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Two ghouls arrived and a shambler. The party fought them. And they used light (off paladin wannabe Jabu's shield).
Beyond the clear spot was more of the scraggly alpine forest. They settled down for the rest of the night.
Skeletons started to arrive. These were easily dealt with (Turn Undead ability of Bookem) but it meant they got no rest. After two hours and ten single skeletons, they scarpered back over the cleared area - on the way they smashed one of the cairn skulls to little bits - and spent another hour to go further away. The rest of the night passed peacefully.
The next day they moved up onto one of the sides of the valley, and found a cave where they set up camp. They could get views of the cleared area (the Cairn Line) in the valley below and the castle up the top of the valley about 10km in the distance. The skull they had smashed had a group of figures clustered around it.
The party checked to see if the Cairn Line extended up the valley sides and over the ridge; it does, and there was a skull cairn right on the top.
Much discussion ensued. They psi-contacted Captain Osterman.
Osterman & Co had now made base in Goldenton and was amassing the Specularum army on the plains outside Goldenton ready to advance. The Specularum big cheeses were congregating there too.
"Get into the castle now!" yelled Osterman through the psi conference-call link. "We can't move until you bastards have scoped in there."
The Wizards' Guild was too scared to send in their own flying ops, after what had happened to the last one. And noone else had remote capabilities, so it was up to the party's reconnaissance.
"We need more gear," the party whined, terrified. "Send WG teleport coordinates, we'll send some stuff through - you have a wizard I believe (the captive Kristie)." "She can't see the sun, it is overcast." There was a dark pall over the whole area.
Aside: Wizards can use their personal chronometer, the sun, the date, and tables from the Wizards' Almanac (in the back of all spell books) to relay accurate coordinates of any spot on the Known World - accurate enough for another wizard to Teleport to (TPS coordinates - Teleport Positioning System). However - they do need to see the sun to do this.
"Well, get to that castle with what you have, you cowards!" screamed Osterman. The psi-link broke off.
The party discussed, and they decided to send fat Stanley back to Goldenton, on the broom. Goldenton, they guessed, was about 200km away, so at broom speed, 18km/h, this trip would take 11 hours. He left the next morning. Starting low and hugging the treetops, he slowly gained height the further away from the castle he got.
It was an uneventful trip. He did see some gnoll patrols on the ground below, a group of ogres and some bugbears. Over Hickford, he could see that the lizardmen had fortified the left side of the Hick river.
The last few leagues, Stanley was escorted to (a big "B" on the ground in) Goldenton by another two wizard broom interceptors, and then taken to Captain Osterman's War Council room. In here were all the big cheeses: the main priests of the major religions from Specularum, the head of the WG, and head of the psioncists (scowling at each other across the table), and some pasty representatives from the Locksmiths' Association.
Osterman was livid.
"What the hell are YOU doing here?!"
The gist was: "We're too scared. We're too weedy. We need concealing magicks. We want ..."
Osterman was disgusted. He wanted to send Stanley back with nothing. But the WG offered some items: a Cloak of Elvin Kind, some Boots of Elvin kind, a Ring of Ultravision, and a Teleport GPS ball. The REAL priests offered a healing staff. So Osterman relented and chucked in some magical weapons, including a Flame Tongue Double Sword that just happened to be lying around.
Stanley headed back again with all the booty. Starting high, and getting lower and lower as he approached, finally skimming the treetops again. About an hour from the party, he crossed over a ridge, and caught a glimpse of something black and winged, leaving the castle, heading in his rough direction.
The party, still in their camp, saw this black thing (a cross between wyvern and pteranodon, and made of shadow) fly over their position, very fast, heading off in a Funken-Anti direction. The air grew cold as it passed.
Stanley wet himself, dived, landed and crawled into a log. The air grew cold. Then there was a frightful roaring noise and the clash of arms.
This carried on for a little while, so he braved a look outside, then crawled out. He was near a bluff. Down in the forest below, this black winged-thing was fighting a group of bugbears. They soon fled, with the thing in pursuit.
The thing began to circle again. Stanley crawled back to hide in his log.
It eventually flew off, so he thought.
Rather than risking any flight, he completed the rest of his trip on foot (sensible). This took four and a half hours, so he arrived well into the night.
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