These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.
The next night we arrive at the end of the rock walls. Before us is a wide fissure with spots of torchlight breaking the darkness below, revealing smaller openings within the stone. Just at the end of the lights there are signs of a flowing river. A bridge connects to the other side to the walled compound of The Bringers of Woe.
To the sides of the gate two torches reveal the appearance of multiple guards, one outside and possibly two or more within. Inside the walls are guard towers which surely hold more soldiers with bows or worse. Taking in the area I believe one of the small fissures below is our best route inside, the torchlight from one reveals a quake cracked the lower levels of the compound. Before I can suggest a plan of action Lithia Muun and Randal Dundragon are making there way to the entrance, giving away our position.
Balasar looks dumbfounded at their choice, Henry wants to shout a warning. I cannot blame either of them, those two are marching right up to the enemy. I scramble to catch up to them just as the guard draws his weapon, shouting an order to halt and name our business. The two guards within notch arrows to provide aid if trouble presents itself.
Lithia fumbles with a lie, I try to support her with revealing my brand that marks me as a member of The Restless Hand. If it did sound reasonable we would never know, Dundragon announcing himself as a cleric of Pelor, proving our true intentions.
The outside guard quickly closes the gap between us with his longsword, scoring a cut on Muun’s left arm. Arrows launch from within the gate, one imbeds itself in her leg while the other glances off the priest’s armor. As Randal steps up to defend our spellcaster I arch around them to engage the bowmen. My cutlass easily pierces the armor as I run one of them through. A flash of flame behind me assures me Lithia is fine. With our presence known I wait for the towers to rain arrows upon us.
I am struck from behind from the remaining guard. My anger flares. Dundragon closes ranks to aid me. With all my strength I pull my blade free, quickly spinning with it and taking off his head. As doing so, I instinctively brace myself for arrows to fly.
Balasar running across the bridge does not even draw a single shot. Something is wrong. A hastily search of the courtyard reveals no enemies though there are bows and quivers by all the tower windows. Even the portcullis that blocks the entrance inside the compound is unmanned.
With no one complaining about our good fortune I attempt to pick the lock which shows that I obviously need some practice. With Balasar beside me I draw the only lockpick you need with dragonborn of his size, a crowbar. With Randal aiding us we raise the heavy bars.
As we do so Lithia does what she does best, cheers us on and benefits from the work.