Something to show
Its funny how war changes people. Old enemies become trusted allies, right and wrong are no longer definitive tools of measurement, and hope becomes a powerful motivation, almost blindingly so.
The party decides to confide in Casey to garner favour with this leader of rabble. They show him the map of Collosia newly procured and blood soaked. A vision of which tantalizes Aranel's fangs at the smell of blood on parchment. Dex decides to tell Casey of the giant task at hand, that a hint of a hint of a cure is leading them towards an unknown destination deep within the Burning Plains. This peaks Casey's interest, he and his spies saw the party fighting other blight, just hours ago. Could it be true, a cure? After 51 years of war, nay survival how could you blame a man for grasping tenaciously at any hint of a solution. Whether from a devil, or the mouth of a half elven saviour, it doesn't matter to the beast known as desperation. “Come with me” he says, “i have something i want you to see”. And so they head for New Haven, the daylight giving Casey and his band some assurance that these cursed even if they go back on their word of “no harm” they wouldn't be much of a problem.
Arriving in town the party notices goblins, many goblins walking, talking, selling and generally living among the humans. Casey explains how war makes strange bedfellows, and that the goblins earn their keep with resourcefulness and instinct. The homes of New haven, if you could call them that are are make shift tents raised into the trees by rigging that looks like it belongs on a ship, not on a camping trip. Collars of silver line the trunks of trees and everyone gets the sense that this town could disassemble and relocate in a matter of minutes if push came to shove.
Casey leads the party to his tree grouping and lowers a crate down with a quick knot slide and pulley tug. Opening the crate, he announces, “this is what i brought you hear to see”. Inside is a mass, of blight creep, contently writhing within, slowed and nonthreatening. Casey explains, “this was my son” as his head hangs in self expressed failure. “after months of being confined to this crate without food he lapsed into this cocoon for a sort of hibernation we believe” he continues. “So as you can imagine, i have a vested interest in a cure for this curse, and if there is anything I can do to help you speed you on your way to finding it, then name it now”. “I only ask that you share the answers should you find them”. To this the party can hardly say no, a man who is obviously torn by his responsibility to the people of this makeshift refugee town, and his want to come with them and find the answers first hand.
The party is given what provisions they request. A shield for Dex, some goblin made goggles for Varaxis that allows him to see as the blighted do in blight fog. Also they are gifted a small messenger Drakin named Iro, to help them contact New haven again should they move on. Finally Casey offers food, bringing about a goat to help the blight cursed party feed. Seig is unable to contain himself again ripping out the heart of the poor beast as the rest take their piece of the pie.
Casey warns the party that they should stay out of site of the Elves should they fly overhead with their large Drakin powered air skiffs, on a patrol. As they bid farewell and gods speed Casey has his men see the party to a cave for respite from the noon day's sun.
Back through the tunnel
After a short rest they decide to head back out of Old Tellion through the tunnel they came in. Cautiously the party heads back through the tunnel and Aranel notices that the creep from the other side has spread into the tunnel and is inching its way towards New Haven. Heading back through the entrance of the tunnel the party spies blight thralls wandering aimlessly around the area. A small blight bringer is spreading creep and it is recognized that the blight thralls were those that the party smote just hours earlier. Up and fully regenerated and roaming. Varaxis' presence is not noticed and the party is allowed to simply walk through and away from the mingling thralls.
Don't trust those whose feet are not bound to the soil
After some time travelling towards the maps directions the party sees something heading in their direction in the sky. Hiding(and not well in some cases) the party peaks out to see an elvish air skiff flying over head and spotting their curious bodies hardly hidden, turn their skiff sharply and begin their decent. This skiff's rune covered hull pulses and glows as it decends rapidly on the parties position. All at once 3 elves nimbly leap forward unhinging the 2 Drakin that propell the skiff from their harness' and a forth uses arcane word weavings to set the craft down. The Drakin fly straight for Seig and Jaspyr as Dex and Aranel try to reason with these Elvish zealots. They would rather burn for eternity with no sons or daughters than speak with these blighted pigs as they curse and spit in their guttural elvish tongue known far too well to Aranel.
Seig and Jaspyr are grappled by the too Drakin and flown into the air. Jaspyr defly stabs the Drakin wounding it horribly as it lets him loose to fall. Jaspyr uses his blight enhanced leaping ability to land gracefully and deftly. Seig is not so lucky as he squirms free of his captors grasp and plummets fast slamming into the ground. Seig lifts himself up as the days “work” has just begun. As the Elves volley arrows into our heroes Dex and Aranel rush for the Elves. Varaxis lets out an infernal blast, engulfing 2 of the Elves in green fire. But Varaxis is not the only one on the battlefield with magic “tricks”. The Elven Mage utters some words in the arcane tongue, drawing his hands together and touching his finger tips to one another. As he arcs them back around, the crackle of lighting dances from finger to finger ultimately being directed out towards Aranel. Aranel dodges the lightning blast but it changes directions and catches Dex off guard. Jaspyr and Seig go toe to toe with these flying lizards getting blow after blow and receiving bit and claw. A defening boom of thunder erupts from the Elven Mage, and Dex and Aranel are knocked and dazed from the intense sound. Varaxis roasts one of the Elven Hunters and Aranel and Dex drop another. Jaspyr drops his sword and draws his Glaive thrusting it deep into the mortally wounded Drakin. Blood and guts spill out as he summons the strength to lift the beast over his head as it slides down the pointy end of his weapon. Dex stabs the remaining Elven Hunter as Aranel leaps in ripping the Elves throat out with the ferocity and jagged horror of one and a half fang-tusks.
The Elven Mage runs, but where does he think he can go from here with his Drakin's dead, his protectors bleeding and burning on the ground, and the Halfelf pig running straight for him. Its not long before Dex catches, grapples and questions him. He reveals nothing and spits in Dex's face, gaining a sense of satisfaction in the face of his judges. Aranel is fed up with the questioning going no-where and goes in for a feeding as Dex forcefully stops him. One more dead end response and Dex beats this man to uncontiousness.