Wanting to stay off the streets as much as possible, we risked a quick flight, staying just above the level of the rooftops. This time, when the aura or whatever it was that the mobs gave off that interfered with flight hit us, it was a drop of only a couple feet to the roof of a merchant’s shop, which we all managed easily, and without making too much noise. That was good, because there were a LOT of infected people gathering around the besieged area.
And it was indeed a siege. The mob, barely thinking enough to be considered sentient at this point, pounded upon the stone walls that had risen around the city, uncaring about the damage they dealt themselves in the process. The conjured stone created barriers that surrounded ten buildings, with no gaps or gates. The nearest buildings outside the perimeter had all burned to the ground, though whether that was due to the mob or the defenders, it was impossible to say.
The mob beating against the walls was a veritable army, numbering in the hundreds, at least. They had spread out around the walls, thinking of nothing but breaking through, to where the remaining unafflicted populace was. Thankfully, we were still far enough away that they could not see us. Yet.
But that wasn’t going to last. We needed to get past the mob, preferably without getting torn to pieces or getting infected. Unfortunately, as soon as we started laying in with spells, the mob would be aware of us, and give chase. This left us with several options, all of them bad.
Well, not ‘bad’, as in ‘not likely to succeed’. More like ‘bad’, as in ‘I don’t want to do this’. The mob was fairly slow to move, relatively speaking. I could easily outrun them, even if I wasn’t taking wing. That meant that, if I served as bait, I could easily lead the mob away, before turning invisible and doubling back.
In theory.
Unfortunately, theory didn’t always line up with fact, something that I was all too familiar with. Even more unfortunately, my playing bait was still the best of the bad options we had available to us. Even if I couldn’t fly, I could still turn invisible, or do one of any number of things to get away from the mob. Out of all of us, I was the one who had the best chance of not getting caught.
And we needed to get into the records, and see how far this abomination had spread. To do that, we needed to get past the mobs, and into the walled-off area. Which meant we needed to clear a path. That’s just how things were.
Melinda’s Move Silently Check: 1d20+14 = 19
Ebonheart’s Move Silently Check: 1d20+29 = 32
Siora’s Move Silently Check: 1d20+12 = 23
Vestele’s Move Silently Check: 1d20+9 = 49
Fartooth’s Move Silently Check: 1d20+40 = 47
Zinlana’s Move Silently Check: 1d20+14 = 28
Soulblight Mob’s Listen check: 1d20+16 = 18 (Fail)
We moved quickly and quietly, more emphasis on quietly than anything else. The mob was focused on the wall, and the people they knew were behind it. As long as we didn’t do something stupid, like set off explosions or the like, they shouldn’t pay us any mind. Not until we got closer, at least.
But we weren’t going to get that close. The closest building to the wall that hadn’t burned to the ground was about eighty feet from the wall. There were the remains of two burnt houses between it and the wall, which put the mob at about sixty feet from us, as we climbed up the back-side of the looted house.
That, thankfully, was not an issue. The magic for ‘spider climb’ was low-level, a staple of many young casters, for the sheer utility it offered when adventuring. The only one of us who didn’t have access to the spell, or an effect like it, on our gear was Zinlana, and Siora simply cast the spell on her directly.
Looking out on the mob, which stretched on, around the sides of the wall, looking to encircle the enclave itself, I had to sigh. This was a tall order, even for us. Even with my speed, a mob that size could try and entrap me. And, without the ability to fly, I would be in big trouble if that happened.
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We were just about to set what amounted to our plan in motion when Fartooth stopped us. “Wait. Elf on wall, waving.”
Sure enough, there was an elf on the wall, waving at us to get our attention. His white hair suggested that he was old, even for an elf, and dressed in plate armor that looked to be made of some kind of wood. Probably some form of magical wood. That would fit with elves and their love of their forests. In his hand, he held a longbow, but I could see an axe of some kind on his belt, and a shield slung behind his back. Details were a bit spotty, since he was some distance from us, but that much I could see clearly.
Siora smiled, and said, “Let me use a cantrip to tell him our intentions.” None of us objected, obviously, because having the people on the other side of the wall know that we were coming was just fine by us. That way, they were less likely to think that we were part of the horde that had broken through, and do something stupid in a panic.
Oh, not that anyone would normally see six individuals of various races, not covered with boils and other hideous marks, and say that we were part of those mobs. Not even orcs were that stupid. However, fighting for your lives, and the lives of those around you, can put people on edge, and being under siege never helps things like that. It is all too easy to react to unexpected changes with a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ mentality. And we knew that there was at least one old spellcaster in the enclave, and old spellcasters were usually powerful ones, so it was best to avoid any misunderstandings.
