Session 33 -- Dingle All The Way

In the misty hills west of Castlelemaine, Dwårfy, Jack, Tiv, Ceangal, Murchad, and Vedica trudged along a winding road, their destination the coastal town of Dingle. Their rune-etched longswords began to glow and hum, a warning of undead nearby. Vedica, sharp-eyed, spotted a wight in the distance, not a zombie as first thought. The party braced for combat, their blades gleaming under the dim sky.

Tiv, a cleric, took the lead, channeling divine power to turn the undead. With a roll of fate, she disintegrated the wight before it could close the distance. The group, ready to resume their journey, noticed that the blades had not stopped alerting to the undead. Murchad, ever cautious, scanned the horizon, while Dwårfy grumbled about his limited view, his stout frame hindering his sightline. Ceangal, wielding a lightning sword, swung at shadows, missing more often than not, much to the group’s amusement. Jack kept watch, ready to strike at any movement.

And that's when they heard the wailing. Three more wights attacked them as the banshee's wail pierced through to their very souls. Vedica, overcome with fear, bolted off to the north, and the banshee swooped down from a rocky outcropping to pounce on her.

Murchad and Dwårfy ran up a hill toward a wight only to realize that there were two concealed there. Jack and Ceangal did not have much luck with the one they chose to pursue. Tiv ran after Vedica to try to help.

As the party dealt with the wights, Ceangal and then the others ran down to help Vedica with the banshee.  Eventually, all the undead were dispatched, and the party resumed their travel to Dingle.  Murchad claimed two of the wights' magical swords to sell later on.

The party reached Dingle’s northeast edge at about 1 AM. They started looking for an inn.  They enventually found one, but near the front door was a large barricade. A ruffian confronted them, hopping down off the barricade, accusing them of breaking curfew. He wanted a 50gp curfew tax. When the party told them that they weren't from town and had just arrived, making it impossible to even know about the curfew, much less adhere to it.  With that, the ruffian called up to the other six thugs atop the barricade. They told the party there was an additional 100gp out-of-towner tax.

Murchad, stepping forward, glared with such menace that the thug backed down, waving them toward an inn. The innkeeper, nervous and harried, ushered them inside, whispering of the town’s plight under Cormac McRory, a tyrant backed by an ogre mage. He spoke of a curfew enforced by thugs and a resistance struggling to survive. The party, exhausted, paid a hundred gold for a room and rested, though Vedica’s exhaustion from a prior banshee attack required hours of recovery.

At dawn, the adventurers emerged, determined to free Dingle. The innkeeper’s sparse breakfast fueled their resolve, and they learned Cormac frequented the docks, the town’s commercial heart. It was fortunate that the marina was their destination anyway, as they needed a boat to get to Skellig Michael. As they moved south, they encountered another barricade manned by three guards in patched militia gear. Jack, striding forward, ignored their shouts to retreat, his crossbow raised. The clash erupted. Tiv’s sling stone cracked a guard’s temple, sending him staggering. Vedica, cloaked in invisibility, slipped around the barricade, silent as a shadow. Jack’s bolt buried itself in a guard’s shoulder, and Murchad’s shot pierced another’s chest, felling him. Before long, the thugs from near the inn joined in, flanking the party. Dwårfy, cursing his short stature, scrambled up the barricade, his hammer missing its mark. Ceangal’s lightning sword sent an electric bolt wide, prompting Murchad’s quip, “Try hitting the broad side of a boat next time!” The guards’ arrows grazed Murchad’s arm, but Dwårfy’s hammer crushed a guard’s chest, and Murchad’s bolt ended the last. The street fell quiet, the barricade theirs, though the clash’s echo drew eyes from the south.

