With the coming of winter's chill, our stalwart adventurers decided to split for a few months. Oleg had spent too long away from his forge. Triben sought a way back home. West still had not returned from his mysterious excursion. Gronk felt an obligation to steer the hobgoblins to cause the least wanton violence, no mean feat. The group resolved to meet in Irongate two months hence, on the 13th of Sunsebb.
Gronk surveyed the devastation. Though he had no words for Pyrrhic victory, he understood them quite well. The same scene had repeated several times during his time with the hobgoblins. Some of the Hobgoblin raids were focused, targeting only the Brotherhood occupiers. Many, though, did just as much damage to the common folk of Onnwal as to the Scarlet Brotherhood. It wasn't so much a discipline issue as trying to overcome habits bred over lifetimes. And now, with Gronk leaving for Irongate, he feared for the people. Nygraag, The Hobgoblin Chief, was a competent leader, and very skilled at arms. He saw the benefits of working with the resistance movement against the Brotherhood. But getting the common hobgoblin soldier and the common Onnwalese townsfolk to focus on the Brotherhood instead of centuries of ill-will was a nigh-impossible task on the best days. Perhaps, Gronk mused, we could return. Though not the ideal army, if the hobgoblins could be further focused, they could do significant harm to the Brotherhood.
Rakehell Chert, leader of the human resistance, had asked Gronk not to go. Gronk had spent several nights seriously considering staying, but, in the end, he owed most to Oleg and West, who had guided him from deep in the Brotherhood-controlled Menowood to the relative safety of Irongate. Sister Kuranyie and her Brotherhood lackeys would have to wait. The resistance was working hard, and it looked like some progress was being made. Hopefully they could integrate the hobgoblins without too much more difficulty. Gronk shook his head vigorously, dislodging the weighty concerns. For possibly the last time, he had a raiding party to reign in.
With a sigh of satisfaction, Oleg ran a hand lovingly over the flat of his new axe. This was the first morning his forge had been cold in six weeks. After a week of research and study, all his energies had been poured into hammer and forge, steel and adamantine. As he had promised Gronk an enchanted spiked chain, that had to come first. Learning to craft one properly had been an interesting diversion, but the actual construction was a tedious chore. The axe, though, had been a joy. Five weeks gently crafting and shaping the hardest metal known to dwarf. Every curve, every inch of etching and design had been meticulously forged to the finest detail, and all were beautifully precise. The balance was perfect, the blade honed razor-sharp. Then another week and a half were spent in the laboratory, funneling magical energies into the blade. Countless hours spent harnessing the storm, trapping its power and coaxing it into the axe.
Oleg whispered a word of power, and the storm raged. Arcs of electricity danced over the axe, casting a flickering blue light into the otherwise dark room. Truly, a master work. His master had agreed. Three blades remained before Oleg could claim his place as a master weaponsmith in his own right -- cold iron, alchemical silver, and mithral. There was no time, though. The very next morn would be the 13th of Sunsebb. Gronk would be back in Irongate. And though Triben had never left, he and Oleg hadn't seen each other much. The other blades would just have to wait.
Triben finished off the last line of the scroll with a small flourish. He writhed his hands, stretching and cracking all the knuckes in one quick burst. Just in time, as it turned out, for the last candle flickered one final time, then abandoned him to the darkness. "Damn," Triben muttered, and cast about groggily for the door. He found it after stumbling but once, only to bang his head solidly on the dwarf-scaled door frame. "Shar! Two months, and the whole plane is still out to get me."
Fortunately, the main stacks were well-illuminated and had a high ceiling. Triben went back for his scroll, then wandered out of the Mage's guild towards his inn. "Two months, two months of research, and I'm no closer to finding my way home. Leira take that devil, and the angel with it! Everything I've found suggests I'll need to be much more powerful to even contemplate searching myself. The folk I landed with seem reasonable enough. Maybe they can help me amass enough raw power..."
West playfully wrestled with the brown bear, alternately getting nuzzle and bowled over by its huge paws. Getting the huge beast to trust him had taken time, and training it to be a faithful companion had taken more time yet. Over two months, as fall blew its last few breaths, the bear learned to be a faithful companion. Of course, it was also ready for a long winters' nap. Gently, West nudged the bear's thoughts in that direction. After a final swat, it meandered towards its cave. Glancing back forlornly, it entered. The bear could not understand why West would not join it, and would not understand when West roused it early from a long winter's nap. Half a season's hibernation was bad for a bear, but better that than to keep his current companion roused the whole time.
Rising, West began his long walk back. After helping the local packlord save the Rieuwood from destruction, he'd returned to find the party had split, to meet back later. Suddenly finding himself with copious free time, West had returned to the Rieuwood in search of a new animal companion. Now it was time to find Bear, his previous companion, rouse him from his slumber, and return to Irongate. Hopefully the party would reform. More hands working against Brotherhood interests was always a good thing.
The end of fall brought no respite to the people of Irongate. Though our heros were quiescent, the dark forces of the Scarlet Brotherhood continued to tighten their grip on the city. Day by day, city patrols stayed just a bit closer to home. All of the outlying settlements fell, and fortified structures just a few days ride were now regularly suffering harrassing attacks. Several had fallen to concerted efforts by wild humanoids or Hepomanland savages under the Brotherhood's banner. The dwarves suffered these setbacks with stoic resolve. Almost to a dwarf they were confident that lost territories would be regained, the Brotherhood rebuffed. Members of the other races, though, were less confident. Some tried to flee for the relative safety of Sunndi, but most feared the immense danger of such a trek. Even adventurers discretely slipped out, never to return.
Inside the city walls, the situation also grew progressively worse. At first it was just the occasional fire, but they grew more common. Barracks, homes, shops .. all were targeted indiscriminately. More recently, fell beasts have been summoned inside the city walls. Spiders as big as a dwarf, poisonous vipers, even the occasional dire wolf, all with the dark taint of fiends upon them. These attacks, too, have appeared to be random, designed more to sow havoc than do real damage. The guard has been working overtime trying to keep such attacks in check, and manpower is starting to wear a little thin. So far, all attempts to isolate the responsible party or parties have failed.