Fantatic Waltz

[Brian]

"It's complex, from what I've seen of it," Mirallia opines, looking up at the sky.  "The stars are coming out."

Breke grunts, obviously not interested, and crosses his arms over his chest.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn does not say anything, but merely stares out over the plains, studying what he can see of the movement of the Dreadmarch.

[Brian]

Looks like they're setting up camp, for the most part.  None of them are coming within bow-shot, at any rate.  In the distance, you can see the moon rising, peeking up over the horizon, and shedding light across the army below.

"When the moon sets," Mirallia warns, "the battle begins."

[Bjorn]

"Then we have time," Bjorn says, quietly, "but not too much."  He grimaces.  "I don't like this," he admits, quietly.

[Brian]

Parthipan's spellcasting takes some time, but eventually he pronounces it ready, and then looks blank, like he's not even in his body for a minute or two.

Parthipan: You're not riding the winds very far this time, so you've got a little more time.  You fly out to the wall, then across the ground before the keep.  The moon has just risen (which explains why your astronomy details were no good -- you forgot about the moon) and illuminates the structures that Radagast left behind.  Every twenty meters or so, there's a large pole stuck in the ground.

You don't really have time to investigate them, though, and can probably ask Radagast later.  Either way, you can make out the Dreadmarch from here, and the majority of the creatures within it resemble the ones you found in the room you woke up in.  They're sitting around cookfires, setting up tents, and analzying whatever weapon fragments they happen to be carrying -- there's quite an assortment, too.

Looking for someone who stands out from the crowd, you eventually spy the man in the dirty-snow colored cloak, now standing out against the dark-skinned orc surrounding him.  He's speaking with a particularly large creature -- maybe a troll?  Hard to say, but it's pretty big, and looks up as you draw near.

You freeze, and he looks around, like he's sure he caught something ... but you're still, and he shakes his head, turning his attention to the creature.  "So be ready for the first day," he says.

The creature just nods, saluting the man crudely, and then your time is up, and you return to your body atop the tower.

[Ginrai]

"Damn....  Okay, it'll take me a few minutes to try and recall everything I just saw."

Ginrai wonders if he was able to notice just where the Dreadmarch general was.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn feigns a cough, keeping his eyes from meeting anyone else's.

[Brian]

Ginrai: You're positive he was within the Dreadmarch army.  As far as where he was specifically in that mess, you'd guess towards the back square miles of their camp, but he's moving, so it probably wouldn't make a lot of difference.

Bjorn: The costs of the spell seem to have taken their toll on Parthipan; he's pale, and wobbling slightly in place, like he might fall down shortly.

Breke leans towards Bjorn and whispers, "You sure he's not dead?"

[Bjorn]

"Not really," Bjorn grumbles, and reaches out to take Parthipan's shoulder to steady him.

[Ginrai]

"Thanks, Bjorn... anyway, it was the same guy from before.  The one in the snow-colored cloak that was talking with the Storm-rider.  At this point I'm more than sure he's one of the generals.  He seemed to be talking with with some huge troll... at least, I think that was a troll.  That's all I was able to get."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn frowns.  "This man... he was a man, right?  A human?  How many other humans did you see in the army of the Dreadmarch?"

[Ginrai]

"He seemed to be the only one."

[Bjorn]

"Could you hear what he was saying to the... troll, or whatever?"

[Ginrai]

"Only the end of the conversation.  Something about being ready for the first day."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn hums thoughtfully.  "I'm willing to bet that the troll was the first general," he says, slowly.  "The man... he may or may not be a general, but he's certainly the commander, if you see what I mean."  

He smiles, coldly.  "The first we kill to win tonight's battle.  The man we have to kill to win the war."