Siora cast her spell, and whispered a message under her breath. A moment later, I saw the elf wave, and turn to jump down from the wall. Siora turned to us, and said, “Well, that went well. I explained that we were from Ah Alora, as scouts, and he said to wait, and he’d get someone called Stonewall. He’s in charge, apparently.”
Zinlana nodded. “Nindrol of the Stonewall was a general, in his day, before he retired. If he survived the initial chaos, then him stepping up to take command, at least until the army can be brought in, is not unexpected. As I said before, these walls are most likely his doing. Even if they required several spells, there has never been a better barrier mage in Silverwood than the Stonewall.”
I took a breath. “All right, if this Stonewall is a powerful mage, then I suggest we wait, and see if he has any suggestions for getting us into the enclave. The horde hasn’t noticed us, yet, and so long as we don’t do anything to get their attention, it isn’t likely they’ll notice us, not when they know there’s living people on the other side of the wall.”
Seeing no objections, I looked at the Beguiler. “Siora, if I might call upon your magics again? A Sending spell to our good Captain would be good. I’d rather he lift off and keep a stable orbit of the town than leaving him on the ground, where these things might get to him. Warn him about that aura that kept us from flying close to the mob.”
Zinlana cut in. “Much as it pains me to seek aid from the undead, they do have mages aboard, and could prove useful in a bombardment, even if the ship does not land. What is important is protecting those of the enclave, and having more weapons at hand will make that task all the easier.”
Vestele nodded. “I think the range we got pulled out of the sky the first time was a bit less than four hundred feet from the edge of the mob, but we were flying higher than the second time we met them. That time, we were just about four hundred feet out. Keeping that in mind, the aura is likely a dome, or sphere, that prevents those close-by from flying away, but if the Captain flies above four hundred feet, then he should be easily out of the aura’s grasp.”
Siora nodded, and took a moment to figure out how to condense all of that into the twenty-five words allowed by the Sending spell. She settled on, ‘Melinda says lift off when able. Circle enclave in north of town. Stay above four hundred feet or ship may be pulled from sky.’ It sounded terse, but the limits of the magic were well known, so only the most stupid of leaders grumbled about the lack of courtesy in a Sending.
Of course, Sending itself was a fifth-level spell, making it something that only decently powerful casters could use without relying on magical items. And those who could afford to devote more than one of their precious spell slots a day to the spell were rare. Usually, they fell into the role of support mages, and were often seen in the military, where their role of being able to quickly and concisely send information across the country, possibly even across the planes, was a boon beyond measure. A horse could ride far and fast across open ground, but with the Sending spell, an army could be gathered and on the march days before a messenger on horseback could reach them.
We did not have to wait too long before we spotted movement on the wall. The old elf in armor was back, alongside an elf that looked, well, positively ancient. He wore a mage’s robes, and leaned heavily on his staff as he walked along the walls, though I could see a sword hanging from his belt, as well. Clearly, this had to be Nindrol of the Stonewall.
Looking at him, even from a distance, stirred something in me, an ancient memory of my old life. Twenty years was a long time, and my memories of my old world had faded over the years, especially as I threw myself into living in this new world. But I did remember a scene from a movie. Of an old wizard with a grey beard, wearing a mage’s robes and a hat who used both sword and staff in combat. But I couldn’t remember the name.
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. That world was gone. I wouldn’t see it again until I died and was reborn, if what I was told of the ‘twice-born’ was true. If I didn’t want to jump straight to that, it was best to focus on the here and now.
A voice full of power whispered in my ear, and I could see at a glance that everyone else heard it, too. “Oh, ho. Visitors to our humble farming community, and at such an opportune time. I am Nindrol of the Stonewall. Who are you?”
I could tell it was the same cantrip that Siora had used earlier, so I took a breath, and whispered back, “We are adventurers. Returned Princess Findelye to her homeland while heading to other lands. We flew from Ah Alora to investigate reports of a plague.”
The mage nodded once. Then, I saw him casting a spell. Part of me worried about an attack, but I did not think we had done anything to warrant one. The elves were desperate, not stupid.
My thoughts were proved correct as a bridge of translucent blackness sprang into being between the rooftop we stood on and the wall. An obvious invitation if ever I saw one. Unfortunately, the mob also saw it, and were intelligent enough to know what it meant. They turned as one, and began heading for the building we were standing on.
We needed to get into the enclave. The hard way was like we had planned, running across the dead and dying city to try and bait the mob away long enough to climb the wall. The easy way was before us.
We chose the easy way.