Turn 133

Within the vestibule sits a pair of iron wolf statues, one on each side, facing each other. Odd place for such a decoration, surely...
    The Zakharan allows himself a thin smile of satisfaction: Now he knows a secret back way into the fortress, *and* where the Hextorians are probably keeping an evil device like the one back in [wherever], all without having to search the place from top to bottom. A good evening's work in itself.
    He lets the secret door quietly close again and returns to the tower stairs. At the door where he heard voices before, he pauses to listen to them.
    He hears a low, intermittent susurration of conversation behind footsteps. Several men moving in a steady pattern, and others still. There is no keyhole or other aperture to peek through, so he continues on to take a closer look at the material being stored in the tower's lower levels -- grain sacks, leather, timber; all of the basic provisions required for equipping an army. Lacking any means to set a fire, he goes back outside, climbs back up the wall to see what's going on in the upper floors; there is an extremely vigorous search going on. He climbs back down, moves along the wall to where he left Michal, and the two set off again to continue their investigations,
    Peering around the corner of the tower toward the forge and barracks, he sees that the hornet's nest appears to have been well and truly kicked. Men are arming, horses are being readied, and generally there is a lot of controlled panicking going on; someone has messed up and everyone hopes it's not them. There is a perception that they are or soon will be under *some* kind of attack. It sounds like a mounted force is being readied to go out to some location -- probably the test site -- and others will be carrying on a concerted search of the town and vicinity, of the "heads will roll if you don't find *something*" sort.
    There is still activity going on around the forge; it appears to be operational, and there are guards on all of the doors. The building does have windows, too high up in the wall for casual observers to see within. Climbing up the rough stone, ibn Fadil can see two distinct areas of effort. In one section, men are working at producing the weapons to be carried by the army Durrell clearly intends to let loose. In another, quieter part of the forge, a few men are tinkering with some sort of casting mold.
    * * *
    More ropes are dropped over the side; a few minutes later crew and loot are safely aboard the ship.
    "Don't think you're getting away now," Lynden shouts angrily as he grabs hold of the ladder still hanging over the side, "I want words with you!" Not usually given to emotional outbursts his anger sustains him as he descends the ladder at top speed. "Seeing how you seem to like metal so much I'm betting you're carrying at least some of it yourself." Lynden mutters pausing to cast once more {Heat Metal} before continuing his pursuit of the retreating priest, but it seems to have no effect. [made his save]
    The artificer-priest nevertheless turns and pelts toward the shelter of the forest, only to find himself tangled in some sort of thorny creeper that twines amid the trees.
    Meanwhile, Emmett and Yestin methodically lob burning oil flasks toward the powder store. It's well alight by now, and only a matter of time. Across the river, the workers are taking advantage of the attackers' distance to try to put out the fire in their dwelling, but even if they were foolish enough to get near the burning storage area, it's too late.
    The priest continues to struggle, attempting to free himself from the clutches of the wood, only to sprout another couple of arrow shafts. He is clearly in dire straits.
    With that job well concluded, Emmett leans over the other rail to see what's happening, takes up a javelin and weighs it thoughtfully.
    [And maxes his damage roll.] The priest falls at last, unconscious and likely dying.
    A minute or so later a truly spectactular explosion lights up half the valley
    

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