Dom Drayk
Hag Rock Redoubt
Hag Rock Redoubt
"Right," Drayk said, after hearing Sinderion and Adrienne's input. "The tower it is. Not getting shot is always fine by me." With that, the shield-armed Sellsword led the way, the group close behind him. Drayk was no sneak-thief, but he understood the idea. Stay out of sight, move quickly, don't do anything loud and stupid. Simple, really. He was making some noise as he moved, mostly coming from slight adjustments in his armored arm, or his steel toed nordic boots hitting a stone in the road, but it wasn't as though he was shooting fireballs into the air and acting as a signal fire for the Forsworn.
They made quick time to the base of the tower, moving swiftly across open areas, well aware that the moonlight would probably give them away if any of the Forsworn chanced to watch for their approach. Drayk let out a held in breath when his hand touched the rough stone of the old guard tower. No sign of trouble yet. In fact, the door was actually slightly open already, and Drayk couldn't hear anything coming from inside. "Maybe it's Forsworn festival night, or something, and they're all passed out drunk at their camp. That would be nice." He was talking to himself more than anyone, but they would probably hear the comment all the same. Double checking that everyone was still behind him, he head-gestured towards the door. "In we go. Let's keep it quiet, yeah?" He then met Adrienne's eyes. "Stay close to me. I'll take their attacks and draw their attention, you wait for openings, when they make themselves vulnerable, and watch my back."
Drayk was well aware that Adrienne was the least experienced of them in matters of battle, and while Drayk was no old hand himself, he'd grown up with life or death situations, and the Mentor had taken him on a good deal of contracts, enough so that the mage had developed a good grasp of group tactics, and his own strengths and limitations. And, well... he was going to do his damnedest to make sure Adrienne made it through her first real fights in one piece.
Waiting no longer, Drayk gently pushed the wooden door open. He'd hoped it would go quietly, but no, it insisted on playing the song of its people for the world to hear. Fortunately, there wasn't anyone in the base of the tower to hear it. Shrugging, he took a few tentative steps inside. The Forsworn had obviously been living in here. They had redecorated the place thoroughly. Lots of horns, and antlers. They seemed to like those. A little fire burned in the hearth, though it looked like it hadn't been tended to in a while, and was on the brink of dying out. To Drayk, it looked like it was crying as it bled out. He paid it no mind.
Seeing that there was no one here, Drayk gestured towards the stairs that curved around the edge of the tower, spiraling upwards. Shield raised and at the ready, they moved up to the second level. It looked as though there had been something of a struggle here. Tipped over chairs and a smashed table. Drayk was starting to think his theory about drunken Forsworn may have actually been correct. There was no one here, either. The fire below attested to the fact that someone had been here recently, but for all he could see, this tower was completely unoccupied.
Expecting the third time to be the curse, Drayk led the way up to the third floor, but it was the same. A lone torch burned in its holster on the wall, the others out cold, and the few pieces of furniture scattered about like the second floor. The entire tower was empty. Drayk shrugged, before whispering to the group. "Either we're getting really lucky, or something's not right. Let's scout the bridge." He moved slowly to the door that would lead to the bridge. It had seemed precariously narrow from a distance, and for Drayk it was the biggest downside of choosing this route, but things had gone well so far, hadn't they? He placed his right hand tentatively on the door handle, and pulled it slowly open.
The door wasn't halfway open before a two-pronged arrow thudded solidly into his chest, burying itself just under his right collarbone. He yelped and stumbled backwards from the force, the door swinging wide open. He just barely had the sense to throw his shield in front of him, and immediately felt two more thuds as a pair of arrows stuck themselves into Heartwood. From outside, on the other side of the bridge, where the main Forsworn camp was located, came a rather sudden chorus of whooping and shouting. Drayk peeked long enough to see at least twenty of them, brandishing weapons and waiting on the far side of the bridge, with the warrior in the center catching Drayk's eye. A Briarheart, brandishing a war axe in one hand, his other hand glimmering with ice and preparing a spell, a great headdress and set of antlers adorning his head.
Drayk slammed the door back shut, turning around to brace it. "By the... I said not getting shot!" he yelled in frustration, grimacing at the arrow for a mere moment before yanking it out. His right hand exploded for a moment with a white light as his healing aura enveloped him and mended the wound. "The hornheads knew we were coming! It's a damn ambush." Drayk imagined it was good they had chosen the tower, as all those archers would have riddled them with arrows had they taken the other path.
There was a loud bang from below, the sound of a foot kicking a door. Drayk braced a table against the door before going to look. There were a dozen or more Forsworn charging up the stairs to meet them, bone axes and spiked blades in hand. And there was a call that was rather... inhuman, from beyond the bridge. A hagraven, a matriarch to the Forsworn. Well, this had gotten real ugly real fast.
"Incoming from below," Drayk called, readying his shield.