s ear. Harxen swears in Sylvan and says “Freefeather just got back from a sky-scout. Apparently a legion of Fask troops is heading this way. They heard the explosions. The destroyed bridge will delay them long enough for us to get away, but I’m afraid we’ll have to go back to Weslyth. I know a shortcut through the woods that will get us to another bridge so we can cross this gorge, but we have to move now. I know we still need to liberate that prison, but we’re in no shape to do it right now. I know a place we can stay for the night before heading back tomorrow.”
Harxen cuts a path through the brush and leads you and your friends down it. Declan covers the rear with a stolen musket. You travel through the brush for about two hours and an hour after dark, you come to a ridge overlooking a small lake surrounded by campfires and torchlit criss-crossing paths. Harxen drops pack and says “Orthanlynis Teth’lorax.”
A small cadre of druids emerges from the treeline. Most appear in their early 40’s, but there are a few who look older. The eldest looking is an elven woman appearing to be in her mid 60’s. She has gray hair and emerald green eyes that seem to flap in the wind rather than twinkle in the torch-light. She wears a short, green robe over hide armor and carries a sickle.
“Hello, fellow children of Orthalyn. My name is Retanna Shialis and I am the elder of this circle. Come with me and I’ll get you set up with shelter. We can’t offer much, but you’re open to our hospitality.”
Trees from both the top and bottom of the ridge move their branches to form a ladder to the bottom. Retanna begins to climb down and beckons you to follow. At the bottom, you see a small camp set up in the trees. Hammocks hang from the limbs and you see druids and rangers sharing meals and playing regicide on platforms erected on the branches and around the trunks. Some are having sex in the forest canopy and others are skinny-dipping in the brook. Animals move freely about chasing each-other. Even the trees appear to be moving about by their own will. You have never seen so much life in one place.
Retanna invites you to a campfire where the brook meets the lake and ladles each of you a bowl of stew. “So,” she says, “I would guess by the cuts and bruises you sport and the gunpowder on your hands that you had something to do with the Fask caravan being attacked. I take it you’re heading back to Weslyth to re-group, correct?”
Retanna clears your empty bowls and sets them in the brook. “Get some rest,” she says “Sleeping in these hammocks will heal your wounds. I’d recommend leaving at dawn.”
Retanna walks to a tree and clambers up the branches as though she was walking up the trunk. You bundle up in your hammocks and feel the day’s adventures catching up with you.
As you sleep, you have another dream. You’re on a Bastion dreadnought over open water. The air is uncomfortably warm and extremely humid. You and your comrades are wearing bastion naval armor and those around you are calling you by names you don’t recognize. You hear a man from the crow’s nest yell “Starboard side! Red sails, three ships inbound.” You look Starboard and see three arkali corvettes with the sails dyed rust-red. Arkali boarding parties are crowding the bow of each ship rattling shields and brandishing axes.
The captain of your ship gives the order to load all cannons and ram the center ship. Your auxiliary sails unfurl and the helmsman changes wind direction by magic. Your ship hits the Arkali corvette head-on and jolts to a stop, flinging you onto the deck. Your captain orders a counter-boarding and your other shipmates lift you to your feet and hand you weapons. Among the cannon-fire with the other two ships, you leap onto the ship you just rammed. You hear leathery wingbeats from the sky loud enough to drown out the bedlam and cannon-fire around you.
“We need help over here!” You spring up, thinking it was another Bastion sailor. After a moment, you realize that you’re no longer dreaming.
“Get down here! He’s not breathing” (heal check dc 12, can take 10)
You find an elf laying supine on the ground. He has no pulse and you see extensive injuries consistent with a fall. The druid who called for you says he was unconscious, but alive when he got here. She says he was brought back here by a scouting party so he could be healed and she had sent for a healer when he stopped breathing. She says healing magic doesn’t work unless the recipient is breathing.
You begin compressions on his chest and enfys casts mage hand to push air into his lungs. After a minute and a half, he begins breathing again and you can feel a pulse. Retanna steps in and casts cure critical wounds. The elf regains consciousness.
Chris can now take control of his character