Hatching a Plan

Using the mysterious black-glass lenses hidden beneath his helmet, Fortu gazes around at everyone puffing and panting after their recent exertion. They stand victorious after the frantic, confusing battle with the terrifyingly dangerous, mechanical bat/gnat creatures, but there were several injuries. Reassuringly though, the life auras glowing around his friends and colleagues still burn brightly. Only his Elven companion; Arowe’s seems slightly dimmed.

The pacifistic Bard; Rifkin also stops playing now the immediate danger has passed and instead, rushes over to the injured Arowe, so he can attend to his, disturbingly still bubbling, wound.

The Elven archer tightly grips his neck to help staunch the flow of blood from the strange sucking injury, while Rifkin uses the last of his healing spells. It was fortunate that the bat/gnat machines were such poor flyers. Shuddering involuntarily, Arowe realises how much worse it could have been if they had been even slightly otherwise!

Meanwhile, rummaging through the buckled metal and broken glass, Henshaw pulls a thick and strangely weathered leather collar, with an old bronze tag from the metal hounds headless neck.

“I spotted this earlier. The tag says ‘Belvedere’ on it. That’s the same name of the big bloodhound in one of the grand paintings downstairs.”

Fortu takes the sturdy strap from Henshaw’s outstretched hand. What could it mean? Was it somehow, just another petty act of revenge from Lord Urdurel? What, he wonders, happened to the original flesh-and-blood Belvedere? 

While the others are dealing with what just happened, the pragmatic Halfling; Liga Bur is already three-fifths through thinking up a plan of action. He has no interest in facing thousands of rats again and considers what tools, other than their swords and bows, they have that can be used to their advantage. The stone tower has tapered to the point where the chamber is relatively small. The only remaining ways forward are through the two sturdy wooden doors, behind both of which are the magically commanded rat hordes. 

What they do have, is oil to spare and a fire elemental completely unafraid of the rats and immune to their bites.

The only issues would be, them not being caught in the flames and where will the smoke and fumes vent to? Looking up, Liga Bur sees the hatch and wonders if there's still yet another way out?

Quickly organising the three rescued guards into an impromptu Human pyramid, the agile Halfling warrior, being the obvious choice, clambers up and into the, now undefended 'attic' space. Once securely inside, he braces his strong feet against the hatch frame and reaches down to help the surprisingly nimble Barbella climb up after him.

Inside the octagonal spire, there are a series of evenly spaced beams, that makes ascending to the top relatively easy. It’s near the peak that Liga Bur finds another intricate Gnomish mechanism. Calling Barbella up after him, they work out between them, how to crank it open and the apex of the spire spreads wide like an eight-sided beak. 

It’s only then, when Liga Bur hears the rush of wind buffeting the, now exposed tower tip, that he realises that the bat/gnat creatures, that were obviously too heavy for proper inside flight, were really intended for aerial combat outside of the tower, Their normally too-heavy frames, actually designed to be partially supported by the constant and powerful magical updraft, whilst still heavy enough not to be completely blown away.

Looking around at the (just-about) adequate space for all eight of them to shelter away from the flames, the canny Halfling smiles at his Human climbing partner. With the top of the tower opened up, that’s the smoke venting problem solved as well!