Pressing on, the party faced another barricade at a cross street, guarded by three militia men in sharper uniforms. A guard’s shout—“You’re trouble!”—and an arrow sparked the fight. Tiv’s sling stone sailed wide, caught in the morning glare. Vedica, invisible, glided closer, eyeing a green-clad guard. Jack’s bolt struck the man’s side, making him wince. Dwårfy’s hammer sent another guard reeling, while Ceangal’s sword again missed, earning another jab from Murchad, “Stick to polishing that blade.” Murchad’s bolt pierced the green guard’s heart, dropping him. The guards’ arrows missed, one nicking Murchad. Tiv’s mace swung wide, but Vedica, breaking invisibility, grazed a guard with an arrow. Jack’s shot toppled him, and Dwårfy’s hammer crushed the last, leaving the barricade silent. An arrow thudded into a nearby crate, a warning from the south that the fight wasn’t over.

From a southern barricade, four guards emerged, crossbows trained on Vedica, now visible. Arrows struck her armor, drawing a gasp. Tiv’s sling stone missed, and Vedica’s return shot pierced a guard’s throat, dropping him. Jack’s bolt sailed wide, and Murchad’s misfired. Ceangal, scaling the barricade, landed a rare blow, his sword drawing blood. The guards struckVedica again, but she stood firm, her arrow felling another. Dwårfy’s hammer smashed a third guard, and Ceangal’s blade struck true. The final guard fled into an alley, leaving the street still. But as soon as they progressed a little further south, they noticed piles of corpses in the town square. It was as if a dozen or more townspeople had been lined up along the walls and shot with crossbows. As they rounded a corner to get away from that sight, Tiv and Dwårfy encountered another three guards, and combat resumed.

The party was split, with Jack, Vedica, and Murchad atop the western barricade they had taken from the thugs, one of whom ran off. It was then that they realized that they were perfect targets for the next barricade to the south. A missile attack battle ensued between the two barricades.

Ceangal ran in between the two and shot up at the archers there while Tiv and Dwårfy battled the guards they had found.  No sooner had the archers been dispatched, then a loud crack from an arquebus wounded Jack while two arrows missed Vedica. Ceangal couldn't see to help, as he was low, in between the two barricades, but Vedica and Jack could see two archers and a captain with an arquebus on yet another barricade beyond the one they had just cleared of archers.

Murchad and Ceangal rushed to help Tiv and Dwårfy, but as they neared their location, a door swung open, and Cormac McRory, in gleaming plate mail, stormed out with a towering ogre mage and a yet another guard, bellowing, “What the hell is going on out here?” The ogre’s fireball engulfed Murchad, Dwårfy, Tiv, and Ceangal, flames searing their skin. Murchad’s dragon scale armor shielded him, but Ceangal crumpled, staggering upright, pale.

Tiv’s mace missed a guard, and Vedica, atop crates, fired wide. Jack’s bolt grazed Cormac, drawing a snarl, while Dwårfy’s hammers thudded into the ogre, making it roar. Murchad charged in, and his poison-tipped bolt slowed the beast. The guard’s blade nicked Dwårfy, and Cormac’s arrow struck Jack’s side, but the ogre’s club missed Murchad. Tiv’s sling dropped the guard, and Vedica’s arrow struck another target. Jack and Dwårfy felled the ogre, its club thudding down. Cormac faced a barrage—Jack’s bolts, Murchad’s poison, and Dwårfy’s hammers brought him down.  

With the town liberated (or so the party thought), the adventurers looted the fallen, finding little beyond standard gear, although the captain's arquebus charges were claimed by Jack with glee. The streets, littered with corpses, bore witness to their fierce battle. Murchad could see boats up ahead, and he suggested "borrowing" one in order to avoid any further delay looking for its owner. He offered to leave the two magical swords as payment where the boat they chose was tied up.

As they approached the docks, however, intending to sail to Skellig Michael, militia shouted from the other side of the marina, questioning their permission to take a boat. Murchad’s intimidating glare silenced them, and the party “borrowed” a vessel, setting sail for their next adventure, leaving Dingle’s hopefully-freed townsfolk in their wake.