Journey To the Obsidian Keep

After several attacks against our kingdom from kobalds and goblins, we have been given permission to hunt down these monsters to an area known as the Obsidian Keep. Our group is not military, aside from myself, Perry Honeybrew a scout that has been conscripted into the kings army, and Janos Larstina who is a dragoon, we also have Vulcan who seems to be one of the many bastards of the local king and a weird person whom may be a druid covered in dirt and moss. We named them Mossy. As we are making our way up the winding and blasted paths towards the Obsidian Keep we encountered an Orc in the distance during the night.
 
Perry, for whatever reason wanted to use diplomacy with the orcs who are clearly preventing our approach to the Obsidian Keep. Not confident in my halfling friend's approach, I've elected to load my crossbow and prepare a volley. Janos has a very difficult time maintaining conciousness throughout a fight... he has a weak constitution, but certainly knows his way around a halberd. Noticing he was about to rush in to combat on his own I was able to hold him back, "maybe let them come to you this time," I said. Steadying himself by the rocks, Perry lets a perfect shot slice through the air and through the forehead of one of the Orcs. Battle cries are rung out and soon we are assailed by monsters from up the path. Magic wells around Vulcan as the ringing of his spells fill the heads of the charging monsters forcing them to hemorrhage and cause them pause as they advance. I let loose a bolt from my crossbow and strike a kobald in the side; there is an atmosphere of unease in our foes as they close quarters with us.
 
Our tactics are becoming far more sound and synergized with one another's key set of skills. Mossy strangles several of our assailants with magical thorn laden whips. Amongst the battle I barely noticed that Vulcan was fighting beside me and suddenly he cast a spell; it was odd though. I'm used to magic but the cadence in his voice and the swirly energies did not feel like it was gifted by a divine source. Arcane magic is forbidden in the kingdoms. It's the heat of battle and not the time to raise such questions on how he may know how to cast magic beyond the sight of our divine patrons. Magic pours from our group into our foes and I focus on the feral monsters assailing us.
 
Janos and I brace ourselves against waves of kobalds and orcs and mounting a defense is saving our hides for now. I pick my moments to wail at these beasts with the full weight of my warhammer; shattering bone, tearing muscle and spitting dark blood as I pull through. The battle swells and Janos is taken down from several spears and crude blades. Careful in my advance I block the kobalds from being able to strike our friend while he's down and buffet the blows of several monsters. It is a slog as a relentless mass of kobalds push against us but our companions rally. Mossy cures me of my wounds and Vulcan administers a potion to Janos. Tumulus has blessed us this day as feeling the support of my companions I let out a warcry and strike down two kobalds at my front and push the third back with my shield. Unfortunately our fight does not wind down just yet as a massive creature descends the rocks ahead of us, incanting foul magics. Necromancy.
 
Suddenly we hear shouting from behind us in dwarven, common and elven; they are telling us to fall back. As the dead rise back up once more I tell everyone to fall back as I stall for time, holding my holy symbol aloft and calling to my god for divine intervention. A pulse of light fills the path, pausing the undead's reanimation, and with that we are able to make our escape.
 
We hustle for a while with a group of dwarves that had called out to us on the path, they look to have been living in the wild for some time. These dwarves look on edge. It's been a while since I have openly spoken dwarven to anyone but my own children for a while now; honestly it feels weird slipping back into my native tongue. The Obsidian Keep is a topic of great peril for these dwarves, they believe the keep is cursed, built by a sir Keegan Stormhamer and a dragoon of the same order as Jonas. This keep was formerly "Stormhammer Keep" and it was to stop a particular daemon and the shadow that follows. A curse befelled the dwarves that built the keep and were stationed there, drove them mad and corrupted the garrison into killing each other. Although this assault will be harrowing, we cannot let this dwarven superstition stop us from rescuing innocent lives and fellow soldiers. Our party rests with the group to regain our strength to push through. The night is daunting as we keep one eye and ear open for danger through the night for monsters, but also our company. These dwarves, although aiding us, seem to not put me at ease and I keep thinking about that spell Vulcan performed in the heat of battle.
 
As dawn breaks we pick up camp and hustle towards the Obsidian Keep. I'm now staring into the pit, the darkening hole at which this stout bridge descends into; our entrance to Stormhammer's Keep. Irontusk, as we discovered his name to be, met us at the opposite end of the bridge. As some of us were discussing using diplomacy against the half-orc, Janos decides to issue him a challenge to fight. Whirling and hurling a spear, Irontusk throws a spear, clearing the bridge, and striking Janos in the shoulder. Needless to say, negotiations were short.