Urfengar: Dwarven Purgatory - Curtain Call

We quickly journeyed back to Ossington in search of his companions. On the way into town, we stopped at a shrine dedicated to all Neutral gods. There Thelonious told me that he felt premonitions of a great evil and decided to take a vow of silence at the altar of St. Cuthbert. Unfortunately, that vow did not lend us the great support Thelonious had hoped for.

We met up with his friends only to learn that Llan had been slain, and the village of Ossington was really in dire straits. The people were starving, and some ghostly rider was attacking anyone who tried to work their fields or leave town for supplies. Making matters worse, a group of wild elves was seemingly in league with the rider. The villagers told us that anytime someone tried to go out and negotiate with the elves, they were attacked on sight. Thelonious' friends also told us that as they'd been traveling through the forests, the trees had spoken (creepy!) to the druid and warned the party that they were not welcome.

We learned that Llan was slain by an earth elemental as the heroes tried to find answers at the grave of some great, local hero. There were many traps and marauding creatures in the burial mound, and the hero's ghost had little useful information to tell them. The party was understandably very dispirited.

We decided to take our chances and try to negotiate with the elves. We set out for the elven stronghold, but had only traveled a short time when the trees started attacking. Being more of an underground-dwelling type, I was quite shaken by this turn of events but did manage to keep my feet, unlike poor Thelonious. Who could blame him, though? It was pure bedlam. We were surrounded by elves and their treant friends, and we could hear an invisible attacker casting spells from somewhere nearby. I wasn't sure we would make it through the battle.

Moradin finally blessed me with the insight to dispel all magic in the area, which turned out to be something of a turning point in the melee. The invisible attacker turned out to be a pixie which was quickly pinned to a tree by one of the archers in our party. That freed up Azraiel to start launching lightning attacks at the trees, while Jackle and Rath started showing the elves what real fighting is about. And suprise, surprise, the druid starts screaming at us for attacking the trees.

I thought about knocking her over the head with my warhammer, but I caught her yammering something about a "big misunderstanding." The biggest tree I've ever seen had appeared on the scene and was taking giant swipes at our front line. The half-elven wizardess managed to light it on fire, but I decided to give the druid a chance to talk things through. So I called on Moradin to drop some water on the big tree.

Gnarlroot, as the tree's name turned out to be, was so surprised by this, that it stopped attacking. The druid starting doing her thing, and pretty soon she tells us she wants to translate for the trees. It turns out that some former adventurers were running things in the village - only they were reaping the benefits of some old druidic magic. Some very odd folk had set up wards around the village to turn animals into humans, supposedly to maintain the balance. These adventurers had arrived and wiped out the original inhabitants of the village. They then set up an ambush for the leaders of the wild elves. All of this explained all too well why the elves and trees were attacking us - they were afraid we'd come out to finish the job.

Gnarlroot went on to explain (through Kitya's translation) that the ghostly rider was a paladin seeking vengeance against these evildoers running Ossington. For him to find peace with his god, he needed a proper burial in sanctified ground. So we followed Gnarlroot to fetch the paladin's body. I set aside a plot of ground and made it holy with Moradin's blessing. The paladin was grateful and wished us luck in dealing with the fools back in the village. His spirit then departed this realm.

We decided to head back into the village, but along the way, the most horrible thing happened. Thelonious' sense of doom turned out to be all too prophetic. He stiffened up and started laughing at us in a very odd voice. He said that our puny efforts would avail us nothing and that regardless of whether we made it out of Ossington alive, our fate was sealed. He then suddenly collapsed. Dead. Moradin! Why didn't you warn me! Why didn't you take me instead!